Freestyle (Academy of Stardom Book 1)
Freestyle: Chapter 7

“Not so fast, Tiny,” Xeno says, grabbing hold of my hoodie and yanking me backwards so my arms cartwheel in the air. I have to shuffle my feet quickly in order to stop myself falling onto my arse.

“Hey, dickhead, you could’ve choked me to death!” I shout, twirling on my feet and punching him on the arm. “I’m done with your crap today.” He’s been snarky all morning and I’m over it. He lets me go and laughs.

“Don’t be such a girl!” he accuses, enraging me further. Of all the Breakers, Xeno is the one who pushes my buttons the most. He’s always challenging me one way or the other, but today I’m not in the mood for his games.

“Go fuck off and die, Xeno.” I sidestep him, ducking beneath his arm when he holds it out to stop me.

“Woah, Tiny, you on your period?”

Low blow, arsehole. I’d been waiting for my period to start for ages, then last month it had, and what a shit show that was. I had to rely on Zayn to get me some sanitary towels because I came on here in the damn basement. Sod’s law. I was mortified, but at the time all the guys were really cool about it. Zayn even bought me chocolate. Now, Xeno has switched and seems intent on rubbing my face in being a woman, which is like a red rag to a bull with me. Narrowing my eyes, I turn to face him, folding my arms across my chest.

“You know I’d like to meet your mum,” I say.

“Yeah, why’s that?” He smirks and folds his arms across his chest, jerking his chin. I see the flash of challenge in his eyes. Yeah, that’s right, motherfucker. I might be tiny, but I’m not a pushover.

“Because I’d ask her whether she still likes Mother Nature despite what it did to you.”

“Burrrnnnnnnnnnn!” York holds his closed fist up to his mouth and starts laughing. Dax smiles and Zayn chuckles, watching us both. They know what’s coming next. This verbal sparring is becoming a regular occurrence between me and Xeno. Since we became friends almost a year ago, Xeno has spent a great deal of time trying to get me to fall in line. I won’t. No one’s the boss of me. Besides, despite appearances, I quite like the verbal sparring. It’s fun.

Xeno smiles evilly. He holds his hands up as though he’s shading his eyes then makes a show of looking for something. Eventually, he lowers his head and stares directly at me. I puff out my chest and straighten my spine, but I still only reach his chest. He’s as tall as I am short. Arsehole. I know what’s coming.

“I promise not to make fun of your height, I would never stoop to that. Might put my back out.”

Zayn, Dax, and York all chuckle. Out of the corner of my eye I can see them talking under their breaths. When we get going like this they make bets as to which one of us is going to win. The winner is always the one with the best cuss. If I can make Xeno belly laugh before he can do the same to me, then I win. Today, I’m winning.

I bark out a laugh and make a point of running my gaze up from Xeno’s feet over his low-slung denim jeans and white t-shirt, all the way to the top of his very curly-haired head. “I’m glad you’re tall, it gives me more of you to dislike.”

Xeno’s eyes spark with mirth, but his mouth is a hard line. I know he’s holding back a laugh. “I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup and shit out a better line than that.”

The Breakers lose it and start rolling around the floor holding their stomachs. Arseholes.

Xeno smirks, thinking he’s won this battle. Stepping closer, he uses his height and size to try and intimidate me. He should know by now that there’s nothing about him, or any of the Breakers that intimidate me. I like them all way too much. Right now I’m desperately holding onto a laugh.

“Ha! Nice one, Xeno, but do you know what?”

“What?”

“You should save your breath because you’ll need it to blow up your girlfriend later.”

“Whaaaaaaaa!” Zayn calls out, thumping Dax hard on the back because he seems to have turned blue from laughing so hard and not getting enough oxygen. York has tears rolling down his face. I look back at Xeno with a straight face, whilst his lip twitches and his eyes flash with amusement. His shoulders start to bounce and a moment later laughter bursts free from his lips. Pretty soon he’s doubled over.

“Take that, arsewipe!” I grin.

“Tiny, you fucking kill me. You know that, right?”

“I make it my life’s work to keep your ego a decent size.”

“Come on. Let’s get back to it,” he says, before wrapping his arm around my shoulder and rubbing his knuckles over the top of my head, successfully messing my hair up.

“Lay off,” I grouse, pushing at his hand, but not pulling away from his hold. I feel safe there.

Strange, but true.

If I’m being honest, I feel safe with all my Breakers. Some days I worry about how much I’ve come to rely on them in such a short time. The only other person in this world I care about just as much as them is Lena, but she’s too young to understand me like they do. Plus, I need to shield her as much as possible from the shit that goes on in my life, so it’s not as if I can confide in her like that. She’s too little. With his arm still slung around my shoulder, Xeno motions for the guys to get up.

“Right dickheads, you need to move your lazy arses because we’ve got a routine to finish.”

“Ah, man, I was having fun watching you two. Best laugh I’ve had all week…” Dax’s voice trails off and we all know that his homelife has been rough lately. The darkening bruise on his chin tells us as much even though he hasn’t said a thing. His dad is as much of a bully as my mum.

Giving Xeno a gentle nudge, I duck out of his hold and move towards Dax. “Come on, Dax, let’s dance those arseholes out of our system,” I say.

We lock gazes, understanding passing between us. “Alright, kid, anything for you,” he says.

I roll my eyes at his nickname for me. Dax is exactly six months and two days older than me, but apparently that’s enough of an age gap for him to be able to call me a kid. Maybe I should start calling him Daddy… Okay, no, that would be weird.

Half an hour later after repeating the same set of steps over and over again to It’s Like That by Run DMC we all flop onto the sofa’s panting and sweating.

“I think we got it down,” Zayn comments, a pleased look on his face. He should be pleased, it’s pretty much all his choreography. The guy’s a genius.

“I agree. Good job. We could probably win the battle at Rocks Friday night,” Dax says, casually.

“That’s a nightclub for the over eighteen,” I point out.

“Yep, an illegal nightclub run by my uncle that doesn’t give a shit about underage kids so long as they can fucking dance. We’re tight, we could win,” Zayn points out.

Xeno frowns, looking between us before his gaze lands on me. “No. Not yet.”

“But…” Zayn interrupts.

“I said not yet.”

And just like that the conversation ends.

York, sensing the tension, does his mother hen thing and grabs us all a drink from the mini fridge that Zayn took from a skip a week ago. One of the posh knobs down the street is getting their house refurbished and was throwing away all sorts of good shit. Jeb had taken most of it, but Zayn managed to nab the fridge before anyone else could.

“Here we go, ladies,” York grins, chucking us a can of Cola each and successfully curbing the argument between Xeno and Zayn.

Of the group, York is the most light-hearted, and thoughtful. The dude would make someone a great wife. Also, I’m fairly sure he’s Mother Theresa reincarnated. I chuckle to myself at the thought of him wearing a nun’s habit.

“What’s tickled your pickle, Titch?” he asks, flopping down on the sofa next to me. He throws his arm around the back of the seat and I get a whiff of his aftershave and the musky smell of sweat that should be gross but isn’t. I have to stop myself from wrapping my arm around his waist and breathing in deep. The guys are always flinging their arms around me in a friendly, best friend kind of way and whilst I’m cool with that, I’m not so great at returning the favour physically.

“You, York, you tickle my pickle. I like it,” I respond instead.

Zayn flashes me a look at the exact same time as Cola fires out of his nostrils. What the actual fuck? I start giggling uncontrollably as he wipes at his face. He’s such a plum. Dax slams him on the back and Xeno watches us all with amusement from the armchair opposite. But when I look at York, his face is a bright red, and he looks more like a tomato than Edward-sparkling-Cullen.

“What did I say?” I ask, genuinely miffed.

York is always coming up with random sayings. I was just doing what I always do and taking part in the fun. York shakes his head and grins, the colour fading from his cheeks.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. You’re just funny, that’s all.”

But I’m not to be put off. I want to know what all the looks are for. Even Dax seems to have sunk lower into the sofa and has pulled up his hoodie to hide the expression on his face. Even though he’s not making a sound, I know he’s laughing. His shoulders are moving up and down with mirth.

“What?!” I repeat.

Xeno opens his mouth then slams it shut again when York gives him the stink-eye. It’s Zayn that finally caves. He’s the one who always caves first. The guy can’t keep anything from me. I like his honesty and I like the fact he trusts me enough with it.

“Your clit, Titch. When York refers to ‘your pickle’, he’s talking about your clit.”

Beside me York groans. “It’s just a phrase, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“My clit? What the fuck are you all going on about?” I ask, genuinely confused. What’s a damn clit?

“Oh, fuck no! I’m out of this one,” Xeno exclaims, getting up and striding over to the bathroom. He slams the door and I jump.

“Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?”

Dax makes a kind of whooshing noise with his mouth, and sinks further down into the sofa like he wants it to swallow him up. Beside me, York is once again bright red.

“Sorry man, I gotta go. Shit to do,” York blurts out, rushing to his feet. Dax grunts, gives me a wave and mumbles under his breath something about helping York with the shit he’s got to do, leaving right behind him.

“Motherfuckers,” Zayn exclaims, swiping a hand through his hair.

I look at Zayn helplessly. “What did I say now?” I’m baffled.

Zayn puffs out his cheeks and looks up at me from beneath the flop of black hair. His night-time eyes sparkling with something I don’t understand. His cheeks flush pink a little, and he kind of winces.

“Zayn, I swear to God, if you don’t tell me what the big bloody deal is, I’m going to lose it.”

“Okay, okay,” he says, lifting off the couch he’s sitting on and plonking himself down next to me.

“So, erm, you’re seriously telling me you don’t know what a clit is?” He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head, and I immediately feel defensive.

“No, I don’t. I’m not a know-it-all like you. Just spit it out!”

“You do know how babies are made, right?” He asks me slowly, like I’m dense.

“Of course I do. I’m not a complete fucking idiot…”

“Thank fuck. I’m not doing that talk as well.”

“That talk… Wait, where’s this going?” I suddenly realise that perhaps this isn’t a conversation I should be having with Zayn, but curiosity has got the better of me now, and for better or worse I need to know what they’re going on about. It’s not as if I can talk to my mum or Lena about anything like this.

“You do have Biology lessons at school, right? And Sex Ed?”

“Well, yes, but Biology doesn’t really cover much more than cells and things like that. In Sex Ed I kind of switch-off.”

“Then from now on perhaps you should pay a bit more attention…”

“The clit, Zayn. Just tell me what the fuck it is so Xeno can come out of the bathroom and the guys can finish the ‘shit they got to do’ and come back,” I say, rolling my eyes.

Zayn squares me a look then grits his jaw. “You know guys have dicks…”

“Yes, I’m aware guys have dicks, Zayn.” For fuck’s sake.

“Well, girls have a pussy,” he coughs, then chokes a little, then shakes his head. “I mean they have a vagina.”

We both stare at each other for far too long. This isn’t good. Why in all that is fucking holy did I pursue this? “Yep,” I squeak, trying not to die a little.

“So, when York was referring to your ‘pickle’ it was his roundabout way of describing the clit…”

“I’m not sure I want to hear this…” My voice trails off when Zayn continues, determined to fucking embarrass me.

“And the clit is a part of the female genitalia. It sits at the top of your va-jay-jay, where the, erm, lips meet…”

Female genitalia? V-jay-jay?

He catches my gaze and I look down, wanting to be invisible right about now. I want to stick my fingers in my ears and say ‘la, la, la,’ like a five-year-old, but I can’t seem to do anything other than sit glued to the sofa. It’s horrifying. Zayn takes that as a cue to keep bloody talking.

I want to die.

“The clit is the Holy fucking Grail and is extremely sensitive. It gives pleasure to a woman when someone touches it. Wait,” he muses, “That’s not strictly true, the G-spot is actually the Holy Grail.”

G-Spot? Holy Grail? Oh my God, kill me now! “York wants to touch my clit?” I screech, wishing I’d just shut the hell up. Now I’m the one flushing a deep crimson. I feel heat spread out beneath my skin. Through the closed bathroom door, I can hear Xeno cursing loudly.

“No! No, it’s just a saying… and actually, it was you who said that he ‘tickles your pickle’ and that you ‘like it’, remember…”

“Oh fuck, no! He doesn’t, I swear it. I would never. I don’t even…” I don’t even know where the clit is. I mean I know now that it’s a part of my lady bits thanks to Zayn, but I’ve never explored down there. Like EVER. What’s grossing me out even more is that it’s been described as a goddamn pickle. I mean, even the small ones are like a mini penis. That can’t be right, can it? I do not have a dick. I almost put my hand over my crotch to check. Almost.

“We know that. It’s just a saying.” He chuckles, giving me a playful shove. Urgh, this is not the conversation I wanted to have with anyone, let alone Zayn. I’ve never wanted the floor to open up and swallow me more than I do right this second. They all must think I’m a complete loser not knowing about this shit. Oh god. This is embarrassing.

“So that’s about it. Any more questions?” Zayn asks.

“Hell no!” I stand, ready to bolt. Honestly though, as much as this is cringeworthy, I actually do have more questions.

So. Many. Questions.

But I don’t ask them. I keep my mouth fucking shut.

“Well, if you ever need to know more, you know where to come.”

“Yup.” Like that is never ever going to happen.

“You can come out now, Xeno,” Zayn shouts, grinning at me.

When he emerges Xeno can’t look me in the eye, which is just as well because I really couldn’t feel anymore embarrassed than I do right now, and I can’t face him either. Making my excuses, I leave, practically sprinting out of the basement just like York and Dax had earlier. Behind me I can hear Zayn laughing and Xeno tell him to shut the fuck up.

Later that night at home, I look up ‘the clit’ on the internet and spend the next three hours replaceing out all about sex and pleasure. My world opens up in ways I never imagined, and despite my embarrassment at how the whole subject came up, I can’t help but feel grateful for Zayn’s explanation and the fact a clit looks nothing like a goddamn pickle, because eww. One thing I do know for sure is that from now on in I will be avoiding offering up my pickle to be tickled by any fucking one, especially the Breakers.