Sweetener

Blair

Music boomed throughout the gymnasium as I watched them do a weak kick-twist basket toss. Unsatisfied, my eyes rolled, pressing a button to stop the song.

"What the hell was that?" my voice thundered, seeing them visibly flinch at my tone. "Look alive!"

"Blair, we're exhausted. Can we please take at least a few minutes to rest?" Delilah pleaded, dropping from her position, the two bases catching her in a cradle.

I scanned the team, most of them out of breath and sweaty, their eyes begging me to agree but I knew they could still do a few more reps. "Had you done the stunts properly, I would have given you a break minutes ago. Everyone back to their positions. Again!"

No one dared to utter a word of resistance, only complying to my orders. I pressed play and watched them do the new routine again. This time, doing much better than earlier. It was a wise thing to do knowing that I wouldn't stop until I was satisfied.

Over the years, I learned that 'good' was never enough. 'Good' was what got you in other teams, but you had to be outstanding to get into mine.

Once the music was over, they all looked at me for approval, the flyers desperate to get down and take five. I nodded my head, announcing the much-wanted break they deserved. I heard sighs of relief come from them. Some faint, almost hushed, complains about how tight I was being. I was fully aware of what others thought and said about me, but I never heeded to their words. Unless their opinions helped me run an empire, they were nothing. 

As I was thinking of more stunts to incorporate in our routine, the gym doors flung open and the volleyball varsity team walked in. I recognized a few of their faces, remembering the girls at Hal's Sushi the other night. My eyes spotted a familiar blonde, knowing her as the team captain. She was laughing at something one of her friends said, the corner of her eyes crinkling.

Her head turned and our eyes locked once again. Brown to green. It lasted for a few good seconds until coach Larson came over to speak with her. My lips pursed and I turned back to my team. "Break's over, everyone!"

For the rest of the evening, my thoughts kept drifting to the volleyball captain. There was something about her that caught my attention. I didn't know her name, but I remembered the occasional times I walked past her in the hallway.  I never paid much attention to the other varsity teams either, excluding the basketball players. I was acquainted with some of them because they were useful. Their families had connections that I would probably end up needing in the future.

Lynn Brewster, the captain, was someone I actually needed by my side. When he first moved to Belleview in our freshman year, he was a nerd who stayed silent at the back of class. He was a nobody. No one talked to him. He was teased and ridiculed for the way he acted. It wasn't until I found out that his family owned half of the companies in Europe did I jump in and save him from any more humiliation. I made him the person he was, and since then he became one of my favorite dolls to play with.

I had already talked over some plans with him such as flying to Paris after graduating high school, and he offered me a few places to stay. A future without my parents holding me back was what kept me on top of most of my classes so I had a better chance of getting accepted in the University of Paris.

My curiosity was eating me alive. Why was I suddenly interested in her? I've seen her a couple of times yet I never wanted anything to do with her until now. The next thing I knew, my thumb was dialing Delilah's number on my phone.

"Hey!" she greeted in her singsong voice. In contrast to mine, Delilah had a more bubbly personality that most mistook for as a kind one.

"Hey Li, who's the captain of the volleyball team? You know the blonde one?" I asked.

"Oh her! I don't know actually. I think she's friends with Amara though. I'll ask," I heard rubbish murmurs in the background, their words indecipherable. About a minute or so later, she came back on the line a bit out of breath. "Whitney Montgomery, that's her."

The corner of my lips curled up into a smirk. "Thanks, Li. Love you." I hung up immediately, opening all the social media apps on my phone to find her.

The first one I found was her Twitter account, which was unfortunately on private. Frowning, I moved on to Instagram, also on private. I resorted to my last hope, Facebook. There were a few pictures out for the general audience, but none of them were recent.

I found myself on her page a bit longer than necessary. When a lazy yawn slipped past my lips, I glanced at the time to check how long I had been stalking her. My eyes grew wide at the numbers displayed. It was midnight. I'd been on her account for hours.

Shaking my head, I placed my phone back down on the nightstand, plugging in the charger. There was still a lot I wanted to know about her but I could hardly fight my eyes open. Tomorrow, I told myself.