Chapter 4: The Apology
I spot her before she sees me. Bianca Ricci is stretched out on the practice field like she owns it, one leg kicked up behind her in a quad stretch that shows off the flexibility of a dancer. Her dark hair catches the sun, sleek and sharp as a blade.
The other cheerleaders are scattered across the grass, running through formations, but Bianca's apart from them. Her eyes are closed, and she's wearing a satisfied little smile that makes my stomach turn.
I walk toward her, my new body jiggling with every step. I feel like a target with a bullseye painted on my chest. The jersey and shorts do nothing to hide the hourglass shape I've been cursed with. A few of the cheerleaders stop and stare, whispering to each other. I ignore them.
Bianca opens her eyes exactly when I'm ten feet away. Her dark eyes lock onto mine, and that smile widens into something cold and knowing.
"You look like you've been through the wringer, quarterback." She releases her leg and folds her arms across her chest. "Or should I say, quarterbackette?"
"Bianca." My voice cracks. I hate how desperate I sound. "Please. I get it, okay? I was an asshole. I was cruel. But this..."
I gesture at myself, at the curves and the breasts and the stupid glossy lips that catch the light.
"Lift the curse. I'll do anything."
Bianca cocks her head, studying me like I'm a bug pinned to a board. "Anything?"
"Yes. Just name it."
She steps closer, close enough that I can smell her perfume. Something floral and sharp.
She gets close with a mischievous smile. “One of our squad sprained her ankle. We need a replacement. She’ll be back in three weeks. You look like you still have your athleticism under all those curves and you’re just the kind of eye candy the men love to see cheering at football games…”
I blink at her, my brain stumbling over her words like a rookie hitting a blitz. "Wait. What?"
Bianca's smile sharpens. "You heard me. We're short a flyer for the next three weeks. You step in, learn the routine, shake your pom poms, and look pretty for the home crowd. Then maybe, just maybe, I'll consider undoing what I did."
"Cheerleader." The word comes out flat, disbelieving. "You want me to be a cheerleader."
"I want you to know what it's like to be looked at. To be used as eye candy for a game you used to play." She circles me, and I feel her gaze crawling over my curves like she's inspecting livestock. "You were the star quarterback, Alex. The big man on campus. Now you get to be the ornament on the sidelines. See how that feels."
My hands clench into fists at my sides. A surge of my old anger flares up, hot and familiar. "You can't be serious."
"I'm dead serious." She stops in front of me again, crossing her arms. "Three weeks. Then I lift the curse. Or you can walk away and stay like this forever. Your choice."
I think about Coach Dunn. About the way he looked at me, the way his body reacted. I think about Dave, about the leer in his voice when he thought I was just some random girl. I think about walking across campus, every pair of eyes on me, every whistle, every assumption.
And I think about going back to being Alex Renner. About throwing a spiral in front of a packed stadium. About being the guy who could have anyone.
I swallow hard. "Fine. Three weeks."
Bianca's smile turns triumphant. "Good boy. Practice is at six tomorrow morning. Don't be late. And Alex?" She leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Try to enjoy it. You might learn something."