Ex-Factor (Diamond Girls) Read Online Free PDF Page B

dull fluorescent lighting in the small room cast an odd, greenish glow over my black hair and brown eyes, and made my pale skin look sallow and wan. A spray tan was definitely in my near future. I pulled a hair tie from the top drawer beneath the sink and swept my hair back off my face, the motion both familiar and painful all at once. Up until six months ago, I’d worn my hair like this every day for practice at the gym.
    I blew out a ragged breath and tugged at the hem of the white tee I wore. X-Factor Cheer graced the front in black and white zebra lettering. Livvie’s practice clothes were cute and comfortable. I was beyond happy we were only a year apart in age and the same size. I’d tossed all my leotards when I quit practicing gymnastics, and I was pretty damned sure that particular article of clothing wasn’t the norm at a cheer gym.
    School clothes in hand, I exited the bathroom and presented myself to my younger cousin for inspection. “Well?”
    She grabbed my dirty clothes, chucked them into the nearby hamper, then turned to face me and smiled. “You look great. Like you’ve been cheering your whole life.”
    I didn’t share her enthusiasm but kept my trap shut. Livvie had done her best to make me feel accepted and at home, and as uncomfortable and nervous as I was, I wanted to show her I was trying. Maybe not wholeheartedly, but I was trying.
    Having changed into practice clothes while I was in the bathroom, she shoved the new pair of cheer shoes Aunt Trish had purchased at me and inclined her head toward the door. “C’mon,” she said, picking my book bag off the floor. “We’ve got one hour to hit the books and eat before we head out. My mom will kill me if you’re late to your tryout.”
    The anxiety building inside me spiked, and I followed Livvie down the narrow hallway toward the kitchen. Tonight would go one of two ways for me: I’d suck it up and power through the anxiety and pain I experienced when tumbling, or I’d fall to pieces and freak everyone the hell out. Either way, it was sure to suck.

Chapter Four
     
    Status update: Squeeze it ‘til it screams!
    Few things in life were more humiliating than upchucking in public, especially for a sixteen-year-old girl. Public breakup? Definitely. Period accident? God yes. Discovering a pair of underpants had somehow attached themselves to my favorite hoodie in the wash?
    Kill.
    Me.
    Now.
    My stomach gurgled. Bile and lumpy bits of the nasty sandwich I’d forced down at lunch rocketed upward, threatening to blow past my lips in a violent and altogether embarrassing protest. I tore my gaze from the blue springboard mat in search of a way out—a back exit or a window to catapult my body through.
    There were none.
    Livvie stood in front of the only door leading into the spacious room, an excited smile spread across her mouth.
    Oh God. I’m trapped.
    I bit down on the inside of my lip, and to my utter freaking shame, proceeded to calculate the amount of time it would take to knock her happy butt to the floor and flee the building. Pull yourself together, girl. You will NOT spew in public. Nor will you trample Livvie in a desperate attempt to escape.
    My breath hitched as the ground swayed beneath my feet. For a second, I wondered if “the big one” had finally hit California, but then realized the ground wasn’t shaking—I was. I closed my eyes, inhaled slowly, and tried to swallow the tacky lump crowding my throat. Dammit. You can do this, Nev. You have to try.
    For Livvie. For Aunt Trish. They’d allowed me to invade their lives, their home. They’d graciously taken me in when my grandmother could no longer care for me. I owed them big time, and would soldier through my impending cheer tryout with or without a mouth full of vomit.
    Preferably without.
    A thin coating of sweat covered my palms, and my pulse pounded in my ears. Unwilling to disappoint my only remaining family, I squelched back my anxiety, focused on my choppy breathing,