Chapter 3

College textbooks and access codes were ridiculously expensive.

Looking at the massive balance due, the crushing weight of reality hit me all over again.

I called student financial services. The advisor was sympathetic and allowed me to set up an installment plan: pay per term, but if I defaulted, my registration for the next semester would be dropped immediately.

My entire monthly check would barely cover these academic fees.

I needed a safety net. I thought about asking friends, but everyone was scraping by, and borrowing money among classmates was taboo. My relatives back home had already tapped out their savings for my dad.

While I was spiraling, my phone buzzed with an unknown text.

"Hey, it's Tucker. Saw you at Coach's office earlier."

The image of that muscular giant flashed in my mind. Frowning, I texted back: "How did you get my number?"

"Coach gave it to me. Told me to show you around the squad."

"Bullshit. Shouldn't another cheerleader be doing that?"

"Oh, the other girls? They're kinda tied up right now."

A second later, Tucker sent a photo.

It was him, half-naked, with a blonde girl wearing our cheer uniform draped over him in an explicit pose.

I slammed my phone screen down, my face burning in disgust.

Before I could breathe, the phone started ringing. It was him.

I declined the call. He called right back. Declining again didn't stop him; he was relentless.

I wanted to block him, but knowing we had to work in the same program, I finally picked up, ready to chew him out and threaten him.

The moment the call connected, a woman's breathy, ecstatic moans flooded the speaker.

Beneath her cries were the low, guttural pants of a man driving hard.

My mind went blank for a few seconds before the reality sank in.

Tucker’s voice came through, heavy and ragged. "Hear that? Told you... she's busy."

The girl let out another filthy, uninhibited scream.

"You're a sick bastard!" I spat into the mic. "Call me again and I'm dialing 911!"

I hung up and beat my pillow in rage.

It took a long time for the anger to subside.

Involuntarily, the memory of Tucker standing over me in the hallway crept back into my thoughts.

His towering frame, the outline of his physique under that jersey, and that raw, primal hunger in his eyes... My breathing grew shallow and uneven.

Between the stress and the isolation, I hadn't touched another person in months.

Human bodies have needs, no matter how much you try to deny them.

I opened my nightstand and pulled out my little vibrator.

When it was over, I lay alone on the mattress, swallowed by a deep, suffocating emptiness.

For a terrifying second, I thought that if I died right here in this apartment, nobody would even notice for weeks.

I took a cold shower, tossed and turned for hours, and finally drifted off into a restless sleep.

The next morning, the alarm snapped me awake. I brushed my teeth, put on light makeup, and headed to the university arena.

My first official day on the cheer team.

My stomach was tied in knots.

I still hadn't deleted the photo Tucker sent me.