Crazy in Love

I can feel the adrenaline prickling at the tip of my sweaty fingers. Stomach feeling like a washing-machine on full power, mouth dry, but I keep swallowing, from nerves. This is the big moment. What will determine the direction of my future - up, or down.

I hear the music start and my mind instantly switch's into work-mode. I perform the first flip and my feet land upon the soft rump beneath me, stable, in control. I feel the threat of a wobble approaching but quickly regain my balance with my quick turn and arm movements. I hold strong. My thighs and butt tense up. I hear the coach's voice yelling at me in the back of my mind: "Stay focussed! Keep those muscles tight! Hold your chin!" My cheeks puff out like a fish in my struggle to stay upright. No - no!

Before I can catch myself, I'm lying on the blue matrices on the floor. I had failed. I give my forehead a light smack on the cushioned layer under my body and release this long, disappointed groan of anxiety. Will I ever get this right?

I knew it was only a practise, but the competition was only in a month's time. I had to get my act together if I wanted this scholarship. Big time. As I push myself back onto my legs and wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, a sharp whistle suddenly darts around the hall and flicks my eardrums painfully. I flinch round.

Matt Taylor smiles at me, "Hey beautiful."

I roll my eyes as I stand to my feet, "It's a good job I was down before you came in."

He shrugs and leans against the wall with his arms folded. Once more, he adopts that cocky, confident smirk, although it's not an evil Draco Malfoy-ish smirk. It's a sweet smirk, if that makes sense.

"You heard my footsteps and lost concentration, right?" He teases playfully.

I snicker to myself, beginning to pack away, "I was trying to escape before you got here and tripped on the way."

He laughs; he knows I'm playing the game too, "See, now, I don't know if I believe that."

I shrug with my back to him, "Then sorry, kiddo; can't do much for ya' there."

He gives a quick snort of amusement. I can feel his eyes on my bare back. My attire is quite revealing, as the uniform for gymnasts is not exactly a secure diving-suit from neck to ankle. I sort of... like it. It makes me blush but as I drag the mats to their pile on the far side of the room, I assure that I don't turn his way so he can't see.

"You wanna' ride home?" He suddenly asks.

Damnit. Just when my blush had disappeared and I had managed to recompose myself, he has to go and say something else. I manage to keep my cool as I turn to smile craftily at him. I'm playing hard to get.

"Who's offering?" I play coy.

He looks at the ceiling in playful meditation, "He's this dude I know. Great smile, extremely funny, a lot of charm. You might know him?"

I sweep up my kit bag as I walk towards him, "Oh, my dad's outside?"

As I pass, I hold his gaze until the last second, when I budge the door open with my knee. He could see I was smiling. He laughs, and spins round, catching the door after me to follow behind my trail.

"Offer going once..." He begins to speak as he paces coolly behind me, his eyes watching my every step, "Going twice"-

I spin round when I get to the changing-room doors, "I need to shower real quick."

"Do you?" He rhetorically asks - and mischievously so.

"I doubt you want your car covered in sweat." I scoff, leaning my weight on one leg.

He flashes a crude smile, and I realise what I had just said. I roll my eyes and turn to leave.

"Gimme' 10 minutes." I request, in a demanding tone.

The doors swing shut behind me, leaving Matt to wait outside on his own. Everyone had already left at least an hour ago, but Matt had Football practise. He was so passionate about the sport. We all noticed a change in his spirit when he had to take a break from football for a few months after he accidentally got kicked in the ankle and fractured it. It was probably mistaken for the ball, ouchie.

So, after about fifteen minutes (make them wait a little, ladies; my mum taught me that one) of showering and changing clothes, I finally come out wearing a pair of light jeans and a simple grey t-shirt with flip-flops. Matt is nowhere to be seen, until I leave the school and notice him standing by his vehicle in the car-park. He was finishing a cigarette. Gross.

He smiles upon seeing me approach and helps me load my bag into the back of his Corsa, and I independently find my own way to the passenger seat before he could offer to get the door. Words weren't needed to help us relax. We were cool. The engine purred, the Klaxons blasted out from the stereo, and we went speeding out onto the country road. Yes, we live in the quietness of Dorset - the rural side of life.

He was a skilled driver. At first, I was a little wary because of his speed, but my dad drove at the same acceleration; I just apprehended that he wasn't as experienced, but I was wrong. He could handle his ride quite well. However, the look on my mum's face wasn't one of approval when we pulled up outside my house. I frown at seeing her through the kitchen window.

"Thanks for the lift," I sigh appreciatively at him, smiling lightly, as I unclip my seatbelt, "I won't make it a habit."

I get out of the car and open the back door to grab my bag. I have just shut it and prepared to turn away when he speaks:

"I don't mind if you do." He flirtatiously replies.

I stop at that moment. His words are cute - cocky, but cute. That's Matt Taylor for you. He makes it hard for you to perceive him as a genuine, innocent guy - purely because he isn't that at all! But something about him intrigues me. Maybe I could give his company a chance? Biting my lip, half smiling, with curiosity, I nod to myself and turn to face him one last time.

"My parents are away for the weekend. I'm thinking of having some people round for a movie and pizza. You and a couple of your guys are welcome to come? I mean... if you've got nothing better to do." I offer as confidently as I can, although I do tuck my brown hair behind my ears one too many times to seem like a natural.

Matt watches me for a second, as though he is thinking, but also just... watching. He finally gives a faint nod and what I recognise as a genuine smile in the corner of his lush lips.

"I'll ask 'em what they're doing. But I'll more than likely be round at about six...?" He states while asking for permission through his tone of voice.

I nod and smile properly. Just then, the front door to my house clicks open and I hear my mum call me; her voice sounds flat. Far from happy, though I thankfully know that Matt doesn't know my mum well enough to be able to deduce that. I wave him goodbye and casually stroll up to the house seeming calm and poised - though I have a guilty look on my face as I approach my mum. I step up into the house and she sends Matt a stiff stare; he nods and raises his hand respectfully, oblivious, before pulling away from the curb and driving off.

"Alicia..." My mum sighs when she closes the door.

She's used my full name, rather than my shortened name 'Ally'. That's what everyone calls me, even my parents, except for occasions like this when they are angry or trying to prove a point.

I huff and let my bag fall to my feet, "I know what you're going to say, but please, mum, believe me when I say that he's a good driver."

"Maybe to you, but he's still just a boy. Don't you listen to a word your father and I tell you?" She lectures irritably, her eyebrows are scrunched together, and her lips are pursed.

I hold my hands out innocently, "I'm not an idiot, mum. I won't just get in anyone's car - you and dad have taught me well. Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you, Ally," At least I can tell my mum is relaxing because of the name thing, "... It's other people I don't trust. It's them."

When she says this, she points her finger hard at the windows either side of the oak door. I sigh guiltily, but also in weariness. I've heard this song before. My parents have to be the most protective, out of anyone's. My mum was a lawyer for 7 years before she joined business with my dad as an architect in their own company. But for those 7 years, she had seen nothing but the worst of life, so I couldn't really blame her for her paranoia. I know they only try to protect me... but it seems I am only doing wrong. Every time, I'm being scolded. I just wish I had a little more freedom, ya' know?

My mum puts her hands on my shoulders and gives me 'the look', "Now, I won't tell your father about this... but you have to promise me you won't get in his car again."

"Are you serious?" My nose wrinkles in frustration; I hate it when she does this.

My mum raises her eyebrows authoritatively, "Don't I look serious?"

I simply roll my eyes in defeat, "... I promise."

She nods before planting a short kiss on my cheek, "As your father and I have been packing all day for our early leave tomorrow, I haven't had time to prepare supper, so we're ordering takeout. Chinese."

I nod in understanding and let her walk by and down the hall, towards the kitchen. I can hear my dad humming to some cheesy Elvis Presley tune. I sigh, and shake my head at the ceiling hopelessly:

"God, give me strength..."

And that's the short introduction to how the story unfolds. If only I had realised what my actions would cause. What I was about to create... Fate had it in for me. Not just through my over-protective, paranoid parents, but through a chain of connecting events. Everything was about to change. I was about to meet one of those people who would never make any sense. Only craziness.