Page 82 of Blackwood

“Later,” I mutter.

“I see some familiar faces this week.” He throws a pointed wink toward Cal and August and then to a few of the basketball boys sitting nearby. “Football gods, Order royalty, and resident heart-breakers. Welcome back, gentlemen.”

Cal leans back in his seat, arms crossed, staring right at the girl of my dreams. August raises his beer like it’s a toast.

“And some new faces,” Javi continues, letting his gaze sweep over the rest of the bleachers, then pauses right on me. “Welcome, welcome. Consider yourselves lucky. Not everyone gets to witness greatness up close.”

There’s a ripple of laughter from the crowd. I manage a tight smile.

Javi flips to a new page on his clipboard and clicks his pen like it’s a weapon. “We are The Wexley Legacy. And this—” he gestures to the floor where Bella, Ellie, and Haley are now in formation, their matching sets practically glowing under the lights “—is The Trifecta.”

Coach Javi claps once, sharp and commanding. “Alright, Knox. You know what to do.”

Knox steps up to the center with that easy, cocky grin of his. He’s got his laptop under one arm, mic in the other, and somehow manages to look like both a DJ and a cult leader.

“Ladies,” he drawls into his mic, “and fellow Wolves, welcome to the official Wexley Legacy rehearsal.” A pause, dramatic and full of swagger. “But more importantly, as Javi said, welcome to The Trifecta.”

The crowd hoots. Cal and August fist bump like jackasses. I just shift in my seat, trying to look casual.

Knox grins. “Now, let’s set the tone. Problem Child?”

Bella steps forward, black shorts hugging her hips, that purple sports bra doing things to me I’m not proud of. Her ponytail swings with each step, but it’s her eyes that lock me in place.

She’s not the same girl from Cinco de Mayo. She’s different now, sharper. Fierce. Like she walked through hell and came back colder, meaner, and untouchable. There’s power in her now. Not the showy kind. The kind that makes the room hold its breath.

“Okay,” she says, smile sharp, voice clear. “We’re here to dance, to practice, and to kick ass at Worlds. But that doesn’t mean we don’t get to have a little fun.”

Ellie and Haley fall in behind her, matching energy like it’s choreographed, which knowing them, it probably is.

“You’ll see us dance. Sing. Lip sync. And yeah,” she smirks, eyes skimming the front row, “there’ll be a few chairs.”

“Woo!” August yells like he’s at a strip club.

“Not you, Augie.”

The gym explodes in laughter, August included. She spins slowly, making sure she’s got the room’s attention.

She does.

“Now. If you’re lucky enough to be picked for a chair dance, there are rules.” Her voice sharpens. “Wetouch you. You don’t touch us.”

Instant silence.

“And if you break that rule or make any of us uncomfortable, Josh, Drake, and Sam—” she points toward the three guys now stretching behind the group “—will take you out.”

“Literally,” Ellie adds sweetly.

Cal lets out a low laugh. “Harsh.”

Bella raises an eyebrow. “Not harsh, baby. Policy.”

“Alright, ladies,” Knox calls out, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Let’s start the night off sexy.”

He raises one hand like a ringmaster calling in the lions. “With a chair!”

Cheers, whistles, and a fewoh shits break out from the guys in the row behind us.

Knox chuckles into the mic. “Y’all asked for it.”