The Billionaire's Secret Pom-Pom

I dragged my secondhand suitcase up the third floor stairs, letting it make as much noise as possible. The broken wheel was annoying, but it was exactly the effect I was going for.

"Room 312," I muttered to myself, finding the door number. Deep breath, Evie. Showtime.

I pushed open the door and saw a redhead organizing what had to be the most impressive collection of designer bags I'd ever seen outside of a Nordstrom display. Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton—all perfectly arranged on her side of the room.

"Oh my God, you must be my roommie!" She jumped up with a perfect smile and flawless makeup. "I'm Sienna Blackwood. From New Orleans."

Blackwood? Sounds like something straight out of a romance novel. And that Gucci bag's logo is definitely crooked.

"Evangeline Rosemont," I said, letting my voice sound slightly nervous. "But everyone calls me Evie. From Austin."

"Austin! How exciting. I love local girls." Sienna's eyes swept over my Target shopping bags and beat-up suitcase. "Are you on financial aid?"

I nodded, putting on my best shy expression. "Full scholarship. Sports and academics."

"That's amazing! I'm so proud of girls who work hard for their dreams." Her tone was sweet, but something in her eyes made me alert.

There it is. She's already filed me under 'poor roommate.' Perfect.

Later that evening, while Sienna applied her third coat of mascara, she asked, "So what sport got you the scholarship?"

"Cheerleading. I'm trying out for the squad tomorrow."

Sienna's brush stopped mid-air. "Really? So am I."

Of course you are. Let me guess—you think cheerleading is your ticket into the social circle?

"That's great! Maybe we can practice together?" I made my voice sound excited.

"Actually," Sienna turned to her mirror, "I should warn you. The competition is really intense. Coach Morrison only takes the best of the best. And with my training background..." She shrugged like she was saying sorry not sorry.

"What kind of training?"

"Private coaches since I was five. Gymnastics, dance, even some professional training with the Saints cheerleaders." She examined her nails. "Daddy has connections, you know?"

Saints cheerleaders? I know every single one of those girls because Dad owns the team. None of them have ever heard of Sienna Blackwood.

"Wow, that sounds incredible," I said, letting fake admiration shine in my eyes. "I just learned from YouTube videos."

Sienna gave me a pitying smile. "Well, good luck tomorrow, sweetie."

The next morning, the gym was packed with girls in athletic wear clutching water bottles. Coach Morrison stood in the center with her clipboard, looking like she could kill someone with a glance.

"Ladies! Welcome to Texas State cheerleading tryouts. We have 200 hopefuls and 20 spots. Do the math."

I found a spot in the back, deliberately looking nervous and out of place. Sienna positioned herself in the front row, already chatting with other girls like she was team captain.

"First exercise: basic tumbling sequence. Side aerial, back handspring, layout."

I've been doing this sequence since I was five. But right now, I'm 'YouTube-taught' Evie.

Girls went one by one. Some were good, some were... not so good. When Sienna's turn came, she walked to the center with a confident smile. Her performance was okay—technically correct but lacking power and grace. She almost fumbled the layout but covered it well.

Then she did something I didn't expect.

As I walked toward the center for my turn, she "accidentally" kicked her water bottle directly into my path.

"Oh my God, Evie! I'm so sorry!" she called out loudly, drawing everyone's attention.

I looked at the bottle on the floor, then at her eyes. This wasn't an accident.

Alright, Sienna. You want to play games? Let's play.

Instead of moving the bottle, I backed up a few steps, took a running start, and launched into the air right before it. Perfect side aerial over the bottle, followed by a powerful back handspring, finishing with a high-difficulty double layout that stuck the landing like I was glued to the floor.

The gym went silent.

"Impressive," Coach Morrison said, making a note on her clipboard. "What's your name?"

"Evie Rosemont, ma'am."

"And where did you train?"

I could feel Sienna glaring at me. "Self-taught. YouTube and lots of practice."

Coach Morrison raised an eyebrow. "YouTube?"

"Yes ma'am. Couldn't afford professional training, but I really wanted this."

Technically true. I did watch YouTube, though it was to study other teams' routines for competitive analysis.

"Well, Miss Rosemont, remind me never to underestimate the power of the internet."

A few girls laughed. I glanced at Sienna—her face was as red as her hair.

Two weeks later, I stood on the sideline wearing Texas State's cheerleading uniform. Of course, I'd made the squad along with nineteen other girls. Sienna had too, though she was obviously still bitter about tryouts. The stadium packed to the rafters under lights bright as day. This was Friday Night Lights culture in all its glory.

"Ladies, remember your formations!" Coach Morrison shouted in our ears. "This is your first game—don't mess it up!"

Then I saw him.

Number 12, walking toward the field. Even with his helmet on, I'd recognize that stride anywhere.

Axel Kingsley. My... well, it's complicated.

Ten years. We agreed to pretend we don't know each other until this experiment is over. But seeing him in that jersey, ready to lead this team... I almost forgot I'm supposed to be just another 'normal' cheerleader.

The game started. Axel moved across the field like poetry in motion. First pass—45 yards, touchdown. The crowd went insane.

"Oh my God," Madison, the girl next to me, said, "he's incredible."

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound casual. "Pretty good."

Sienna suddenly appeared beside us. "Pretty good? Girl, he's perfect. Did you see those arms? Those shoulders?" Her eyes had a gleam I didn't like. "I'm going to marry that man."

Over my dead body.

After Texas State won 35-14, the entire campus was celebrating, and the biggest party was at the Sigma Chi house. When Madison and I walked in, the music was deafening and red plastic cups were everywhere.

"There he is!" Madison pointed across the room. "The hero himself!"

Axel stood surrounded by people, still wearing his game jersey. He looked tired but happy. When our eyes met, he almost smiled but caught himself.

This is harder than I thought. Pretending not to know someone you've known since you were eight... it's almost cruel.

"I'm going to go congratulate him," Sienna announced, already heading in his direction.

I watched her approach Axel, her walk becoming deliberately seductive, shoulders back, chest forward.

"Hey there, superstar," she said to Axel, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Amazing game tonight."

"Thanks," Axel replied, polite but distant.

"I'm Sienna. Sienna Blackwood." She extended her hand, letting it linger longer than necessary. "I'm on the cheerleading squad."

"Nice to meet you."

"You know," Sienna stepped closer, "I was thinking maybe sometime you could show me around campus? I'm still new here, and it would be so nice to have someone... strong... to protect me."

Gag me with a spoon.

Just then, Axel's eyes moved over Sienna's head and found mine.