Emily

I stand, "Why would I choose anyone but you, I have dirt on you."

He stands up and says, "Are you going punish Wade"

She says, "Yes, he won't make to the end of the year."

He says, "Okay, I choose Emily your co-captain."

She pulls out the phone and says, "Are you sure, she is a bit wild woman. You know what they say about red heads."

Natalie leaves the room, his computer is filled with tons and tons of sex pictures and sex tapes with Emily the star. I cannot believe what I am seeing, there is sex video of Natalie and Emily fucking each other with double dildo, you pull out your dick to masturbate. There are also other pictures that she is cheater and uses her influence on junior cheerleaders, it is not sexual but definitely humiliating. There are also other videos of her step mother with other prominent ladies and videos of father embezzling from the church, he is youth pastor "

I get text from Natalie, "Is that enough dirt, I will put our sessions on permanent hold, I have more dirt on her if you desire. Meet her at the gym."

The gym air smelled of floor wax and stale sweat as I stepped onto the hardwood. Emily was already there, pacing the edge of the mat. The copper-red of her hair was pulled back into a high, severe ponytail that caught the harsh overhead fluorescent lights, making the strands look like spun wire. She wore her team-issued shell and skirt, the fabric stretched tight over a lean, athletic frame that spoke of years of punishing gymnastics training.

Her physique was perfectly balanced for her role: she possessed a tight, toned midsection, firm legs defined by years of tumbling, and a striking, athletic shape that accentuated her 32B bust and rounded, firm seat. Every gesture—from the way she paced to the way she stretched—betrayed the years of discipline and control demanded of a top-tier athlete.

When she saw me approach, she didn’t bother to stop. She didn’t even look away from the court until I was nearly upon her. Finally, she turned, her hazel eyes scanning me with the same look one might give a piece of discarded equipment. "Natalie said you were coming," she said, her voice dripping with an icy, dismissive edge. "Don't get the wrong idea, 'tutor.' This isn't about me needing your help. It’s about Natalie wanting a project, and apparently, you’re it."

As you got closer, the disdain radiating from her was palpable. She didn't offer a greeting, choosing instead to cross her arms over her chest, the motion tightening the fit of her uniform and emphasizing her frustration. She kicked at a discarded water bottle, sending it skittering across the floor with a hollow clack, clearly telegraphing that she was only there because she had been forced to be. Her posture was coiled, vibrating with an irritated, restless energy that made it obvious she viewed your presence as an insulting interruption to her day. She didn't even bother to hide her scowl as she looked you up and down, making no secret of the fact that she was actively disgusted by the prospect of having to lower herself to deal with someone she considered a "loser."