Chapter 278
Olive was dancing; Crystal was surrounded by admirers. "Crystal, look, Watson's here!" an excited girl exclaimed. Their "Baby" performance ignited the audience; no one could get close. They were anticipating Watson's routine, expecting a comedic spectacle—expecting their cheerleaders to be underwhelming dancers. Watson was, after all, famously renowned. Crystal, too, awaited Watson's appearance, particularly Olive's. Olive's stage presence was a source of some apprehension for Crystal; it could highlight the contrast between them. This time, Crystal aimed to definitively prove her superiority to Elvis.
"Crystal, use my towel," a fan offered. "Crystal, have a drink." Crystal graciously thanked them, her gaze lingering on Elvis's tall, handsome form in the observatory. She was determined to win him over.
"Look, Watson's here!" Crystal's eyes darted upwards as Olive and the Watson cheerleaders entered the arena. Their uniforms—simple white t-shirts over black pleated skirts—were strikingly understated, yet this simplicity showcased the girls' youthful purity and charm. Their hair was neatly tied up, the short shirts accentuating their slender waists; their movements were fluid and alluring, possessing an enchanting innocence. Crystal's pupils constricted. While other colleges favored vibrant, showy uniforms, Watson University's pure white ensemble created a captivating contrast, instantly commanding attention.
Crystal overheard whispers in the crowd. "Wow, why are the Watson girls so pretty this time?" "Look at Olive in the center; she's Watson's beauty queen. They say she jumped to second place in the overall school beauty queen rankings overnight!" "That university's beauty queen is stunning; she has a fairy-like aura." "It's not just looks; she really seems ethereal."
Crystal observed Olive, center stage, unveiled for the first time. Her high ponytail revealed a delicate face, exquisite curves, and an enchanting, ethereal quality. Immediately, she became the focal point. Crystal angrily dug her nails into her palm. Audrey whispered, "Crystal, what happened to Watson? Did they get an expert advisor?"
"Don't worry, let's see their dance first," Crystal sneered. Even with their improved appearance, poor choreography would still prove detrimental. "Yes, we all know they're not skilled choreographers; their routine can't surpass ours!" Audrey declared confidently.
The music began—the sweet melody of "Honey." Alicia and the others sweated nervously, taking deep breaths to compose themselves. Olive, however, stood gracefully in the center, devoid of tension or fear. Her eyes were clear and bright. As the music started, she led the team with effortless grace. North's choreography for "Honey" was simple: a free-flowing left hand and a circling right. These moves, elementary compared to Crystal's fiery "Baby," were nonetheless captivating, performed with charm and a touch of playful slyness by the endearing girls in their white t-shirts. Instantly, the basketball team captain's water bottle slipped from his grasp; he was mesmerized.
Olive's skill shone through; "Honey" was perfectly suited to her. Midway through, they turned, and Olive's eyes locked onto Elvis in the observatory. She saw him looking back. Whether due to her sharp eyesight or his intense gaze, she could clearly see his narrowed eyes appraising her from head to toe—the look a man gives a woman. Olive's cheeks flushed. Dancing this dance before her crush was undeniably embarrassing, yet the memory of his accusations of seduction fueled her audacity. She moved to the music, her small hands resting on her slender waist, her hips swaying. Elvis's eyes darkened, his Adam's apple bobbing. Did she dare claim she wasn't seducing him? She was now openly doing so, bolder than ever. He didn't know the extent of her efforts to attract him, but he found everything about her appealing—her delicate features, her bright eyes, her graceful form. He noted her preference for bright, soft colors and delicate hues, finding himself captivated. He'd never imagined a girl could be so perfectly suited to him, fulfilling his every fantasy.
Lately, Elvis felt a strange pull towards her. Today, he'd specifically inquired about Watson's Principal Harris, even agreeing to watch the cheerleaders. He'd never done such a thing before; he felt her influence.
"Honey" ended, and Olive and the Watson cheerleaders bowed. The audience erupted in cheers; someone even blew a horn. The atmosphere was far more vibrant than after Crystal's performance. Olive had effortlessly claimed the title of cheerleader queen.
Audrey stamped her foot. "Crystal, Watson was despicable this year. They must have guessed our strategy and countered it. 'Honey' perfectly complemented 'Baby'; our performance was too intense, not suitable for college girls. 'Honey'—sweet, cute, and highly relatable—perfectly captured men's psychology, easily outshining us."
Crystal understood. Their "Baby" had become secondary. Watson had played a brilliant psychological game. How had they become so adept? She glanced up, catching sight of a familiar, languid figure in the crowd—North Paulo. By the time she looked again, he was gone.