The Zip Files Bk. 02: Zip Does Gymnasts Ch. 08

"Uh..." Zip said, unsure what to say.

But his face said everything she needed to know. She stared at him, trembling. "My boyfriend just cheated on me," she reminded him. "Now my replacement boyfriend lasted two days, before he cheated too. And with... with her. How... how could you?!"

Zip rubbed the back of his neck, feeling her eyes boring into him like death rays. "It was... in a good cause?" he ventured, sheepishly.

"In a good cause..." Summer whispered. From the look on her pretty face, she didn't know how to process this. "You cheated on me for a good cause? Of all the... how the fuck is that possible?"

Zip shrugged. "Well, you know..." he said. He nodded out towards the gym, where the latest fallen Playa gymnast was limping off the floor, aided by the medic and her coach. A giant blush on her cheeks, Heather briefly looked up towards Zip, then cast her eyes down and took another hesitant step.

Following his gaze, Summer's eyes started to widen slightly, and her jaw dropped. She had suspected something was up, but not exactly what. She had gone digging, and then her brain had shut down as soon as she found the first incriminating videos of him with Heidi. Only now, did the first premonition of the truth seem to enter her brain.

Eyes swinging over, she looked over at the other two failed Playa gymnasts sitting on the sidelines. On cue, one tilted her head back and let out an enormous yawn.

"No..." Summer whispered. With wide eyes she turned back to his phone. She lifted up a trembling finger, and swiped. And then swiped, and swiped, and swiped. "Oh.. oh my God!" she moaned, her eyes widening in disbelief, as images of Zip fucking one Playa girl after another after another played out upon the screen. "Oh... oh my fucking GOD!" she moaned again, louder, her eyes getting wider and wider with each image.

"Shhh..." Zip said. "Not so loud!" He looked around nervously.

Down the row, a few of the other girls leaned out and looked down the row suspiciously at the sight of Summer gasping in horror at something on Zip's phone. But, leotard-clad hips squirming atop their seats, they did not come over and try to intervene. Sitting back, they left the two of them alone for now - although their eyes continued to dart over suspiciously.

"Oh, my God," Summer gasped. She held her forehead with one hand, while the other held the quivering phone. She was visibly having trouble processing everything. The look on her face made it seem like inside her head, what was happening was the human equivalent to when a computer locked up, froze, and then crashed. Then, with a deep breath, it all seemed to finally click. Looking up, she stared at the field of humiliation for Playa's athletes. Then she turned back to Zip.

"You... you did that to them," she said. She glanced down at his crotch, and shook her head. "With that... thing!"

"Well... yes..." Zip said.

"And you... you thought I would be pleased?!" she asked, horrified. "You cheated! I mean, with me, but also - this is cheating!"

"Is it?" Zip asked. "Not the first part, the second. If it's not clear from the photos, they didn't exactly with-hold consent. Is it cheating, if they basically did it to themselves - so to speak?"

Summer bit her lip. "Well... no," she admitted. "But still - that isn't how I wanted to win!" A few tears appeared in her eyes, at the feeling of her recent victory being tarnished.

"That's very noble of you," he said. "Pity your opponents didn't share those values."

She stared at him. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Reaching into his pocket, he brought out her failed shoe. He held it up for her. "Is this the shoe I put out this morning?" he asked her.

She frowned. Taking it, she examined it and then turning it over, gasped. "No," she said. "This is from last year." She looked up, puzzled. "I... I thought I lost it..." she said.

"Someone found it," Zip said.

She stared. Her fingers stroked the snapped strap, carefully, as the pieces came together in her head. A tremble of deep rage flickered across her face, but she suppressed it a moment later. "Do you know that for a fact?" she whispered softly.

"I overheard them talking about it after it happened," he said. He neglected to tell her how. "I don't have any proof, but..."

Summer nodded slowly. Her finger stroked the snapped strap again, and then a shiver ran through her, up from her injured ankle all along her body to her face.

"Well... well FUCK them!" she hissed at last, in fury.

Zip could not resist.

"Yeah... already took care of that," he reminded her.

She wheeled on him. "N-not like that!" she hissed, and waved a furious finger in his smirking face.

At that moment, Coach Swan sauntered back towards them. Not wanting to get into this with her Coach right away, Summer reached around and tucked Zip's phone up underneath her own sleek thighs, before Coach Swan could see what was on it.

"Cool it you two," the blonde Coach said, as she turned to sit back down beside them. "The medical officer is almost done checking out the last gymnast, so the final performance is going to start soon." She had observed their animated conversation from afar, but had no idea of its nature. As she sat down, she noticed Summer was examining her failed shoe.

"I see you're looking at that," she said. She glanced up, and then back down. "Did Zip share any of his, uh, theories with you?" she asked.

Summer took a deep breath - then shook her head.

"No," she said.

Not turning her head, she glanced her eyes over and glared at Zip.

"C-clearly someone was just... not doing what they were supposed to!" she hissed.

Coach Swan nodded, then reached out and patted her hand comfortingly. "Well," she said. "Let that be a lesson to you - always be careful with where you put your trust."

Summer squirmed. "Way ahead of you on that," she said. Not wanting to hold the shoe any longer either, she handed it to Zip. He swallowed, and obediently returned it to his pocket. Turning away from him, Summer looked up at Coach Swan.

"So," she said, "where do we stand?"

Coach Swan took a deep breath. "On the edge of a knife," she admitted. "All those falls brought Playa way down, but they had a big lead. It's basically going to come down to Heidi. If she can perform to her usual standard... they probably still take it, I'm afraid. It's going to be very close either way. As for individual, well... I'd say you're almost a lock there. Unless she pulls a Moors out of her ass or something, she's not going to match your difficulty. But if her execution is absolutely perfect... well, we'll just see."

Glancing over to the Playa bench, Zip could see Heidi talking with her own coach - and could guess, based on the expressions, that she was receiving a similar report. A look of grim determination crossed her face. Curious, he slipped the earpiece back in and turned it on. His bug re-activated too late to hear anything from the coach, but did cut in just as Heidi was standing up, having been given the word that the floor was hers. She turned around, and started taking off the Playa-branded jacket she had been wearing over her leotard to help keep warm.

"Well," she hissed - looking furious but surprisingly calm, under the circumstances, "looks like somebody has to go maintain standards around here."

"Good lu-" a couple of girls started to say. But, with a hiss, Heidi cut them off with a raised finger.

"Shut it!" she growled. "Every last one of you failed me today! So now you just sit down, shut the fuck up - and watch as a true mistress of the art shows both you and those San Caj losers how it's done!"

With that, she tossed down her jacket like a gauntlet, turned, and strutted out onto the floor. Reaching her mark she began stretching and limbering up.

Sitting next to Summer, Zip squirmed uncomfortably. Finally, he could not bear the silence. He leaned a little closer. "I'm sor-" he started to say.

But she promptly cut him off with a hiss.

"Shut it!" she said.

Raising a harsh finger of her own, she waved it accusatively in his face.

"I... I am still coming to terms with what you have done," she hissed. "Everything you have done," she added - doing her best to keep her voice low so Coach Swan would not overhear, despite the furious intensity of the emotions flowing through her. "But for the moment... this moment is only possibly going to be the end of what has been the focus of my entire god-damn life up to now, so could you please do me a giant favor, and just keep your damn mouth shut?!"

"Uh, sure..." Zip said.

"Thanks!" she growled. Sitting back upright, she folded her arms over her breasts, and watched as Heidi continued her warm-up. Before, she had always maintained a perfect mask of the sort of calm, friendly politeness an athlete was expected to display in the face of her opponents - clapping with at least realistically feigned enthusiasm for both the no-hopers and her fierce rivals alike. But now Summer's eyes seemed to direct a lethal death-glare at Heidi's scantily-clad well-rounded backside as it bent and wiggled obliviously before her - as she had just learned that the Playa Team Captain had done far more to wrong her than she had probably ever dreamed possible.

At last, the warm-up was complete, and the moment of truth arrived.

"Here we go," Coach Swan murmured, as Heidi's music started.

As with Summer's, Heidi's routine would consist of four tumbling passes interspersed with dance segments. Her face a mask of composed confidence, Heidi began to writhe through her initial dance moves. These were, bluntly, more sensuous and seductive-looking than Summer's, her voluptuous backside repeatedly wiggling back and forth before Zip and Summer as her arms and legs moved with perfect precision. Then, turning, she entered her run.

It was as flawless as ever. She leaped, did a handspring, a couple of tumbles, then soared upwards. Her body flew effortlessly through a tucked double salto, and then came down perfectly onto her feet, planting firmly.

And then, suddenly, everything went wrong. With a gasp, Heidi's arms started to pinwheel wildly, as a quiver ran through her legs. Her face, which had been a mask of death-like determination up to this point, suddenly broke open into a gasp of shock. She tottered back and forth for a moment - then she lost it. With a startled squeal, she toppled backwards, and landed flat on her butt, seated down, upon the mat.

For a moment, utter silence gripped the arena. Heidi, sitting bolt upright upon her ass, stared dead ahead. She was so still, with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging slightly open, that she looked like a sex doll that someone had accidentally abandoned in the middle of the gym. Then, slowly, a tremor broke out across her face, which rapidly twisted into a furious snarl.

"NO!" Heidi bellowed. Hands forming them into fists, she pounded them into the mat to either side of her scantily-clad hips. "No! NO! NO! NOOOO!!" she squealed over and over again.

"Oh... oh Jesus..." Coach Swan said, staring.

Summer beside him looked stunned. But she could not keep the tiniest trace of a smile from spreading across her lips.

Rolling over, Heidi lay on her belly, and continued screaming. "No! NO! NO!" she squealed, pounding both her hands and fists into the mat like a toddler throwing a tantrum at being denied a second bottle of milk.

With gasps, her team-mates surged up off the bench and ran to the edge of the mat, to try to comfort her.

"Come on!" one said.

"Your time is still running!" another said.

"You can still get back up, and keep going!" a third reminded her.

But, rather than take their advice, Heidi whirled on them and snarled like a wolf. She struggled up to her feet - her sleek legs still struggling with far more instability in this simple maneuver than a gymnast of her caliber should ever have required. Then, turning on them, she began to tear rhinestones off her leotard and hurl them at her team-mates in fury.

"No!" she hissed - tears running down her cheeks. "This... this is all your fault!" she said, hurling a handful of rhinestones at them. "I was perfect! I'm perfect!" She tore off another handful, and hurled them as well.

Falling back, her team-mates gasped in shock. They raised their arms up over their faces, hands open, to ward off the flying gemstones, like a group of schoolchildren at the zoo might shield themselves from a wild monkey hurling its poop at them. In the process of ripping off her gemstones, several gashes opened up in Heidi's leotard - including one that showed her belly-button, and another that showed off the entire nipple and areola of her right breast.

Sensing that if she kept shredding her uniform she might end up on the floor naked, Heidi switched tactics. Lunging forward, she tried to continue warding away her hated team-mates with a kick. However, she missed. Having apparently recovered none of her poise and balance, with a yelp Heidi went right back down onto her ass. She sat there for a moment, stunned. Then, her initial surge of fury seeming to break, she put her face into her hands and began loudly sobbing. Sensing it was finally safe, her team-mates came forward again. Bending down around her, they rubbed and cooed at her to comfort her - as the sounding of a buzzer, and the ending of her music, announced that her performance had ended regardless.

"W-well... "Summer said softly, sitting beside him and staring at her weeping rival being comforted by her team. "Normally... normally I would say that I never want to see another gymnast go through this, but, uh... I think I'm going to make an exception in Heidi's case." Then, realizing her remarks might be misinterpreted, she promptly whirled round and glared at him. "But don't think that means I approve of what you did, you... ZIp!" she hissed. She waved her finger in his face. "I'm still figuring out what the fuck to think about that, but rest assured - you are not out of my doghouse yet! Do you understand?!"

"Perfectly," Zip said. But he could not quite keep a tiny smirk off his lips.

Squirming, Summer shot him a furious glare. Then, whirling back around, she turned her gaze determinedly back out onto the floor and refused to look at him.

Meanwhile, as the attempts to comfort Heidi continued on the mat - with highly mixed success - some consternation was again occurring at the judge's table. This time, it was Judge Morgan who turned and faced her colleagues.

"So..." she said. "If... if it's alright with everyone, can we just consider this a disqualification? I... I really don't think I have the heart to assign a score to... that."

The other two shifted, and glanced at each other.

"I am inclined to agree," Judge Fukuda said. "After all, I don't see 'toddler tantrum' and 'failed kick transitioning onto buttocks' in the code of points - and by my count, those would have to be among her eight most difficult maneuvers, so we would have to score them."

"However," Judge Butler said, "if it were just the individual I might agree, but... we need a score for the team totals, correct? Do you want to just go with zeros?"

Judge Morgan grit her teeth, then nodded. "Well, alright... I guess we do our best then."

They did. When the final scores came up, it was very fortunate that Heidi's eyes were in no state to see them. A couple of her team-mates looked up, blanched, and then returned their attention to their Captain - doing their level best to ensure that she was unable to see them.

Zip didn't really understand shit. But, from the looks on the San Cajetan team's faces, the numbers resulted in an absurd walk for them.

However, they were not out of the woods yet. The Playa coach, having advanced down off the bleachers to observe closely, stamped her foot.

"That is ridiculous!" she snapped, pointing up at the horrific scores. She swept her finger around to point at Heidi, still sitting cloaked in her comforting team-mates. "She was clearly fouled, so she deserves a second go."

Judge Fukuda blinked. "Fouled... how?"

"By... by that one's showboating over her so-called 'injury'!" the Playa Coach snarled, nodding back towards Summer - whose eyes looked as wide as they could possibly go, and whose body trembled slightly upon her bench. "Which was clearly nothing of the sort, and just a bit of drama to... to throw my star off her game!"

"I... uh..." Judge Butler said, seemingly not sure how to react to that.

Stomping her foot, the Playa Coach glared, and cut her off before she could reply.

"Regardless - she got another go, after her little failure," she said, gesturing again towards Summer. "So clearly, my pupil does as well."

"She... hadn't officially started yet," Judge Butler pointed out.

"Says you!" the Playa Coach snapped.

Suddenly, another voice spoke up into the angry adult conversation. To his slight surprise, it was Zip's.

"I wouldn't really bother with whatever excuses she can make up," he said, having stood up and come to the edge of the conversation. He nodded towards the Playa Coach, and then to Judge Morgan. "She's just trying to find any rationale possible to let her friend fudge the results, again."

Instantly, you could have heard a pin drop in the room. Behind Zip, the entire San Cajetan team sat stock still, their faces white. Coach Swan reached out, a horrified grimace on her face, as if trying to grab him and yank him back. But it was far too late, and she settled back to simply squirm in horror.

Meanwhile, all eyes and faces amongst the previous debate slowly turned and focused on Zip.

"That... that is a very serious accusation," Judge Fukuda said.

"Yes, it is!" the Playa Coach snapped. Hands on her hips, she stood indignantly - the expression on her face she was already trying to work out how to spin this impertinent interjection around to her advantage.

"He... he doesn't know anything!" Coach Swan said, in a small horrified voice, from her position trembling in the stands. "I'm sorry about this!"

"Do you have the slightest bit of proof to support your claim?" Judge Butler asked him.

Feeling all eyes on him, and his belly churning, Zip nevertheless somehow managed to keep a calm demeanor on his face and voice. Looking up at all of them, he shrugged.

"Not much," he said. He nodded towards the seething Playa Coach, standing beside him. "Just her texts."

Then, from behind his pant leg, he produced a very large phone. It was not his. It was unlocked, with a text message app open on the glowing screen. Holding it out, as far from the Playa Coach as he could but in full view of the judges, he pointed to it.

"I assume 'Alicia Morgan' is her," he said, nodding towards Judge Morgan. "Unless she knows another one," he said, nodding to the Playa Coach in turn. He pointed to the most recent text. "And I will admit, I don't know much," he said. "But it says, 'Don't worry about a thing, I'll make sure Heidi still comes out on top.' And, like, this is my second day being involved in gymnastics at all, so maybe I'm missing something. But... that seems pretty clear to me?"

Instantly, the color drained off both the Playa Coach and Judge Morgan's faces. The latter suddenly looked very very still, and seemed to want to sink into the floor. The Playa Coach trembled a moment, and then shook her head.

"Where... where did you get that phone, young man?" she finally asked, her voice in a hiss.

Zip shrugged. "You left it open on the bench back there," he said, nodding backwards. "I found it, and was going to pick it up and bring it to you... until I saw what was on it."

This was, technically, true. In the pell-mell rush down to comfort her star student, the Playa Coach had in fact left her phone open upon a bench. He neglected to mention that she had done so... on the very top bleacher. But, unfortunately for her, she had left it lying on an open Playa jacket... and well, once he had seen the unattended glowing screen, he had not been able to resist.