Page 108 of The Cheerleader

“We have no game next week,” I say. Yardly is saying something. It’s not like me to talk in class since I’m not a talker.

That must be why Susie stares at me like I showed up naked. There’s some hunger mingling with her surprise. And hope. Always hope. Shit.

Clearing my throat, I add, “The last game is the week after that.”

Compassion fills her eyes, paralyzing me with horror because I feel more bare than if I were naked, like I’ve shown her my underbelly and handed her a knife.

She nods. “This season has gone by so fast.” She hesitates. “It’s your last season.”

Bull’s-eye. The words carve a chunk of my gut out, and I hold my breath like I can wait out the excruciating pain, as if it’ll go away in a minute, like after getting hit by a linebacker.

She stares, blinks, and when I don’t speak, she fills in, rushing her words. “Then there’s Thanksgiving weekend, and basketball season starts. I bet we end with a 9-1 record if you win the next game⁠—”

Her babbling soothes me for no good reason, and I take a deep breath. “There’s a big party at Fletcher’s cottage this week⁠—”

“He lives in Coventry, doesn’t he?” She’s not done babbling softly as Yardly drones on, glancing in our direction. I’m aware of my surroundings now and of what I’m about to do, and she is too, and she’s stalling me.

“I think he lives there with three other guys from the team. According to Liz, Fletcher is Dane’s party pal…” she keeps going, and I let her. She’s right about Fletcher and Dane since I’ve succeeded in resisting Dane’s attempts to drag me out.

“I’m assuming you’re going to Fletcher’s party?” She finally stops, stares at me with the gold flecks in her eyes, and I keep a grip on myself and reality while I stare back. I can’t ask her to go with me, as if it’s a date.

“Yes.” It’s all I say, and I know she knows there’s more underneath the one word because she smiles so brilliantly, like she’s full of joy and can’t hold it in.

“They’ll have food, and I need to eat,” I add, knowing the excuse will dampen her pleasure. I feel mean as the golden sparks in her hazel eyes die down to ordinary specks.

But it’s not all about keeping Susie’s hopes in check. Next to her, my second obsession is with food. I don’t know when the order of importance changed, but I need good food, and it’s damn expensive in the off-season without the team food allowance.

“You should be a dorm waiter. They eat for free all the time. We have waiters at our dorm.”

I nod.

“I’ve thought about it.” I’m desperate enough to save on food money to consider asking Liz to recommend me for next semester. What’s stopping me is that I’d see her every day, and I have mixed feelings about that.

It would also mean I’d see Susie every day, and my feelings about that are all over the place.

Susie’s listening to Yardly and writing something down. I should be paying attention too, but I keep watching Susie in my peripheral vision and a glance here and there. My obsession is making me pathetic.

When Yardly has her T.A. pass around a handout, Susie turns to me again.

She looks like she’s determined to jump off a cliff. “You know, I think there might be an opening for a waiter at our dorm, starting right away,” Susie says. I hear the trepidation and hope side by side in her voice, and my chest tightens against the thump of my heart, trying to keep it in place, keep it from beating out of my chest.

I nod, keeping my eyes on her, waiting for her to go on.

“One of the guys has a project that he has to finish for the end of the semester, and he can’t come to campus every day.”

I stare at her as she waits for me to respond, her eyes looking more hopeful even though she thinks she’s hiding it. I see right through her. She wants something from me, and I’m pretty sure it’s the kind of thing I can’t give her—or any girl. I’m no romantic. Not even a little bit.

“I can recommend you if you want.” Her face flushes pink because she knows what that implies. Maybe she wants to see me every day. Maybe she can deal with the awkwardness of Liz seeing me every day too, of all three of us sharing space, being around each other at the same time.

But fuck, I’m not sure if I could stand it.

I nod as the T.A. stops at our row, the last row, and hands us each a stapled sheaf of papers. It’s the final exam preparation, our last paper. Shit.

Turning back to Susie, I nod. “Recommend me.” Food on the table is important.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Susie