Page 71 of The Cheerleader

Carol grins big. “Between five hundred and a thousand dollars.”

Everyone shrieks, and I beep the horn by accident.

“I’m in too,” I say. “I don’t care how much spilled beer I have to mop up.”

Josh blows out a whistle. “Let’s make sure we get record-breaking attendance at this one. We should put up flyers advertising that the cheerleaders are sponsoring the event.”

“You think that will matter?” I say, appropriately skeptical.

“You bet your ass—sorry—I mean sweet ass.”

We laugh and I finally see the signs for UNH.

We jump from the car with our things and run, arriving at the game about halfway through the second quarter. Thank god at least we’re winning.

The four cheerleaders who managed without us greet us with open arms, concern, and a million questions. Liz gives them a quick version of what happened.

“Some UConn alumni who were impressed with our mini tramp stunt last week came up to us and asked why there were only a few of us. I told them you were on the way and must have had car trouble or something.”

At halftime, after we do our routine, several people ask what happened, and Judy tells the whole story about the police while Liz glares at her, and I want to hide. At least she didn’t mention that we switched places.

I’m mortified at the number of people who now know about the speeding ticket. But we put our hearts and souls into cheering the second half of the game as I try to set aside my worry about the fine.

As the game ends, perfect strangers, mostly older alumni, come up to us, saying how they heard about our car problems and let us know how sorry they are about what happened and are glad we’re okay.

Carol flags down her roommate and a friend who drove to the game and explains the situation. They agree to give her, Judy, and Sherry a ride back to campus.

Glancing at the team’s bench where the players mingle with fans, family, and media, smiling and happy, I look for Bryan. He played even better today than he did last week since his ribs have healed, according to Liz. Josh tells me running for over 120 yards is remarkable, even though he got only one touchdown.

I spot Bryan drinking water and stare a few seconds for no good reason. His uniform is stained with grass and dirt, his hair disheveled, and he has those black marks smeared across his cheeks. But he looks like a powerful dark-haired Adonis to me, statuesque with bulging muscles as he turns toward the reporter who approaches him.

“There’s Bryan,” Liz smiles when she sees me looking his way. My face heats up, and I glance away. “I’m going to see what he’s up to after the game.” Before I say anything, she trots in his direction but stops to talk to a couple of other guys on the way.

Beat, with every last ounce of adrenaline I had used up on the events of this day, I turn and pick up my pom-poms and megaphone and walk with Josh toward the parking lot. Sherry joins us, and finally, Liz catches up to us as we reach the car for the drive home.

“I promise I’ll take it slow,” Liz says.

When we finally get home, the last thing I want to do is go out and celebrate. After my shower, I dress in PJs and a robe and flop onto my bed. When Liz comes in from her shower and sees me, her eyes pop.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to the party at Fletcher’s place?”

“No parties for me tonight. I’m exhausted.”

“I know what you mean.” She sits on the side of my bed. “You know how much I appreciate what you did for me today. I owe you so much for that. You’re such a wonderful friend, Susie. I love you.” She leans forward and gives me a hug, and I see the brightness of tears in her eyes and feel a little prick of sentiment in mine, but I shake it off as I hug her back.

“I know, Liz. You’ve always been a good friend to me, so it’s the least I can do.” I smile, and she rolls her eyes, unconvinced as she sniffles. “Hey, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be a cheerleader having all these fun experiences right now.”

She snorts a laugh and stands, seeming to shake it off.

“Are you sure you’re not coming? You might get a second wind.”

“I’m sure.” I bite my tongue before I ask her if Bryan’s going to be there. He probably won’t be. But so what if he is?

I’ll see him Tuesday in class and after dinner for our tutoring session anyway.

“I hope Bryan will go. He wouldn’t commit when I asked him. But I’m thinking maybe I’ll go visit him—check up on him later—if he doesn’t show up.”

I bite my tongue again before I ask her if that’s wise after the last time she dropped in for an unannounced visit and he sent her home.