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I scanned the sidelines for the cheer team like a predator. I played better with El watching me. All the guys on the team knew better than to say anything about her body or how she looked in her uniform. I schooled them all about talking smack and objectifying the cheer team. They claimed it was tradition and I reminded them it was also tradition for Montgomerys to fuck up anyone who fumbled, but I was willing to look past that if they’d shut their faces about the girls’ asses. So far it worked out, my knuckles were intact along with the girls’ dignity. They’re out here doing a job, too. Who knows, maybe I’d feel differently if El weren’t on the team.
Ellison bounded out doing flips and cartwheels, I can’t get over her in a short skirt and high ponytail. She waved at me and blew me a kiss. When I catch it, I could finally put my helmet on and concentrate on the game, counting down the minutes until she’s in my arms again. My whole life up until I met El was a vision of getting the hell out of this town, maybe changing my name, maybe even taking my mom, if she were willing to go. Now I didn’t care if I never left South Vale, I would tolerate my dad and the club if it’s where she wants to be. I’d keep my kids the hell away from their grandfather, but they could see my mom though.
“Monty! Head in the game,” coach screamed. He blew his whistle and it pulled me back to my team.
When the girls came out for the half-time show, I sat on the bench and squirted cold water onto my head, taking in the cheerleaders with a stupid grin on my face. Ellison managed to do her routine without ever taking her eyes off of me. It’s sexy as hell that she could maintain our connection while she danced. When the gig was up, she leaped down from the human pyramid and ran down the sideline to come and kiss me. The crowd ate it up when she lept into my arms, but my boys on the team gave me shit.
“Calvin’s so whipped, I could put him on pie,” Hurston digs. I leaned forward with my elbows on knees, legs spread wide, grin plastered on my face.
“Dude, you’re in chains,” Todd told me. He shook his head while I poured more water from my squeeze bottle onto mine to cool off. “‘Supposed to be sowing your wild oats junior year. You’re practically married at seventeen, ya fucking pussy.”
I could clock Todd in the face, but I was in too good of a mood. South Vale was up by two and Ellison was the cutest cheerleader I’d ever seen, and she loved me, not one of those rich, spoiled losers who could probably offer her a whole lot more than I could. Yet she’s all mine and it made me feel like the hero I could never be when I was young. I couldn’t protect my mother from my dad’s angry fists, his demeaning comments, his flagrant disrespect, but I could protect Ellison from him and I fully intend to.
We smeared Mountview twenty-five to nineteen. I scored two touchdowns, one on the thirty-yard line. Ellison was in my arms the minute the game was called. She slammed into me with the force of a linebacker.
“You were a-mazing, Cal! And I get to go home with you!” Her smile was so genuine and giddy that it made her seem younger than her seventeen years. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek.
“Let me hit the shower, babe. I’ll meet you in the parking lot. Don’t walk out alone, take one of your girls with you.”
“Are we gonna celebrate?”
I picked her up, legs wrapped around my waist, forehead pressed into mine.
“We’re gonna do whatever makes you happiest.”
She kissed me like I mattered, like I was a necessary vital sign.
In her arms, I became a true champion.
Chapter 19
ELLISON
Cal treated me to a banana split at the diner after the game. He ate two cheeseburgers, fries and onion rings accompanied by a chocolate milkshake.
“I guess you burn more calories than I do,” I said between bites of vanilla ice cream smothered in hot fudge.
“I’m only letting you have ice cream for dinner because I can’t believe you’ve never eaten one of those.”
“I always order mint chocolate chip on a cone. Predictable, I guess.” I shrugged and licked the spoon.
“Perfect, I’d say, at the risk of sounding corny. Do we need to stop at your house first?”
“Nope. I’ve been packed for weeks. I’ve got everything in my bag in the car.”
Another text popped up from my dad. I wanted to silence my phone, but I knew he’s nervous and I hated to see him suffer.
