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What was I doing? Rambling, that’s what I was doing. And my mom could see right through it. Suspicion had already clouded her eyes. She peered into my mask and frowned.
“Okay, Audrey. Give it up. What are you trying to hide?”
I sighed and threw my chin up. No point in trying to hide it anymore. Grabbing her arm, I pulled her behind me until we were under the stands and away from prying eyes. Taking off my mascot head and setting it on the ground, I breathed in the fresh air and let my lungs clear.
“Dad’s here,” I said, making a face at her. “I was going t
o get him to leave before you saw him.”
“Why would you do that?” Mom drew back her chin. “I was the one who invited him. He wanted to see you perform.”
My jaw dropped to my chest. What had she been thinking? How could she be okay with that? I sputtered out a reply, feeling utterly unable to control my tongue.
“B-b-but why would you do that?”
“Because he’s still your father,” she said firmly, her jaw tightening. “And this has gone on long enough. You two used to be so close. I don’t want you to lose that.”
I wrapped my arms around my stomach and huffed. She didn’t get to say when enough was enough. I was old enough to make up my own mind.
She placed a hand on my arm and her gaze softened. “Audrey, I know you’re still mad at him, and that’s okay. But you don’t get to completely cut him out of your life. In time, I think you’ll be grateful that you didn’t.”
There was no use arguing. Not when Savannah could come prowling around the corner any minute now, snarling and snapping at me for leaving the field during the middle of a routine. So I picked up my mascot head and sucked in my cheeks.
“Fine. He can watch, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to talk to him. Or even acknowledge his existence.”
Mom nodded. “That’s fine. Baby steps.”
More like inch worm steps.
“Go, get out there.” Mom swatted me gently on the shoulder. “After I get that hotdog, I want to see what that boy of yours can do on the field.”
I moaned. “Mom, he’s not my boy.”
“Right. Keep telling yourself that.” She winked and walked away.
Mom might have thought she was helping, but her words only made me hurt. Collin wasn’t my boy. He definitely wasn’t my boyfriend. There was a huge gulf between us. An impassable one that would never be breached, despite my growing feelings for him.
He’d texted me last night after his dinner at Applebee’s with his dad. Said he had something he needed to tell me after the game. In person. My head had been reeling after that text, but I wouldn’t let myself hope that things had changed. It was too much to wish for. But maybe, just maybe, what he wanted to tell me was something amazing.
I walked back onto the field, feeling too low to even wave at the audience. My fellow cheerleaders were taking a break just below the stadium to watch the game. I joined them and scanned the field for Collin. He stood in a huddle near the opposing team’s forty yard line. We’d just taken possession of the ball.
The Warren High Titans’ defensive line was already in place at the line of scrimmage. They were big guys. So big, that I swore they should’ve been in college already. One in particular, number 58, looked like he ate a bucket of protein powder for breakfast every day. His arms were massive, his thighs like tree trunks. He hammered his fist on his helmet, growling at the Rock Valley guys as they took their positions. I gulped, dread entering my veins. Collin wasn’t small by any means, but this guy made him look puny. I could only hope that he was as slow as molasses.
“Don’t you dare think you can leave without my permission again,” Savannah charged at me, hissing through her pasted-on smile for the crowd behind us. “Next time, there will be consequences.”
“Right.” I rolled my eyes, although she couldn’t see it through my helmet. I’d just about had it with her attitude. Collin was right, Savannah needed to come down a peg or two. She didn’t get to control me — not anymore. And she certainly didn’t scare me.
The only consequences I cared about were the ones that affected my mom. I glanced over my shoulder at the stands. She’d purchased her hotdog and was sitting on one side of Lexi, Dad on the other. By all outward appearances, they were the perfect family. Dad had worn his Rock Valley High sweatshirt that Mom had bought him four years ago. He was sipping on a Coke, eyeing the play on the field. It was as if the last year had never happened. Like I’d entered another timeline.
If Mom was comfortable enough to sit next to Dad in the stands, what did that mean for me? Was it time to start the healing process? I couldn’t be sure. A big part of me was still so angry at him. I hated him. But I loved him, too. He was my dad. That would never change. Just like Collin had said yesterday, he was my blood. He wasn’t perfect, but at the very least, he’d always been around when I needed him.
I wanted so desperately to talk this through with Collin. To know what he’d say about it. My gaze trailed back to the field, where we were now third and five. Thirty yards from the end zone. Collin had just called a play, his receivers shifting on the line. And when he hiked the ball, a frenzy of activity took place as each team moved forward.
Reaching up to my tiptoes, I cheered and screamed. One of our receivers had broken free from the defense and was sprinting toward the end zone. Collin wound up, his bicep bulging as he threw with all of his might. The ball sailed through the air in a perfect spiral. My blood pressure spiked as it came down, landing right in the receiver’s outstretched arm.
He’d done it! It was a perfect pass. No wonder Collin was the starting quarterback. He was amazing.
But as I grinned back at Collin, I cried out in horror. Number 58 on the Titans was still hurdling forward, his massive form headed straight toward defenseless Collin. And when 58 smacked into him, it made a noise so loud that everyone in the stands could hear it. Collin went down hard. He lay still on the grass, his body limp.
