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“How’s our lovely student section doing tonight?” Madison shouted to the crowd, eliciting a response from nearly the whole bleacher set that made my ears ring. She had a plastic sort of smile painted on her red lips, and much like Ava and Rachel, little pawprints were trotting along her cheeks. “Everybody in the stand, let’s give our Bobcats a big hand!”
Everyone else clapped along, a sort of electric energy running through them. It skipped right over me. I might’ve tried out for cheer before, but now I cringed a little at the mere idea of wiggling pom-poms.
As the bobcats took to one side of the field and the other team, the Haven High Ravens, took to the other, one blue and gold jersey stood out against the rest. The glittering numbers caught my eye immediately. He was walking away from the bleachers, the number on his back in full view.22.
Even from here, I could finally see what everyone was talking about. Football pantsweregood. And then I wanted to kick myself for looking.
Once the game started, some of my dread ebbed away. There was something to do other than stand there—watch the players. And though it wasn’t nearly as exciting as everyone made it sound, it was interesting to see how each player would converge on the runner with the ball. Even though I had no idea what half of it meant—like how the referee kept throwing a flag into the air or what a “first down” meant—it wasn’t as boring as I’d always preached it to be.
Only one thing truly got on my nerves: the cheers.
“Y-E-L-L, everybody, yell, yell!” the squad all chorused, smashing their pom-poms together in unison. Madison’s voice stood out above the rest in this chant, her shimmery blue eyeshadow bright as she blinked. Her hair was braided in a crown too, a bit too much like mine. She was in her element, though, following a choreographed dance without missing a beat. “BHS, BHS, let’s go BHS!”
The chant went on again, this time the student section joining in with the spelling. I didn’t cheer along, but, begrudgingly, I did find myself clapping.
Ava held up her cell phone sideways seconds before half-time, snapping a pic of the whole field. “We’re so going to win tonight. I’m going to start drafting the blog post now.Bobcats Win Big.”
“They’re only six points ahead,” I told her, squinting at the scoreboard. I wasn’t sure how the scoring system actually worked in football, but I knew it was easy to catch up fast. “You think they’ll win?”
“We haven’t lost a game yet this season,” Lacey said from my other side. “Landon said that their only true competition will be Jefferson for the homecoming game.”
“Ugh.” Rachel’s lips twisted by the mere mention of the rival. “He shouldn’t worry. We’ll knock them out of the water.”
“Or off the field,” Ava quipped, thumbs speedily typing. “Maisie, you can dodge football games all you want, but it’s against Brentwood Bobcat law to skip out on homecoming. They’ll expel you if you don’t show.”
I couldn’t help but snort. “Is that a promise?”
My words caused Lacey to chuckle on the other side of me, but she tried to mask it by taking a drink of her slushy.
“Let’s give it up for our Brentwood High marching band!” the football announcer cried into the microphone, eliciting scratchy feedback that was almost as loud as his words. The crowd’s response to the band wasn’t nearly as animated as it’d been for the football players, but then again, the majority had retreated to the concession stand to stock up on popcorn and hotdogs before it closed.
The halftime performance kicked off with a bang, quite literally a slam of cymbals clamping together. The band moved onto the field in tandem with the cheerleaders, who were doing cartwheels between them.
I could spot Alex instantly, because even though the tasseled and bedazzled uniforms were all the same, the tuba was like a neon buoy bobbing in the water. Anyone else might’ve thought it was dorky, but it was sohim.
Though it was a bit shaky, the song they played was obviously the Bobcat fight song, because everyone around me clapped along to the beat.
I let myself melt into the moment, rooted on the metal bleacher. My two friends at my side, Alex on the field, the fight song ringing in my ear. Normally, I would’ve spent a night like tonight in my bedroom with only the company of homework or books. It wasn’t a bad sort of existence—because let’s be honest, I was a total couch potato—but there was no denying the slightly infectious quality of being among other happy people. Listening to the cheers, the music, watching the players—there was something energizing about it. Like learning a new math subject.
Of course, I’d never tell a soul about it.
Once the football players came out of their halftime huddle, some of them took to the field while some waited on the sidelines near the student section. Connor was one of the ones who lingered, his helmet dangling from his fingertips, his dark hair wet-looking under the lights. He stood about twenty feet away down on the grass.
A little boy ran up to him carrying a case of plastic water bottles, passing one to number 22. Connor reached his fist down as he took a drink, and the boy pounded his knuckles. The sweet interaction lasted two seconds, but it made me smile nonetheless. Connor looked at where the cheerleaders assembled briefly before roaming over all the posters and people in the student section. Half a beat later, he got to the front row, finding me.
One corner of Connor’s mouth quirked up a little, akin to his normal condescending smile but…not. More amused, more friendly. Both of his eyebrows were raised in awell, well, wellexpression.
“You’ve got this, babe!” Jade shouted to him, causing a few of the other cheerleaders to shake their pom-poms. She broke the connection entirely, because without another glance, Connor donned his helmet and turned toward the field.
Once the game was back in motion, the cheerleaders resumed hyping up the crowd, and after a big internal debate, I found myself cheering along with the crowd by the fourth quarter. Soft muttering, for sure, but it was still cheering. Maybe I needed an exorcism after this, but for now, I enjoyed it.
Tomorrow I would shake my head at how easily my mood had shifted, but in that moment, I couldn’t help but smile a tiny bit at my predicament. Two days in a row, I found myself pleasantly surprised. I didn’t know why my thoughts on all things Brentwood football was changing, but I couldn’t say I was fully upset by the prospect.
Against all odds, I was happy that I’d come tonight.
After the game ended, I waited for Alex by the closed concession stand, stirring my straw around to suck up the last drops of the slushy Lacey had convinced me to get. I hadn’t expected such a sour taste, but it had to be laced with something, given how addicting it was. As Ava had predicted, the Brentwood Bobcats demolished the Ravens in a 32-26 score. It left every Bobcat passerby beaming as they headed to their cars, waving their homemade signs happily.
Alex had only been gone five minutes—he’d been adamant that he’d take his tuba to the school himself and come back for me—and the walk back to the school with the heavy thing had to be at least ten, but the crowd had thinned considerably. I was one of the few remaining people left by the field, and though the stadium lights were on now, they wouldn’t be for long.
