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“Huh?”
“Cullen was kind of annoyed when some of the kids laughed. He wasn’t putting up with that kind of nonsense.”
My heart surged. I’d thought Cullen was going to complain about my incompetence but hearing he’d defended me, a shivery feeling came over me. Not to mention, the memory of his arm around my waist.
Gah, dreaming about Cullen Mercer was a lesson in futility. On so many levels, it was just plain wrong. Firstly, because he was my brother’s friend, second, he was a senior and I was a lowly junior. Third, because he was popular and dated cheerleaders. And fourth, because I’d known him most of my life.
Yes, there was no merit—at all—in crushing on Cullen Mercer.
Chapter 2
Cullen
The victory over LakeView Academy had the stadium cheering like we’d never heard before. Since our Homecoming win over River Valley High, the crowds had increased every week, our supporter base growing.
People loved winners.
That’s what Dad, our football team’s coach was fond of saying. Very fond of saying. The more we won, the more we would be loved, revered even. We all had the potential to be hometown heroes. That is, if we kept our eye on the prize and made it to the state championship this season.
Tennessee Jackson, our star wide receiver had scored three touchdowns. I was pleased for him—his hands made me look good. And not only was he named offensive MVP, but he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask Millie Conway, the Chargers’ team reporter out on a date.
There was no way I was going to miss that.
It was a Covington Prep tradition that after a game we dressed back into our formal uniform to leave the grounds. It was such a waste of time, meaning we then went home to change before going out.
“You want me to come and pick you up?” Sawyer asked as we lingered behind. As captain, I liked to make sure everyone was done, the last out of the changing room.
“Uh, sure,” I said, but in the next moment the loud clanking of the cart came rumbling down the hallway, with Sierra, Sawyer’s younger sister pulling it. With her long brown ponytail swinging through the back of her cap, she limped along. “Hey, Sierra, you shouldn’t be pulling that.”
I brushed past Sawyer and jogged to catch her up. Sierra had sprained her ankle the other day in training, and I’d noticed she’d been struggling all game. I didn’t know why Dad had let her onto the sideline.
Sierra ploughed forward as if she hadn’t heard me. “Sierra? Hold up.”
Sawyer caught me up, nudging my shoulder. “You know she’s stubborn. Leave her, bro.”
I rolled my eyes, ignoring him. Yeah, Sierra was stubborn, always had been, sassy too. Her work ethic couldn’t be faulted. I’d told Sawyer to tell her to take the rest of the week off, wait till her foot healed but she’d been back the next day, her ankle taped up, insisting she was okay. My admiration had grown, yet there was no reason to be surprised; Sierra was always on duty, rain, snow or shine, every single training for the past two years.
