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“Yeah. Why?” I gave her an innocent look.
She scrunched her nose at me. “I worry is all. Why don’t you come to the game and get out of the house? Anderson is playing, and you can root for him.” Teagan tilted her head, her doe eyes pleading with me.
“No thanks. I have to keep my grade-point average up so I don’t lose my scholarship.” I sipped on the steaming mug of coffee in my hand. Truthfully, I loved having the place to myself on a Saturday or the entire weekend while the girls were at a game.
“This is going to be a tight game,” Leighton said as she approached us on the patio from the kitchen.
“Yeah, the other team is undefeated too,” Teagan agreed.
“Do you know why we love to be cheerleaders, Phoebe?” Leighton pulled up a patio chair and sat next to me.
“Why?”
“Because it’s all balls and tight ends.” She sunk her teeth into her lower lip and giggled.
“You can see it all from where we stand.” Teagan shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. “Come to the game today. When it’s over, meet us on the sidelines and we’ll point out some of the guys to you. Most of them will be at the after-party as well, but use the guys for your study time instead of a book.”
“That’s a great idea! Then you can be selective about who you want to talk to tonight and have an opening line about seeing them on the field.” Leighton’s eyes brightened.
“I love you all for thinking about me, but you can point them out and tell me who is who at the party. I don’t need to sit in the stands for hours,” I pointed out to them.
Teagan released a defeated sigh. “Fine. Then we will see you at the party.” Teagan stood. “If you change your mind, shoot me a text so that when the game is over, you can meet me on the sidelines. We can all get ready for the party together.”
“I won’t change my mind. I’ll meet you here to get ready.” Sometimes, I was stubborn, but I couldn’t sit in the stands alone. Regardless of what the girls said, I couldn’t force myself to go. It was a reminder of my stepbrother when he played in junior high, and it broke my heart every time I caught a glimpse of a game.
Leighton perched her hand on her hip. “Kane Cooper is the quarterback. He’s new this year and the cheerleaders and fans are watching his every move.” She grinned. “And when I say every move, I mean exactly that. He’s at most of the after-parties, so check him out in jeans and a T-shirt next time. Just make sure you catch the drool before it lands on your top. Try explaining that to everyone.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Oh, and Quinn Astor is a running back. He has some dance moves that will make a kitty wet. I would happily take Quinn and Kane for a ride . . . at the same time.” Teagan fanned herself.
“You do realize that just because you’re telling me about them doesn’t mean I’ll know who they are at the party, right?”
The girls giggled. “We get a little excited about helping you hook up.” Teagan squeezed my shoulder. “We gotta go.”
“I hope they win,” I added as they opened the slider and returned to the house, leaving me alone with my own thoughts.
* * *
The day dragged its feet, and as hard as I tried to focus on the assignments in women’s studies, I couldn’t. It was unusual that I couldn’t escape in a book, even a schoolbook, but my brain bounced from the Black Mamba and the society to Anderson to Peter. Unable to calm my anxiety, I collected my books and headed into the house. Maybe a shower would clear my head.
Stomping up the stairs just to break the overbearing silence, I reached my room. My iPhone sat on the middle of my bed, and I scooped it up, not expecting to see any messages.
Unknown:
This is Anderson. Teagan gave me your number. She mentioned you might meet her on the sidelines after the game. You should.
I squinted at the screen. Why would Teagan hand out my number without my permission? She was starting to get pushy. Fine, if she was going to be like that, I would meet her there but chew her out for not asking me first.
Me:
For you, I’ll be there.
When I arrived, the players walked off the field quietly. From the score on the scoreboard, they should have been celebrating the win, but they were somber. I found myself walking down the track, watching for Anderson. Teagan could wait. I tugged my Whitmore jacket tighter around me. I should have worn a sweater instead of a blue long-sleeved shirt. I was freezing.
Anderson strolled in my direction and removed his helmet. A group of players caught up to talk to him, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Someone grabbed Anderson’s arm and spun him around, but I couldn’t see who it was since Anderson was blocking the view. Regardless of whether Anderson and the team barely won or won by a hundred points, I wanted to congratulate him. Even if I weren’t a cheerleader, I could help keep his spirts up. I nibbled on my lower lip. I might want to keep something else up, too.
“Got it.” His voice floated through the air, then he faced me again.
