The roar of the crowd as Cam crosses the goal line, ball tucked tightly under his arm, sets my teeth on edge. Shafer fans fucking love me, but I swear the noise right now is as deafening as I’ve ever heard it. Is that possible? Are they really screaming louder for the backup quarterback who just threw a dart than they do for this school’s all-time leading passer? I get it, I love an underdog, too, but come on. Beltman’s having the game of his life, but he still couldn’t carry my jockstrap.
I tug at the front of my sweatshirt a few times, trying to get some air against my hot skin. It’s cool, breezy, and overcast, but I’m out here sweating like it’s the middle of summer.
A backup quarterback stepping in for a game is supposed to leave the fans praying the star QB is healing like a champ, not speculating about whether Shafer now has two star quarterbacks. And it’s not supposed to have NFL scouts sitting up and taking notice, which, okay, I have no idea whether they are, but I wouldn’t blame them. Beltman has no right to look as good as he does.
I tug at my shirt again, and my finger brushessomething small and hard near the edge of the hood: Jade’s red earring. At the time, I didn’t know why I swiped it from her car except that it was the same exact shade of red as our team color, and I can be a little superstitious. But when I stood in front of the mirror this morning and pinned the tiny sparkling dot to my sweatshirt, hoping it would bring us luck, I knew it was more than that; I felt something for her that night. Was I a little embarrassed looking at my reflection and seeing myself wearing some girl’s earring like a lovesick little douche? Sure. But it didn’t stop me.
Cam walks off the field, grinning and breathing hard, and I go over to slap him on the back. “Way to make a play,” I tell him, then force myself to sit down on the bench. Prowling the sidelines is getting me more worked up.
Cash sits down next to me, takes his helmet off, and tries to sweep his mess of sweaty curls off his face. “What’s wrong with you?” He elbows me.
“What?”
“We got this one in the bag. Our season’s looking good.”
“I know that.”
“Then ease up. You look like you’re about to shit a brick.”
Cam, who’s posted up next to me, gives Cash a long look that goes unnoticed by our often-dense friend. Then he walks behind the bench and gives my head a little shove. “It’s all good.” Cam always gets it.
As the next play begins, I force myself to clap extra loud. I shouldn’t be acting like this. This ismyteam that just came from behind and made an incredible play to take the lead when three of our best players are sitting out with injuries. And even if Cash doesn’t understand it’s not our record that I’m freaking out over, he’s right: We’re probably winning this one, our record gets that much better, and that’s what should be important.
Beltman brings home the win with a late-game scoring drive. When he comes off the field, I congratulate him and throw on a big smile that’s only half forced; he’s on cloud nine and it’s impossible not to be happy for the dude. But it sucks going back to the locker room and waiting for my friends to shower and change while I fuck around on my phone and loiter with Lorenzo because I barely lifted a finger today and I definitely don’t need a shower.
“So how much did that suck?” Lorenzo asks me as we walk out of the building once our friends are dressed.
“I don’t know how you do it week after week, man,” I tell him. “That was brutal. How do you not go nuts?”
Lorenzo smirks. “I have a hot girlfriend, that’s how.”
“Yeah, talk about the opposite of what I need.”
“You’ll be back in next week—the week after at the most. It happens all the time,” Lorenzo says.
Cam stops us in the breezeway that connects the football facility to the rest of the athletics buildings. “Let me say hi to Lenni real quick.”
I lean up against a brick pillar. “It doesn’t happen all the time to me. I need to be better than that.”
The thoughts start rushing through my head. What if I’m not in next week? What if I am and I play like shit? What if I’ve played my last football game and I don’t even know it? It doesn’t matter how slim the odds, just the thought makes me nauseated.
Then I look up and there’s Jade turning the corner with Lenni, and all thoughts of football come to a grinding halt. I straighten up. The feeling that moves through me is impossible to name, but I know it well because it’s taken over me every time I’ve seen Jade since the night I kissed her.
“You are better,” Lorenzo says, but I don’t remember or care what he’s referring to.
“Yeah.”
Jade flicks her gaze from Lenni to Cam as the happy couple hugs, then to Cash, then Lorenzo. I watch her green eyes take in the tattoos decorating Lorenzo’s forearms—does she like tattoos on guys? Then, finally, taking her time because this girl knowsexactlyhow to play the game, she looks at me. Her gaze softens, hooking me right in.
“Was that you girls I heard screaming for us in the stands all game long?” Cash asks, and I want to kill him and his stupid question when Jade breaks eye contact to look at him.
“Yes, but we weren’t screaming for you; we were trying to get the cameraperson to put us on the kiss cam,” she teases him. But then she looks back at me, and the little smile that appears on her hot-pink lips tells me she’s trying not to smile but can’t help herself.
Unlike Lenni, who’s sporting Cam’s jersey, Jade has refused to don any Shafer gear, but the ends of her hair are dip-dyed bright red, and I want to think she did that for us. Or me.
Cam glances back at me, making me realize I’m smiling, and I know right then he sees the way Jade and I are looking at each other. Lucky for me, Lenni takes his hands and puts them on her waist and reaches up to kiss him, which means he’s not thinking about me anymore.
Jade watches them kiss, then her eyes move to me, a hint of shyness in them. Or at least as close to shy as Jade gets. She opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, but her gaze catches on my neck. I know by the way she smiles what she’s looking at. I’m busted—and I like it because that smile of hers is irresistible.
