"Bring the girls," someone else laughs, glancing at the cheerleaders already glued to half the team.
The guys all start hyping it up—talking about keg stands, blasting music, "first win of the season, boys!"—the usual.
And Zach?
Still has Cici hanging off his arm like a leech, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger like she thinks it's some kind of siren call.
He keeps trying to peel her off—shaking his shoulder, shifting his arm—but geez, she's like gum stuck to a shoe. The more he pulls, the more she clings.
I roll my eyes so hard I nearly sprain them. Cici has this idea that because she's cheer captain and Zach's hockey captain, the universe destined them to be Everglades High'sitcouple. As if titles make her his girlfriend.
Please!
I huff, crossing my arms. My inner sass-monster wants to scream: that title is mine. Technically, it already is. I'm Zach'sgirl-friend.
Okay, fine—I'm a girl and a friend.Big deal.
But we both know how this ends. Sooner or later, those two words will crash together. It's inevitable.
Tyler's rambling to him again about Jacob's party. I silently groan.Any day now, Westbrook. I'm literally right here.
Zach looks like he's only half alive—his eyes are darting, scanning the crowd like he's searching for air in a suffocating room.
And then—bam—his eyes catch mine. Silver, but not ordinary silver. No, these were molten galaxies, spun from stardust and lightning, shimmering like they'd been carved by gods too bored with perfection.
His whole face lights up, relief flooding in as if he's just spotted the one person he's been dying to see.
"Sugarplum!" His voice is all warmth and affection, and finally—finally—he shakes Cici's claws off and cuts straight past his teammates.
His eyes hit me so hard I swear I blacked out for a millisecond. Everything else went fuzzy, like someone pressed the background blur filter, and suddenly it was just him—those laser-beam orbs hijacking my nervous system like I'd been hardwired to him.
My lungs clocked out. My heart staged a riot.
Those eyes weren't just looking at me—they were claiming me, dazzling me straight into oblivion.
So much so, I didn't even register he'd moved. Not a step, not a shift—nothing. One second he was across the hall, the next...
"There you are," he breathes, right in front of me now.
I nearly choke.
Damn those stupid, unfair, hypnotic eyes. Always doing this—turning me into a glitching robot every time he looks at me.
"Hey," I perk up the second his shadow falls over me, way too fast, like one of those pathetic puppies that nearly break their necks racing to the door when their owner comes home. That's me, every damn time Zach shows up.
Subtle? Absolutely not. I might as well have a neon sign blinkinghopelessly in loveacross my forehead.
"Where's Mom and Sam? And your mom? Weren't we supposed to go to Giuseppe's together?"
"About that... uh, they had to head home right away."
"Why?" His voice dips with the slightest tinge of disappointment, but I catch it.
"Sam wasn't feeling so good right before the game ended," I say, concern lacing every word. "I think her fever spiked up again."
Sam had been running hot two nights ago, but nothing—nothing—was going to keep her from her brother's game. She would've crawled in on her hands and knees if she had to. Missing Zach's first game of the season just wasn't an option in her mind.
He could be playing in a backyard scrimmage and she'd still act like it was the Stanley Cup finals. That's just how she is about him—he takes the ice, she's there, no excuses. Always.
