He pulled his lips from the bottle and sneered maliciously at a group of girls who returned the glare with cackling greetings.
Poppy and Amelia headed toward the bleachers, drawing my attention.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t end like it usually does,” Poppy let slip as she went to retrieve a bottle.
“Why, what usually happens?” I asked inquisitively.
“Hunter and Hood beating each other up.”
“How come? Aren’t they teammates?”
Poppy was clearly the group’s loudmouth. If she didn’t tell me, who would?
“We gotta go, June. I recommend cheering for us,” Amelia interjected, dragging her friend with her.
Instinct told me Amelia had something to do with all this. Should I mind my own business? Absolutely. Was I planning on it? Absolutely not.
The first half went quickly, and Amelia came up to me at halftime. She was almost speechless.
“Don’t lose your voice,” I teased. I threw her a water bottle, and she winked at me.
“You wanna know what I think, June?”
Even though that made me happy, the statement weirded me out. “Tell me.”
“You think you’re better than others,” she said from the top of her perfect body.
“What do you mean ?” I replied, embarrassed.
“I see how you look down on us. You think we’re ditzes who like to show our asses.”
“Can you convince me otherwise?” I asked. Obviously I didn’t have anything against cheerleaders, but dressing like that and cheering for a bunch of sweaty guys who were killing themselves to catch a ball definitely didn’t do anything for me.
“Let me convince you otherwise,” she challenged. “Come to practice and try it out. You’ll see that it’s harder than it looks.”
>> <<
After the game the guys went to the locker room while I looked in confusion at the scoreboard. If it wasn’t for the block letters on the board, I’d never have figured out who’d won.
“Come here, June!” called Ari as she saw me stop between the first few rows.
“Since when do the water girls come with us,” Taylor said sharply as we headed toward the school lawn.
“Feeling threatened?” quipped Amelia, with an air of satisfaction.
“Why should I be afraid of a pair of stumpy legs?” Taylor shot me a disdainful look.
“Because they’re short, but they can easily kick your ass,” I exclaimed.
I heard a chuckle behind us. The football players had just gotten out of the locker room, and one of them laughed. A tall, blond, well-built one. Jackson. I examined his athletic frame. His height. His straw-colored hair. The piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip. Now I was sure of it. He was definitely the guy I’d seen in the parking lot.
I wondered what he was doing with Blaze, since they hated each other.
“Okay, it’s official. I feel sick,” Tiffany exclaimed, fanning her face with her hand. After that, she leaned her elbow against the locker room outside wall.
“You okay?” I asked worriedly, noticing how pale she was. “Do you want to lie down?”
“No. I don’t feel too good,” she said again seriously, staring at a fixed point.
