I’m at the field ten minutes before six. It helps that we just finished practice thirty minutes ago, so I was already here. But regardless, there’s no way I’m screwing this up twice.
Lacey is on the sidelines where the cheerleaders stand during games as I walk up. She’s in her uniform, but she has a zip-up jacket on over it.
Her face sparkles as I get closer. Glitter dots her cheekbones on the right side. Written in blue are the lettersFLHabove our Knights logo.
“You’re early,” she says as she attempts to drag a large duffel.
“Better than late, right?” I drop my backpack and move to help her. “Where do you want it?”
“Just over there.” She points to the side of the bleachers, and I carry the heavy bag.
“What’s in this?”
“Extra uniforms and pom-poms in case anyone forgets something, air cannons, a bunch of shirts to toss in the crowd, stuff like that.”
After I set the bag down, I glance around. She’s the only one here, but the cheerleaders’ section is all set up, complete with the signs they make for every home game. They are stacked up, but I can tell there are a bunch. The top one says,It’s a great day to be a Knight!
“Where’s everyone else?”
“A few of the girls are in the locker room getting ready. The others will be here soon.” She picks up the sign from the top of the stack and moves toward the fence. She starts taping it to the metal pole. “You can grab another one if you want.”
Nodding, I do, and I follow behind her as we decorate the fence line around the field in glittery signs. She’s back to giving me the silent treatment, but she’s agreed to help me, so I guess that’s all that matters.
By the time we’ve finished, the squad is here, along with the band director, who prepares for the half-time performance of our marching band, and the opposing team’s bus has arrived.
“Thank you,” Lacey says when we’re finished.
More people are starting to file in. The concession stand window opens and parents of players take their seats in the bleachers.
“Grab a seat in the front row at the end.” She nods toward the spot just behind where the cheerleaders are gathered. “I’ll come up as soon as I make sure the squad is good to go.”
“Okay.” Any hesitation I have about this is too little, too late. I need her help, and if it means getting tutored at a football game, then I guess that’s what it takes.
I pull out my notebook and the study guide she made for me. I’m reviewing the first section when Lacey finally takes a seat next to me.
“Sorry,” she says, sitting close enough that her sweet floral scent wraps around me. “Someone lost a bow, our mascot can’t find his head, and my best spotter has a wrist sprain.”
She leans over my books and stares down to see where I’m at with algebra. But I’m distracted by the freckles on her face. They’re barely distinguishable from the glitter and span out from her nose on either side. She purses her lips. They’re coated with some shiny lip gloss tonight and a strand of hair from her ponytail is stuck to the corner.
Without thinking, I reach forward and brush the pads of my fingers on the side of her face to pull it free. Lacey glances up, confusion mixed with surprise.
Well, shit. This is awkward. I clear my throat, but it’s still gruff as I speak.
“Sorry. You had a hair stuck.” I wave my hand around the side of my mouth.
“That happens,” she says, running a hand down the length of her ponytail. “So, what do you think?”
“I think maybe you should not wear lip gloss then.”
She laughs. “I meant about the problem you’re working on.”
“Right.” I force my gaze back down to the paper, but even as she talks me through it, I can’t help but sneak glances at her mouth. When she smiles, she gets this tiny little dimple in her right cheek.
Lacey’s a gorgeous girl. I’ve always known that. It’s just a fact, like she’s a cheerleader or she drives a Bronco. Lacey is hot.
I’ve never felt the need to stare at her before, though, so why can’t I stop staring at her now?
* * *
