Her laughter tinkles like a bell around us. “I could get us matching ones. Yours could sayI heart cheerleading.”
“Don’t think I wouldn’t wear the hell out of a shirt with your name on it.”
“I’d like to see that.”
I lean forward to press my lips to hers.
“No PDA in the hallway,” one of the teachers calls from somewhere.
I groan but pull back.
I side-eye Dr. Frievalt, who doesn’t look like he feels bad at all for interrupting me mid-kiss. The morning bell rings, so my irritation fades away with the need to get to class.
“To be continued later,” Lacey says, stepping back to her locker. “Will I see you at lunch?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m cutting out after third period to help my dad get the field set up.”
“Okay.” A flash of disappointment crosses her face.
We both need to get going, but I don’t want to leave her yet.
“I’ll see you tonight.” Her smile brightens. “Good luck!”
Lacey looks away first, turning to grab her things for first period and then shutting her locker. I’m still staring at her when she glances back. Her smile widens. Someone bumps into her while she’s not looking, and she flushes, apologizes, then gives me one last look before leaving for real.
I head back to my locker to get my things. As I approach it, another smile stretches across my face. Taped to the front is a protein bar, just like the one I gave her, except with a little blue bow stuck to the top.
* * *
The first two periods of the day drag by. I can’t concentrate on anything except the game tonight. When second period is finally over, I shoot out of my seat. Dad doesn’t say anything when I show up twenty minutes earlier than the rest of the team.
I follow him out to the field. We inspect every inch, each starting at opposite sides and meeting in the middle. We fill holes and low areas, then Dad gets the line marker out. I check the nets and pull out balls for warm-ups.
When my teammates arrive, there’s a new hum of energy in the air. We joke and laugh, but the second Dad yells out an instruction, we snap to attention.
For lunch, Dad orders food, and we pile in the libraryto watch game videos one last time.
After Dad dismisses us to get changed, the first hint of nerves work their way in.
“You ready to do this?” Rowan asks me, holding up his right arm in front of him. He’s bouncing with excitement and smiling so big I bet his face hurts.
“Definitely.” I tap my fist against his, and he heads off at a jog.
Austin has gone quieter as the hour to suit up has grown closer.
“You good?” I ask him as I fall back to walk beside him.
He glances up like he was in a haze that kept him from seeing anyone else. “Yeah. Good. Nervous. Excited. Might throw up.”
A rough laugh rumbles in my chest. “Just any other game, Keller.”
“Yeah. Right.” He glances around the hallway. “This doesn’t feel like any other game.”
I do the same perusal. I saw all the decorations earlier, of course, but as I look again, I have to agree. The cheerleaders went all out. And by cheerleaders, I mean Lacey did. Maybe she would have even if it weren’t for me, but I’d like to think it was at least in part because of me.
“It will. It might take a few minutes into the game to settle in, but I promise, at some point, muscle memory and the familiarity of it all will take over.”
His expression brightens the tiniest bit, then a real smile tugs at his lips. “That almost sounded optimistic. I think Lacey is rubbing off on you.”
