“I want new siblings,” I mutter and swipe my bag off the bench to head to the showers as the Hogs and the Hillcats stare each other down like assholes.
“Wait, which one is it?” I ask Kaia as I dig in the trunk of her Impala. She brought a duffel bag of face paint and neon body spray after swiping the keys to the field panel off the coach's desk.
“Yeah, that one, it’s like a purple color,” she says, tying her cleat. Cosy yawns beside me, and Sunday shoves the bottle of cinnamon whiskey toward her.
“Wake up,” she demands, and Cosy takes a swig.
“I’m only here because someone promised me I could assault Loveday,” she says with heavy eyes.
“Not half asleep, you can’t,” Sunday laughs. “Another,” she says, pushing on the base of the bottle to tip it back into Cosy’s throat.
“Go hand these out,” Kaia says, shoving a handful of face paint at Sunday. “Reaper, with me. Let’s go do some illegal shit.”
“My favorite,” I giggle and follow her closely as we traipse across the parking lot to the utility shed. “Do you think they’ll be pissed at us?” I ask as she pops the lock quietly. We slip inside, and I fish my phone out to help her see as she finds her way over the box that’s labeled ‘lights’. She unlocks it, flips on Pitch A’s lights, and before I can ask if it worked, the Hillcats erupt in cheers.
Outside, everyone's war paint glows under the hazy black lights for the midnight foam run, and suddenly, the night gets a lot more fun. I pull my hair back into two even buns at the base of my neck and check to make sure that I have my mouth guard in my pocket before we take the field.Because the jerseys we all wear are similar, most of the Hillcatsare ready to play in their sports bras and tank tops. It gives us the perfect opportunity to add more color to our arms and chests, and makes us glow like trouble.
In the black light, it’s hard to even tell that the Hogs showed up, but as we get closer, we find them standing around talking in a huddle, almost imperceptible in the darkness. Boone turns, his expression souring—but Kaia silences him before he can open his mouth.
“Here,” she says, tossing a bag to him. His face lights up when he opens it, and he pulls out their own stock of face paint. He gives her a lopsided smile and starts handing it out, because beneath all the bickering, they’re always on the same side.
“It’s not going to look as cool as yours,” he frowns, waving his giant hand at her, “I need your delicate hands, Killer.”
“Oh, sure, now you’re all sweet talk.” Kaia’s tone changes, and she takes the pastels from him.
Most of the guys are helping each other, but Brighton clears his throat from beside me and hands me a package. “You’re an art teacher, aren’t you?” he says gruffly, and I’m surprised he showed up at all. He didn’t really seem like the type to break his routine.
“You want me to…?” I take it from him with a smile, and he turns in my direction. It’s an odd thing to be taller than most of the men around you,all the time.It usually means no heels, no platforms,no fun—lots of self-confidence issues. Watching Brighton Black sink onto his heels, bend his knees, and fold his arms to come eye level with me brings a burst of girlish euphoria blooming in my chest.
Oh. He stares at me, the black lights making his stormy eyes even sharper, and I try to remember what he wants.
Breathe, you stupid slut. You are a strong, independent woman; he is just a man.
“Are you going to—” He starts, and I startle free of my thoughts.
“Hold still,” I say, steadying his chin as I drag bright purple paint across his taut cheekbone, right over the faint scar there. “What number are you?”
“You don’t know my number?” he says, deadpan.
“I— No,” I confess.
“One.” He says, lips still pressed in a straight line, jaw still impossibly tight.
“Duh,” I curse myself for not being aware.Thing One. It’s literally written on everything, Rhea.On his other cheek, I draw the one and leave it at that.
“Thanks,” he says, waiting until my fingers leave his chin before he snatches the paint and tosses it to Boone. “Let’s get this over with. I’m exhausted.”
“Wait, wait—” Kaia holds up her hands and makes sure that all eyes are on her before she continues to speak. “Stakes.”
“Yeah, you lose, and Boone gets the title of the fastest,” Brighton says.
“Don’t be boring,” Sunday giggles as she helps Judd paint his number on his bicep in neon green.
“I want something important,” Kaia says, like she already has something in mind, and Brighton groans with impatience. “I want the Boone Burger.”
“You order that every game night, why is that important?” Judd asks with maximum confusion.
“No,I want it. If we win tonight, the Boone Burger becomes the Hillcat Burger.” She stares at Brighton as Boone’s face scrunches up in annoyance.
