Lincoln looked confused.
"Anyway," Zharia put a smile on her face, "in High School the Varsity and Junior Varsity cheer squads would practice in the same gym, but on opposite sides, so I knew what Lincoln looked like and I thought he was pretty amazing, but we didn't have time to talk and really, in High School, the difference between Varsity and Junior Varsity is like the great divide between upper and lower classmen."
Seaton didn't argue with her, but the great divide for her was just that she didn't feel comfortable talking to other students. She liked Missus March because her teacher made it easy for her to talk. There were times, many many times when Seaton had wished that Missus March had been her mother or grandmother. The little time she'd spent with her English teacher had drawn her out of her shell.
She'd still been painfully shy, but she'd been eager to share her thoughts with her teachers.
Speaking in front of the students who were closer to her age, she felt a kind of terror about speaking.
"And as a freshman," Zharia explained, "it was a learning curve, a very steep one when it came to cheer, including the traditions and 'inside jokes.'"
She used her fingers to make 'finger quotes.'
While she did it, Seaton felt like Zharia's expression had tightened.
Beside her, Lincoln shifted in his seat.
Seaton frowned a little, the bridge of her nose tightened as she felt the tension rising.
She didn't know that she'd reached out to touch Sam's hand until she felt his skin against hers.
Seaton turned to the side to look and see how he was feeling about the unexpected touch.
He didn't turn to look at her, but she saw the corner of his mouth tug up and his hand moved, his thumb curled up along the side of her hand, providing a physical connection without making a big deal about it.
She liked the feel of his warmth against her own skin.
Zharia's voice drew her attention back across the table.
"There was one event that we did together with the Varsity Squad in the first half of the year,” she explained. “It was a father/ daughter moment where the dads come out on the field, and the cheerleaders get up and sit on their shoulders. A kind of acrobatic thing and everyone takes pictures.”
Seaton noticed a shift then.
Zharia’s bright personality dimmed and before Seaton could say anything, Lincoln reached out and covered her hand with his.
"I got this."
Her eyes teared up and a breath caught in Seaton's lungs.
Seaton blinked, finding that her eyes were tearing up as well.
Lincoln cleared his throat and continued the story. "Zharia's dad was deployed. He was stationed at Lackland back then and there they all were standing on the field and dads started coming down out of the stands to walk up to their daughters. Even our head football coach had a daughter on the squad. And Zhariawas standing there, looking around at everyone. She had no idea what was coming."
Seaton saw his face turn to stone.
If she'd seen his face like that with no explanation, she would have thought he was calm and unaffected.
But his voice told the story that his face didn't.
Seaton heard barely concealed rage.
"They'd kept her out of things. They were waiting for everyone to assemble and do the trick and leave her standing there, alone.
"I'd seen Zharia on campus with her dad before, in his uniform. So when I saw her standing there, staring at all of these dad's walking up, I felt like there was a rock in my stomach. So, I ran up and leaned in, asking her if her dad was coming."
Zahria dragged in a breath and swallowed. "I told him that my dad was deployed for a year, at least, and that no one had told me about this."
Beside her, Sam's fist hit the top of the table. "Sadistic."
