“I need to get back to the office,” Paxton said as she grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “I’ll think about the game,” she added over her shoulder.
Ever the smartass, Shayla said, “See you at seven!”
Chapter 8
Bright stadium lightsilluminated the perfectly manicured field at Gauthier High School, reflecting off the ferocious lion logo holding center stage in the middle of the field. The chain-link fence surrounding the stadium was covered in hand-painted signs promising to “Manhandle the Mustangs” and “Bring Home the Iron Boot.”
Homecoming was always the biggest game of the season, and tonight’s game had even more at stake, as it pitted the Gauthier Lions against their archrivals, the Maplesville Mustangs. The game had become a yearly tradition, with the victor winning the honor of displaying the coveted iron trophy in the shape of a boot—representing the shape of Louisiana—at the school for the remainder of the academic year.
There was not a single seat left in the stands. People were crowded at least three deep along the fence, as well. Shayla had been right; it looked as if every single person in Gauthier and Maplesville was at this game tonight.
Paxton buried her chin inside her jacket collar and braced herself against the blast of cold wind that blew across the bleachers. A collectivewhooooawent through the crowd.
People north of the Mason-Dixon would probably laugh at the crowd’s reaction to the temperature, which was just under fifty degrees, but south Louisianans weren’t used to such weather, especially this early in the season. The October cold front that had blown in had everyone pulling out their winter gear.
“Fun, right?” Shayla said as she sat next to Paxton and handed her a hot chocolate from the concession stand.
“If I had a list of things that are more fun than this, it would stretch from here all the way back to Little Rock,” Paxton answered.
“Well, can you pretend it’s fun so I don’t feel guilty for dragging you here?”
“I want you to feel guilty,” Paxton said before taking a sip of her hot chocolate. She grimaced. “This is horrible.”
“I know. It’s instant. But it’s not supposed to taste good—it’s just supposed to warm you up.” Shayla nudged her shoulder and pointed to the far end of the football field. “The homecoming court is about to take their pregame walk.”
“And what is that?” Paxton asked.
“Just watch it,” Shayla said.
All of this was so foreign to her, Paxton was at a complete loss about how to act.
She’d attended exactly two football games during her entire four years as a student here, and neither of them had been the homecoming game. Not only did she abhor all the silly pageantry that appeared to her to be nothing more than a chance to heap more praise on the popular crowd, but she also hated football.
She really could think of a million places she’d rather be right now. She’d probably spend the majority of her time tonight coming up with a mental list. It would be better than having to pay attention to the game or to the homecoming court, which was currently receiving a standing ovation from the crowd.
She snorted.
A standing ovation? For what? Knowing how to walk in heels and wave at the same time?
Stop it!she mentally chastised herself.
Paxton slunk deeper into her collar, ashamed at the petty thoughts swirling through her head. These were kids, for goodness’ sake. And she was no longer that girl she once was in high school, seething with jealousy, coveting her fellow classmates’ fun-filled, carefree lives.
ThatPaxton Jones, the girl who had never fit into celebrations like this one, was gone. She had been replaced by the self-assured woman who was successful enough to buy her mother a bar and wear designer clothes and do all those other things she couldn’t do back in high school.
This new Paxton could put up with a few hours of this spectacle for her friend’s sake, couldn’t she?
The homecoming court walked the length of the football field. It looked rather silly that the girls were in their fancy dresses while their escorts—all football players—wore their uniforms. But since no one else pointed out the ridiculousness of it, Paxton decided it was best to keep her opinion to herself.
Once the girls were seated on the dais that had been erected on the running track that surrounded the field, their escorts joined the other members of the team underneath the goalpost at the far end of the field.
After the team ran through the sign the cheerleaders held up for them, everyone stood for the playing of the national anthem by the Gauthier Lions marching band. A small contingent from each team walked arm in arm to the center of the field for the coin toss, with a roar erupting when the Lions won.
The moment the Mustangs’ kicker sent the ball sailing into the air, Paxton lost all interest in what was taking place on the field. While the two teams battled it out during the first quarter, she read through her work email on her phone, replying to those she’d flagged as low-priority follow-ups throughout the week. She shook the green-and-white pom-pom shaker Shayla had shoved into her hand when she heard the crowd cheer and joined in with the booing when that reaction was warranted.
The only time she raised her head was when Xavier arrived. She gave him a quick hug, then went back to checking her email.
“You could have stayed home for this,” Shayla told her at the end of the first quarter.
