Page 6 of Lavender and Linebackers

“What is that supposed to mean?” She frowns.

“You always did like bossing me around.”

“Well, from what I remember, you liked it.”

She’s not wrong. I did. No matter what it was, if Alice mentioned it, I did it. From concerts to movies, places to eat, and how we spent our Sunday afternoons, I wanted her to be happy. So as long as she was, then I was too.

Sunday afternoons.

A deep longing for a different time throws a weight over my shoulders. I haven’t thought about Sunday afternoons in a long time. Maybe I even mentally blocked them—who knows, but Sunday afternoons were my favorite of the whole week. Sometimes we had homework we’d do together, but mostly it was just us. Us in our favorite park, which bumped up to a lake, in the back of my truck. Alice would always pack us a picnic, and we would hang out for hours under the oak trees talking about our lives and our dreams. Occasionally, we would play cards or a board game. Sometimes we would toss the football, and other times, it would be her head on my thigh as she read us a book. Alice was home for me, and I should have known at some point it would become broken. After all, that’s my life in a nutshell—broken home.

“I remember a lot of things too, Alice,” I sneer at her. “Let me be very clear with you. I don’t want to do this even though I have to. I don’t want to be near you, and I definitely don’t want to hear your voice. Do not talk to me unless necessary, and I won’t talk to you. Because if you do, like now, you won’t like what I have to say in return.”

The second I’m done, I know how she’s going to take my words, and I feel heat climbing into my cheeks. Just like she knows me, I know her. She’s a words person. She’s always loved them, lived them through the pages of the stories she’s read, and she hangs on to them. That quote sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me? That’s not true for her. Words fuel her soul, and they can also kill it.

Every emotion on her beautiful face bleeds away as she stares at me. Moments pass, and right before me, it’s like she becomes an instant empty shell of the girl I used to know. She almost looks like a different person. Big brown eyes blink slowly. My heart rate increases and starts to pound inside my chest.

What is she thinking?

Do I even care?

No, I don’t. She lost the right to take up residence in my mind the day she turned on me, and I force myself to stand a little taller.

People are passing by, the heat from the sun is suddenly unbearable, and in about the time it takes for this little interaction to become more awkward than it already is, without another word, she stiffly turns toward the parking lot and walks away.

My eyes drop to take in her petite body and tiny ass. I hate myself for looking at her, and I hate that after four years she can still make my heart race.

Exhaling sharply, I squeeze my eyes shut, turn in the opposite direction, and head toward the players’ lot. In the back of my head, I can hear Sully now. “Rookie, I know you read the handbook, so don’t even think about it.”

Sully is one of our team captains, and he’s a stickler for the rules. So much so that I wonder if he even knows how to have fun. But if there’s one thing he never needs to worry about, it’s me fraternizing with her. Football players and cheerleaders are strictly forbidden. There’s no telling what would happen to me, and I’m certain she would be kicked off the team. And as much as that idea intrigues me—I wouldn’t have to see her—I’m not that much of an asshole.

All I need to focus on is getting in and getting out. Check the box of these appearances, and remember I’m doing my job.

Yeah, I can do that.

My job.

I’ve worked my whole life to get to where I am. Nothing or no one will stop me.

Especially Alice Monarch.

Chapter 3

Alice

Ivividly remember the day I met Ryder.

Both of us had transferred to a new school, entering sixth grade. It was the first day of school, and our first block was advisory. Advisory consisted of twelve students, alphabetically lumped together, and we were told that these were the students with whom we’d be creating a supportive environment outside of academics. The teacher called roll to place us in our seats, and as my last name is Monarch and his is Monroe, we were seated next to each other.

At twelve years old, Ryder was the tallest kid I’d ever seen. My mom once said that as he hit puberty, he reminded her of a puppy: lanky, big hands and feet, and still learning how to use his body. His medium-brown hair was floppy on his face, and he had a face full of acne and braces. He looked like every other preteen boy, yet not at the same time. He looked like someone I couldn’t wait to be friends with.

Of course I did what I always used to do when I was younger. I talked . . . a lot. I’d never had a friend who was a boy, but there was something about him, and I just knew he’d be mine. He was going to become the best friend that I didn’t have. And he did. Until seven years later, when suddenly he wasn’t.

“You know, I got here as fast as I could after you raised the bat signal, but I didn’t think it was going to be like this,” Kelli says as she takes a seat across from me at our favorite Greek restaurant.

Kelli and I were cheerleaders together in college. We met at practice over the summer and then were delighted when she turned out to be my roommate in the athlete’s dorm. We’ve lived together ever since. Outside of Ryder, she’s my longest friend, and in many ways my voice of reason. We spent every moment together, and that first summer following our freshman year, she decided to come home with me. It only took a couple of weeks for her to fall in love with Tampa. Now we cheer here professionally together, we still live together, and she’s my biggest supporter of the Mighty Monarchs.

“Oh, just you wait. If we’d had four different bat signals, I would have shined them all,” I tell her, shoving another piece of bread into my mouth. I’m certain I look like a crazed, starved squirrel with how my cheeks are puffed out, but yours would be too if you were me.