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“Well...good,” my mom said.

I stared at her. Did she think I was saying I wasn’t seducing my teacher? Or wasn’t going to get him arrested? Either way, it seemed better not to clarify in this scenario. So I stayed quiet.

I wondered what kind of meeting Mr. Halifax was having right now. Whoever it was with, I hoped she really was hideous. Or a man. Or both.

Chapter 12 – Mr. Halifax Is Touching My Ass

Saturday

“Why are they putting in the backup?” Scarlett asked. She jumped to her feet and yelled, “Boo!” as loud as she could.

Axel pulled off his helmet as he jogged off the field. And he winked up at her.

I grabbed Scarlett’s arm to pull her back down. “They’re probably about to do some kind of trick play. Don’t bring attention to it.”

We were down by one touchdown and there were only a few seconds until halftime. The air had been electric during every game I’d ever been to in this stadium. But there was something different about today.

This was the last game I’d ever attend as a student. The last time Scarlett and I would be rooting for our boys.

I was excited for college. But I’d miss nights like this. I glanced at Mr. Halifax on the field. And I’d really miss watching him in that sexy ass costume.

The ref blew the whistle and the team split from their huddle.

“He’s going to run it, isn’t he?” Scarlett said. “They’re going to know that. God, why did they take Axel out?” She put her hand over her eyes like she didn’t want to watch. “Henley is a terrible quarterback.”

“And kisser,” I said.

Scarlett laughed.

He was. A bad kisser and a bad quarterback. I’d taken one for the team and kissed him to narrow him off Scarlett’s kiss thief list. And as far as the quarterback thing, he almost never went in.

This seemed like a terrible trick play that wasn’t even a trick. Why would they run this play when we were on the 50-yard-line with only a few seconds left of the half? Had Uncle Matt lost his mind?

The center snapped the ball and Henley shifted left, looking for an opening to run through.

But there was none. Because Bernstein Prep had read the play just like Scarlett had. Two linemen broke through the line.

“Throw it!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Oh God, I couldn’t watch this either. I was about to cover my eyes too, but then Henley did exactly what I’d yelled.

Right before he got sacked, he threw a lateral to Jacob. All the defenders had shifted toward Henley and Jacob was wide open.

Which I realized had probably been the play the whole time. Sorry, Henley. Sorry, Uncle Matt. I jumped to my feet and started cheering as Jacob ran down the field.

He sidestepped a defender on the 30-yard-line. And then he did some kind of spin that made the next defender slip on the field.

“Go, Jacob!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

“Miller! Miller! Miller!” the whole stadium started chanting.

I climbed up on top of my seat to get a better view and pulled Scarlett up too. We both cheered at the top of her lungs.

“That’s my boy!” I yelled as he stiff-armed a defender on the 10-yard-line.

Scarlett laughed.

She had Axel’s number painted on her cheeks. So I’d painted Jacob’s on mine. And I was wearing his jersey number.

Jacob ran into the end zone and the stadium was deafening.