“He doesn’t look old enough to have a daughter in college,” is all I say.
“Yeah, well he does. And I know she’s hot stuff, but getting with her would be completely out of bounds. Coach has made it abundantly clear. You’ll never last long if you so much as touch her. Or even look at her too long.”
I think back to the glare that Coach shot me as I was completing the drills. Now I know it’s because he noticed I was looking at his daughter.
Good thing he can’t read minds. Because then he would have known all the dirty things I want to do with his off limits daughter and he never would have let me on the team.
“What a fucking bad hand fate has dealt me,” I mumble.
“Tell me about it,” Christian answers. “You and me, and every other guy on the team. All we can do is look at the forbidden fruit, and never have any of it. Some of us have tried, deciding to take the risk, but she never gives it up. She’s a Daddy’s girl through and through. It’s so cruel.”
But I stare at her one more time, knowing that I’ll do more than look, no matter what kind of warnings I get from Christian or anyone else, and no matter how good and chaste Chelsea’s been before she met me.
They always change their ways for me.
As the players clear off the field, Chelsea leads her flock of cheerleaders on, and begins directing a cheer. I want a big taste of that juicy forbidden fruit, and I know nothing’s going to hold me back.
I’m Wesley Reynolds, star quarterback. I may have been knocked a bit off my game but I’m staging my comeback. And when I want something, I fucking take it.
Chapter 3 – Chelsea
Trying to get and keep the attention of a large group of women is often an impossible task. This season, the throng of current and aspiring cheerleaders seems even more unruly than usual.
“Ladies, ladies,” I call out, but everyone keeps talking to each other, over my voice.
I break out the bullhorn and try again.
“Attention, ladies!”
Everyone quiets down, finally, and focuses their attention on me.
“As soon as the players are off the field, I’d like all current cheerleaders to take your positions, and show the candidates how it’s done. Auditions will be held tomorrow, so there isn’t a lot of time to learn the routine.”
There are murmurs and whispers, as the newbies complain about having such little time to learn something so new and difficult. Yada, yada, yada.
I’m used to such complaints, but this process has proven the best at weeding people out, because every year there are a few talented girls who quickly rise to the top and join our team, while the rest of them are sent home crying.
I have a reputation for being a bit of a hard ass. But someone’s got to do it. And I didn’t become head cheerleader by being a doormat.
Some might assume that I got here by being the football coach’s daughter, which isn’t true, and which is all the more reason I’ve had to work my ass off to prove myself. Ever since my mom died, cheerleading has become my life: something to immerse myself in, to distract me from my thoughts of how much I miss her.
Sure, it’s not a cure-all, but it’s better than lying in bed feeling depressed. I’ve built up this team and trained them to become not only conference champions but state champions too. And this year I’ve got my eye on nationals.
I begin walking onto the field, leading the flock of veteran cheerleaders who are ready to show off for the anxious newbies. And no one is pretending we don’t want to get a look at the football players who are wrapping up their walk on try outs.
Most of them are familiar faces and we’re happy to see some of them more than others. But there are also always a few promising, fresh-faced and handsome wannabe football players to gawk at.
One of them is still straggling off the field, talking to Christian Lewis. I can’t help but stop dead in my tracks to stare at him. He’s broad shouldered and tall, and his abs are so chiseled that I can make them out from under his uniform.
He’s carrying his helmet and his dark brown hair is hanging in his eyes just a little bit. His hair is even longer and fuller than Christian’s, which is saying something. And from underneath all that hair, the new player is staring back at me.
“Chelsea!”
I hear my name being called, and snap my head to the left, where my best friend and co-captain Taylor Hudson is glaring at me.
“What?”
“Snap out of it. Back to planet earth. They’re waiting…”
She gestures with a quick head movement to the team, ready for me to start the routine.
“I couldn’t help it,” I whisper to Taylor.
As my BFF, she’s the only person on the team to whom I’d admit such a weakness.
“He’s so fucking hot.”
She looks at the new guy.
“He’s fine all right,” she shrugs. “But what’s the difference? He’s just one more football player your dad will forbid you to date, and scare away if he tries.”
“Maybe he won’t make the team,” I say hopefully. “Then I won’t have to be teased all season long by what I can never have.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” she replies. “I know you still don’t know or care a lick about football, but I watched him during the scrimmage and he’s probably better than most of the seniors on the team.”
“Great.”
Just my luck.
But I’m determined not to let my dad ruin this for me. I sneak a quick glance back in the new guy’s direction, and I’m pleased to see that I’ve had an effect on him. It’s clear that he can’t stop looking at me, either.
“Ready? Let’s go!” I command, forcing myself to join reality again, and the team kicks off our routine.
One, two, three, one, two, three… I count in my head like a newbie myself, afraid to mess up the steps. Even though I know this routine so well, I’m not used to performing in front of a handsome, mysterious stranger.
I make it all the way through the routine without screwing anything up too badly. But then I just kind of stand around, dumbfounded, as the new player and Christian walk in my general direction.
It looks like he might actually come over and talk to me, which is exactly what I was hoping for. But it appears that I’m suddenly unable to do anything but freeze.
Taylor elbows me and then speaks into the bullhorn on my behalf.
“I hope you were paying attention, ladies,” she says, to the scared looking girls huddled in front of us. “Because that’s the routine you’re expected to have mastered by tomorrow, if you want to have any chance of making the team.”
“Thanks,” I whisper to her, grateful that she stepped in to say something since my vocal chords don’t seem to work.
Taylor has helped me lead the squad, and even though I do most of the choreography and training, she always steps in to help out with anything I need. Just like she does with everything else in my life.
“Get your head out of La-La Land,” she snaps at me. “Try outs for this year’s team are a lot more important than some guy you’re not going to be able to be with anyway.”
I must really be spacing out, if Taylor is this mad at me.
And I know she’s right. This isn’t even like me. I didn’t get to where I am by being obsessed with boys. Instead, I’m usually focused and determined on the task at hand.
But right now I can’t help but continue to stare at those abs and those eyes on that new guy. I hope he’s really going to approach me, even with my dad so close.
At the last minute, though, Christian says something to him and they make a beeline for the science building, and I realize he’s not coming over to talk to me after all. Maybe it was all just wishful thinking.
But then he turns around and looks at me one more time, before sauntering off into the sunset with Christian.
I wonder what Christian said to him. He’d hit on me last year kind of relentlessly. I kept using the excuse that my dad doesn’t
let me date football players, and, as often happens, I was glad to have an alibi. Because really he just isn’t my type.
He finally got the hint and he’s cordial enough to me now. But maybe he told the new guy I’m stuck up or something. I get that reaction sometimes from guys I’m not interested in.
I pout about the fact that the new guy didn’t come talk to me, but I know that Taylor’s right. Or at least, she would be, except that this time I’m determined to have things turn out differently.
Because that new football player is one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen and I’m not about to let my father ruin things for me.
Chapter 4 – Chelsea
After practice, Taylor and I each head off to our different classes. She’s a literature major whereas I’m more of a science nerd. After class we meet up to go to lunch together as we almost always do.
“My Greek myths class was so boring,” she says, untying her ponytail holder and letting her thick, brown hair flow loose. “And I’m starving.”
“Me too,” I agree. “But first I have to stop by my dad’s office.”
“Why?” Taylor groans, scrunching up her nose.
She and my dad get along well enough, but she knows that he and I are prone to fight, and she likes to stay away from the conflict if she can help it.
“Because I know he’s there strategizing for the next game,” I tell her, feeling sorry for my dad for having a losing team when he always works so hard to make them better.
Calton isn’t a strong division school for football so it just doesn’t attract the good players. It’s not his fault, but he takes it personally.
“And I have to ask him about the party.”
“Oh yeah,” Taylor says. “But can’t you do that later, maybe? Like, at home?”
I just roll my eyes and keep walking towards my dad’s office. I know he likes Taylor and thinks she’s a good influence on me. So I want her there with me.
It’s ironic, because she didn’t grow up with such a strict father like him— in fact, her dad left when she was young, leaving her mother to raise her. Her mom was busy working to provide for Taylor and her siblings as a single parent, so she wasn’t around to be as over-protective as my dad was. I have a brother, but it’s different with daughters.
As a result, Taylor is much more experienced with guys and with life in general than I am, but my dad still thinks I’m the bad one and she’s the good one. It works for me in times such as these, though, so I just go with it.
When we arrive at my dad’s office, I put on my best “Daddy, please” face before asking him my pressing question.
“Hi girls,” he says, looking up from a playbook.
Then, he looks at the clock with a worried face. “Don’t you have class?”
“No, Dad,” I tell him reassuringly. “That was last semester. We have lunch first now.”
“Oh okay.”
His face relaxes, which makes me hopeful. I blurt out my question, before I get too afraid to ask him.
“Dad, Taylor and I would like to know if we can use the lake house for a little congratulatory party for the squad, after our competition next weekend.”
“A party?” he asks, and I can tell he’s about to say no right away.
“Chelsea doesn’t really mean ‘party party,’” Taylor jumps in, saving me. “Just a small get together to celebrate the kick-off of the new season.”
My dad squints an eye at us, not overly impressed.
“It’s also a getting to know you party for the new recruits,” Taylor quickly adds, and I wish I could give her a kiss on the cheek. She always knows just what to say to get him to give in. “We thought some bonding time would be nice.”
“I see.”
My dad sighs. He shoots me that look that says he’s about to give in to me even though he doesn’t really want to.
Yes.
I love my dad, and being Daddy’s little girl can definitely have its advantages, even though I wish he weren’t so overly protective of me all the time. I’m glad he’s been here for me after Mom passed away. It was the hardest thing that either of us have ever gone through, so at least we have each other.
“I suppose it’ll be all right,” he says. “On the condition that none of my players are present, of course.”
“Of course,” Taylor instantly confirms, and I flash back to memories of middle school, when we’d cross our fingers behind our backs during times such as these.
“That’s good,” Dad continues. “And don’t try to pull one over on me, because I’ll be on the other side of the lake at my usual fishing spot, so I plan on dropping by.”
“Sure, Daddy,” I say, leaning over his desk to give him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you! I can’t believe you said yes. Last year you said no.”
“But I told you to ask me again this year, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Look, Sweetheart,” my dad says, leaning back in his chair and looking at me as if he’s not sure he wants to say anything further. “I know you’ve grown up a lot and that I can trust you. I’m proud of you.”
“Really?” I ask, suddenly feeling guilty for knowing that I want to invite the new player to this party, against my dad’s rules.
“Really. You’ve been through a lot and you just keep keeping on. That takes real determination. I know how hard you’ve worked to get your team to this point.”
I nod.
“I’m glad that at least you realize that, Dad. Lots of people think cheerleaders are ditzy and shallow. But it’s a tough sport.”
“I know it is, honey. I’ve seen the long hours you put into planning and choreographing the routines. I know you and Taylor are good leaders of the squad. So I think you deserve a celebratory party. And I wish you all the best in this upcoming year. You too Taylor, of course.”
“Awww, thanks Dad,” I tell him.
Taylor chimes in with her thanks as well. I try to choke back tears. My dad isn’t usually the sentimental type, and what he said means a lot to me.
Taylor saves me once again by saying, “Well Mr. Thompson, we’d better get to lunch so we’ll be on time for class.”
“Have a good afternoon, Taylor,” he says, returning to his studies of the playbook. “You too, Sweetie.”
I’m torn between a confusing mix of feelings. I’m grateful for my dad’s kind words, but I’m also really excited to invite the new football player to the party my dad has forbidden him to attend.
I don’t know whether it’s the secrecy that’s causing my rush of adrenaline, or the thought of seeing the new guy again. I just know that I need to get that accomplished as soon as I possibly can, for the sake of my mental health. Because he’s all I can think about and it’s driving me crazy.
Chapter 5 – Chelsea
As we head to the cafeteria, I tell Taylor, “Oh my god, I feel bad for totally playing my dad… especially when he got all sweet and nice about me.”
Taylor says, “Well, he’s hiding stuff of his own, you know, so I guess it’s even.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Oh come on. He was totally bullshitting about dropping by the lake house to check up on us. I already know that he and my mom have plans for this weekend.”
I don’t say anything at first, so she looks at me and asks, “Didn’t you know that too?”
“Oh yeah, I know,” I lie, laughing. “He must think we’re so oblivious.”
It’s been painfully obvious that my dad and Taylor’s mom have been spending an awful lot of time together recently. It’s kind of weird, since Taylor and I have been friends since grade school and more or less grew up together.
But then again, it makes sense, with both of them having been lonely single parents for so long, and in a way I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. I guess they were waiting until Taylor and I were both off to college to start flirting and dating and hooking up.
They probably weren’t expecting that we’d both still live at home, but t
hey did want us to go to Calton University. Of course my dad thinks it’s the best school in the world. And college tuition has jumped up so much that it’s much cheaper to stay put and save money on room and board.
I only got a partial scholarship at Calton and Dad said he’d pay for the rest of my tuition and that I could just keep living at home. Although I’d always imagined Taylor and I going off to a larger and further away city for college, this arrangement seemed to make the most sense.
I hate having to abide by my dad’s super strict rules. But it definitely works financially. And I didn’t want to leave my dad grieving for my mom alone. When I’m honest, I know I didn’t want to be grieving for her alone without him, either.
Now that Taylor and I are at least out of high school, I guess my dad and her mom figure it’s safe to hook up now and then without being a bad influence on us. It couldn’t be that they were so busy raising us that they never had the chance to worry about their dating lives until now, because that’s not true for either one of them.
My dad, being the football coach and in good shape for his age, has been pretty sought after and has never had a problem finding a date or a string of casual girlfriends. But he’s told me that no one has ever come close to my mom. He isn’t interested in looking for a replacement because that’s just not possible.
Although it’s a little weird that his current fling is my best friend’s mom, it makes sense that in such a small city they might eventually get around to going out on some dates together. And it also has its perks. Taylor and I know when they’re distracted spending time with each other, and therefore when my dad is less likely to be breathing down my neck.
But I didn’t know they were getting together this weekend. I’m kind of bummed that Taylor knew and I didn’t. I don’t know why my dad wouldn’t just tell me.
“It’s so gross to think of our parents getting it on,” I tell her, to lighten the moment.
“I know! Ewww!” she says. “But it’s clear they also really like each other, and I’m glad my mom is so happy.”
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