by Tay Marley
“Are you going to use that photo against me if I say no?”
“No, Emily—otherwise I wouldn’t be asking for permission. I would just tell you that I’m going to do it. I prefer not to resort to blackmail.”
She shrugged. “Okay, fine. Takes the pressure off me.”
I tried to keep the shock from my face. That might have been the nicest thing that she’d ever done for me.
Chapter 23
The game was that night and both teams—football and cheer—were in tip-top shape for the end of February. It had been a great experience over the last few weeks, acting as the captain for a while. Emily had a little bit of trouble in the beginning—she’d bark orders during practice or attempt to correct the steps even though the routine was new to her as well.
Keeping with the theme of miracles, we managed to get through the last month without blood being shed, threats being made, or hair being pulled. It was progress, albeit small. It was still preferable to the total hate and resentment that had existed between us before.
Nathan and I were sitting in the living room after school. I was on the floor, staring at our threadbare carpet and promising myself that I’d have the cash to replace it one day. Nathan was on the sofa with his leg propped on his knee while he read his phone.
We were watching Supernatural reruns. Gabby was in love with this show. She drooled, I mean drooled, over Dean Winchester. She had an obsession with her television heroes, but she argued with the use of the word obsessed.
It’s not an obsession, she’d say in defense. It’s dedication.
Our old sofa groaned when Nathan shifted. He dropped his leg and put the other one up. “You get that letter?” he asked, biting on a thumb nail. “The acceptance one?”
“Still waiting.”
It was nice that he asked if I’d got an acceptance letter rather than simply asking if I’d heard back. It felt as if acceptance was all that it could be. The audition at CalArts had gone well but I was trying not to get my hopes up.
“I’ll have to get a roommate when you leave.” Nathan’s phone bounced when he tossed it and the spring in the couch squeaked. “It’ll be too quiet without you dancing around all the time.”
“Nathan, get married. Have a couple of kids. Settle down. You’re twenty-five, dude.”
“This is prime time. This is when I’m meant to be doing the bachelor thing.”
Dust danced when I dragged my feet across the carpet toward me. Knees to my chest, I hugged my legs and rested my chin on top. “And that would be fine if I believed that it made you happy. You hate being alone. That’s the reason that you—”
“We’re not doing this again.” He stood, stretched, and strolled into the kitchen. “Dallas, you are not a shrink. I do not need advice.”
“It’s not advice. It’s an opinion.”
The cupboard doors opened and closed in the kitchen. Before long, there were frozen berries and fruit spread across the countertop. Nathan held the blender cup in one hand and peered over at where I was still sitting on the living-room floor.
“Smoothie?”
“No thanks.”
I was about an hour from game time and the last thing that I needed was to be thrown around with dairy in my stomach, which reminded me I should have been going. Standing up, I slipped my cell phone into my bra and ran a hand through my ponytail while I deliberated if I needed to remember anything else.
“Dallas,” Nathan snapped. “Quit doing that.”
I stared. “Doing what?”
“Putting your cell phone in your bra. How many damn times do we have to go over this?”
He stormed toward me. There was milk on his black T-shirt, and I laughed at how childish it seemed, until he pinched the bottom of my phone and pulled it out of its hiding spot.
“Nathan.” I swatted his shoulder and snatched it back. “I don’t need your advice.”
“It’s not advice, dipshit. It’s called cellular radiation and it’s a real thing. Use a pocket.”
My big brother had been health conscious for as long as I could remember. It went further than his diet and exercise. Putting my phone in my bra was a bad habit, so I slipped it into my pants pocket and smiled with sarcasm.
“Happy? Can we go now?”
“Hang on, let me put this stuff away.”
He went back to the kitchen to finish his smoothie and pack up the ingredients.
“Yeah. And, Nathan, change your shirt.”
At school, the chaos was unreal. The parking lot was congested with cars that honked and drivers who leaned out of their windows, cussing when their spot was stolen. Bumpers touched bumpers and the traffic crawled at a snail’s pace. This was the specific reason that Nathan and I had caught an Uber. It astounded me that people did this every single year and refused to learn that driving was not worth it.
The stands had filled up. There was a near-constant cloud of cold breath above all of the heads. People were huddled with blankets and wore hats. Little children were in sleeping bags. Noses were red and hands were hidden in gloves. But the atmosphere was so positive. It was inspiring that so many people supported such a good cause.
I was sitting on the track with Melissa. We were underneath a big blanket covered in a picture of Lady Gaga. We had fifteen minutes before kickoff, and I was excited to see Drayton play again.
Our cheer uniforms were sleeveless, but we’d all agreed to wear a maroon long sleeve underneath our tops because of how cold it was. The days were no longer filled with permafrost, but nighttime was still cuddle weather.
There was a sudden pause in the elevator music that had been humming in the background. It wasn’t loud, but the abrupt stop was enough that the crowd became quiet in anticipation. The field was vacant. It couldn’t be time for the game to begin.
Melissa and I stood up and wandered, along with the other curious cheerleaders, toward the edge of the field. A new song began. The sound was louder than it had been before and I recognized the song was “I Like Me Better” by Lauv.
As soon as the first verse began, six of the football players emerged from the left tunnel. They cradled a football each and lined up in the middle of the field.
The first player stepped forward and kicked his football into the air. It exploded into fireworks. It was loud and I startled, but it was so beautiful. The crowd gasped with marvel and awe as bursts of color popped against the canvas of black. The second player followed with his ball.
And so it continued in quick succession until the sixth player had kicked his ball. The impromptu display was such a unique beginning to the game. I was so fixated on figuring out how those footballs were engineered that I almost missed Drayton walking onto the field.
He was in his uniform but with no helmet, just his maroon and white colors, his chest gear and a football under one arm. He sauntered toward the head of the setup, and I watched him, curious as to why he hadn’t mentioned that he was doing some sort of pre-game performance.
“Baby,” he cupped his hand around his mouth and shouted. “Catch!”
Without giving it a second thought, I stepped forward and noticed that the cheerleaders stepped back. He evaluated his aim and then sent the ball with a strong arm, letting it spiral straight for me.
Much to my relief, I caught the ball, feeling triumphant because the crowd was huge and missing would have been embarrassing. I glanced down at the ball and almost dropped it when I read the words that were scrawled across it in thick black font.
You’re the greatest catch that I’ve ever made, Cheer. Touchdown at prom with me?
It was a promposal. He’d planned this entire thing for me, and I’d had no idea.
I was still staring at the ball, reading the words and semi-ignoring the fact that thousands of people were watching me. The sheer thought of that would have killed me once upon a time. But I no longer c
ared. I looked up just in time to see that Drayton had run across the field and was a few feet in front of me. As he swept me up, the ball slipped out of my hold and I wrapped myself around him, hooking my legs around his waist as he spun in a slow circle.
He held me up under the bum, the maroon in our uniforms blended together, and we kissed. I held his face, gripped his hair, and attempted not to let it go too far in front of all of the families that were there. Our lips parted and met again over and over. Closed mouth kisses. To keep it appropriate.
He leaned back and I was met with that green gaze that turned me inside out. “Is that a yes?”
I bit down on a smile and shrugged. “Sure.”
His grin widened, touching the corners of his eyes, and that laugh, it could melt butter. The crowd was applauding. There were congratulations and a lot of awws going on.
Coach Finn’s voice boomed through a megaphone. “All right, good job, lovebirds. Now let the girl go, Lahey. We’ve got a game to win.”
Drayton let me drop down in front of him. He loved his sport but I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t mind disappearing right now. He began to back up, still holding one of my hands. “You look beautiful, Cheer.”
“Good luck tonight.”
He winked, and then he won.
After the game, there was a celebration at Maxon’s. Gabby was given a direct invitation from Maxon himself. She’d become closer with some of the team and their extended group thanks to her relationship with Josh. She could drink most of them under the table, and it appeared that they loved it.
“Dallas,” she called from her spot around a round glass table, low to the floor, where a bunch of people were sitting for a drinking game. “Come and join.”
I was perched in Drayton’s lap on a suede recliner. We’d come to the party out of obligation to the team, but both of us were eager to leave. “No, it’s all right,” I called back, raising my voice above the loud music. I didn’t want to join a game only to leave in the middle of it.
Maxon’s second-floor living room was an open space with a lot of seating, hardwood floors, and enormous windows that allowed a view of the town’s lights. That was one thing that I loved most about these elite houses—they had so much spare space that excessive windows weren’t even an issue. I loved a good view.
“Bro.” Maxon slapped Drayton on the shoulder as he circled the chair with a Bud Light in his hand. I wanted to tell him to get a real drink. “You’ve done us all wrong.”
Drayton’s thumb rubbed small circles on my hip. “What are you on about?”
“Becca’s been talking about the prom since we started school. Now I have to top that damn promposal.”
A couple of the guys who were close enough to hear agreed. Their complaints made me laugh. It was true that it would be a tough act to top, but that was Drayton. He was an extra-mile sort of person. A promposal hadn’t even occurred to me, but I wasn’t surprised that he’d gone all out. It gave me butterflies whenever I thought about it.
“You couldn’t top it if you tried,” Drayton scoffed, and I giggled at his “humble” attitude. He started to stand up,
so I climbed off his lap and let him wrap his hand around mine. “We’re off. Good game tonight. I’m going to go home and do a victory lap.”
There was a series of laughter as he looked down at me with amusement. Idiot. He kissed my head and tugged the hood of his football jersey so that it bunched around the back of his neck. I did the same with mine. It was cold outside and we were bracing for the frostbitten air that would blast us the moment that we stepped outside.
We said our collective farewells. I knew that Josh and Gabby would be back at Drayton’s at some point that night.
“So what did you think of that surprise?” Drayton asked when were in the car. His headlights illuminated the dark road and he leaned over, holding my hand.
“I loved it. I didn’t see it coming. At all.”
He tipped his head back on the headrest as he kept watching the road, a devious grin lifting his mouth. “You’ll see me coming tonight.”
“Wow.”
In the morning, well, sort of morning—it was almost lunchtime—the four of us were sharing a booth at the diner. It was quiet. It smelled like onions and coffee. Outside, it was dark, the sky filled with grey clouds that threatened rainfall, and the diner lights felt bright and harsh against the gloomy backdrop. I stood at the counter while Kenzie scrawled down our order. “That was such a cute promposal last night,” she said, tearing off the order slip and sticking it to the magnetic strip
I smiled and watched with amusement as her gaze darted toward the booth where Drayton leaned back in the seat with his hands clasped behind his head. I couldn’t blame her for having a bit of a stare. I was used to the fact that he was admired a lot.
“I’ll bring the order over when it’s done.” She tucked a strand of her shoulder-length copper hair behind her ear.
“Thanks, Kenz.”
I slid into the booth beside Drayton and tucked into his side. Gabby and Josh were hungover. They were wearing sunglasses even though the weather was overcast and we were inside. They leaned against each other on the other side of the booth and suffered.
Drayton’s arm rested around my shoulders. His muscles ached and whenever I shifted, he winced from all of the bruising around his biceps I told him more than once to move his arm, but he insisted on keeping me tucked in beside him.
“Gah, where is this food?” I murmured after fifteen minutes, staring at the kitchen where I could see our chef, Joe, checking his cell phone. “I’m starving.”
“Don’t lie,” Drayton laughed. “You just ate.”
It took me a minute to understand what he was talking about. Then I remembered what we’d been doing before we left his house and I smothered a snort.
“Can you not?” Josh frowned, catching on as well. His head was tipped back, leaning on Gabby’s and both of them had a flattering double chin happening.
“Can I not what?” Drayton scoffed, tapping the tabletop with his spare hand. “Can I not talk to my girlfriend about our sex life?”
Josh groaned and I wondered if Gabby was asleep or if she was just avoiding the conversation. “You’re obsessed.”
“I’m obsessed?” Drayton leaned forward with disbelief. His hoodie pulled tight against his chest. “Your room smells like dick all the time. You have jizz on your headboard.”
Gabby was definitely awake. Her chapped lips parted in horror.
“Why are you so fucking loud?” Josh seethed.
“How did you even achieve that?” Drayton laughed. “Learn how to aim. You damn spaz.”
I twisted the hoodie string around my finger. “Better on the headboard than in Gabby’s uterus.”
She remained quiet but slowly lifted a hand and rested it on her face, as if she was hiding. Drayton’s loud laugh further irritated the hungover couple. Both of them cringed, their lips pursed in protest.
We were provided with a distraction when Kenzie delivered our nachos. The plate was huge. Cheese, salsa, sour cream, and of course, a mountain of chips. It was mouthwatering, and Drayton and I wasted no time digging in.
Gabby and Josh hesitated. It must have been the thought of stomaching food that was making them reluctant. Usually they wouldn’t be so shy. I pushed the plate farther into the middle of the table and both of them gagged when the aroma wafted toward their noses. So dramatic.
“You’re not usually this tragic in the morning,” I said. “Exactly how much did you have to drink?”
“It’s not about how much,” Gabby groaned, her body draped across the tabletop as if she couldn’t hold up her own weight. “We had poisonous tequila shots.”
I had to agree with her there. I didn’t touch the stuff.
“Gabs,” I clapped my hands together to dust off chip powder. �
�Your mom was asking me about your college applications. Like, she doesn’t know where you applied? I’m getting kind of worried.”
She remained head down on the table, ignoring me. Josh’s eyes were hidden behind his shades but his lips pursed. He knew something.
“You’re almost a straight-A student,” I continued. “What is the issue? Did you really not app—”
“I did. Shut up,” she interrupted. The door jingled, piercing our now-silent group as new customers came in and out. “I applied at the Arapahoe Community College. Mom didn’t want me moving far and Josh is here. Okay? Happy?”
I looked at Josh, confused, as well as Drayton, who shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me that, Gabs?”
She slowly sat up, wincing and breathing through her movements. “Because you always go on about how smart I am and how I could go anywhere, and I chose people over college. You would never do that. I didn’t want to get harassed about it.”
“I haven’t been pushy, have I?” She didn’t answer me. “I didn’t mean to make you feel pressured. I just want the best for you, Gabs.”
“Someone’s in a grump,” Drayton mumbled, mouth full of food.
“I’m happy if you’re happy,” I assured her.
She didn’t respond, but she did smile. A small smile. I attempted to encourage her to eat again—it was no doubt what she needed—but when I pushed the oversized blue plate farther toward her, she scowled and shoved it back.
“Hey, remember when you two made out once?” Drayton waved a finger between his best friend and me. Even behind their sunglasses, I could see Josh’s and Gabby’s brows furrow.
“What the fuck?”
Drayton ignored Josh. “Dude, I wanted to cut off your tongue when I saw that shit. Baby, I’m so glad that you didn’t sleep with him.”
If the fluorescent lights and white noise of the diner weren’t making our friends throbbing headaches worse, Drayton sure was. Gabby’s chest visibly expanded and her feet shuffled under the table.
