The less people who know, the better.
We go back to the cheer room to get ready after practice is over. The girls who can’t go to the dinner leave, and the rest of us change back into the clothes we wore to school. I’m thankful I had on my favorite pair of jeans, and I consider re-curling my hair, but that would look like I’m trying too hard. And there’s supposedly no one on the team I’m trying to impress.
“I’m so glad we’re eating with them tonight,” Kaya tells me as she removes her mascara with a makeup wipe and then immediately reapplies it.
We’re both sitting in front of one of the full-length mirrors that’s propped against the wall in the cheer room. I’m brushing my hair, pleasantly surprised at how well the curl in my hair held. “Of course you’re glad. You get to see your boyfriend,” I tease her.
“Hey, I forgot to tell you.” She turns to look at me. “Ash told Jaden that he’s not with Mia.”
My head immediately starts to ache. “What are you talking about?”
“He was telling Jaden at practice that he knew we saw him with Mia on Saturday, and he just wanted to reassure both of us that he’s not with her. As in, Ash specifically mentioned my name.” Kaya frowns. “Isn’t that weird?”
“Totally weird.”
“Like, why does he care what I think?” She frowns even harder. “Maybe he didn’t want us to tell everyone we saw them together?”
“Did you tell everyone you saw them together?”
“I don’t know about Jaden, but he doesn’t usually gossip about stuff like that. He doesn’t really care who’s dating who, you know? And the only person I told was you,” Kaya says.
He told them so it would get back to me. I’m sure of it. Yes, I sound like I believe the world revolves around me, but I don’t. Not usually. But this situation is definitely about me. He told Jaden because he knew he would tell Kaya and Kaya would tell me.
Now Ash looks like a good guy trying to squash rumors. What the hell ever.
I decide to curl my hair after all, because I’m bored and we still have twenty minutes before we have to go. As time draws closer to us heading over to the dinner, I get more nervous. To the point my stomach is twisted in knots and I feel like I’m going to puke.
This. Sucks.
Eventually we drive over to the church across the street from the high school, where the team dinner is held every Thursday night. The parents’ booster club puts on the dinner for the JV and varsity teams, and sometimes they have a speaker who gets them pumped up for the game. We went to a couple of dinners last year, but this is our first one for this season.
I’m literally shaking as I walk into the room where the dinner is held, thankful Kaya has already ditched me for Jaden so she won’t notice my over-the-top nerves. I’m surrounded by my oblivious team, me being the oldest one with the group since our two seniors both couldn’t make this dinner. The younger girls are acting like they’re about to lose their minds at the prospect of eating dinner with the football team.
“You know none of them pay attention to us,” I say, just to burst their bubble. Though it is actually true. Maybe they’ll come around when the dinner is over and flirt with us for a few minutes. But for the most part, they’re too wrapped up in their own heads, focused on tomorrow’s game.
“That’s not true,” Emma says. “One of them is looking at us right now.”
“It’s Asher Davis,” one of the other girls—I’m not sure who—squeals.
Dread socks me in the stomach, and as discreetly as possible, I glance over my shoulder to find Ash standing a few feet away from us, surrounded by his friends who are all talking animatedly. His gaze is zeroed in on me.
I turn away, hoping he didn’t notice me looking at him.
“Why doesn’t Ben play football?” Emma asks me.
I return my attention to her, pushing Ash out of my mind. “He used to, but he kind of hated it, so he quit after sophomore year. Says he prefers playing basketball.”
“I bet you’re excited to cheer for him.” Emma grins and starts doing this weird little dance like the goof she is.
We’re a two-season sport, as in we cheer for both football and basketball. Sometimes we even cheer for the girls’ volleyball team. By the time February rolls around, we are all so over cheer, it’s not even funny.
“Yeah, it’s fun cheering for basketball,” I tell her absently. I can still feel Ash’s gaze on me, and I want to turn around so I can glare at him, maybe even yell at him, but of course, I don’t.
No way do I need to cause a scene.
My father approaches the wooden podium that’s at the head of the room, and the boys immediately go quiet. The respect they have for him is pretty awesome. It makes me proud to see him command the room, and how they all look at him with reverence.
He makes a few announcements, then thanks the cheer team for joining them for dinner tonight. “…and since we’re all about doing the polite thing, we’d like the ladies to go grab their dinner first,” he says, looking right at me with a big smile on his face.
I smile in return, unable to stop myself. I may hate the fact that I’m in the same room with Ash Davis, but I love my daddy, and he loves me. So I’ll bask in that for a few minutes.
We all line up at the buffet, which is being served by some of the parents. A local Mexican restaurant sponsored the dinner, so we have enchiladas and beans and rice to eat, as well as a small make-your-own taco bar. I wish I were hungrier, because it smells delicious, and I pile the food on anyway, hoping my appetite returns.
As I make my way back to my table, I spot Ash sitting two tables away from mine. He’s watching me, as usual, his intense dark gaze trailing my every move, his expression serious, and I look away, hating how agitated he makes me feel.
What’s weird is that Ben never makes me feel this way. Edgy and nervous and full of restless energy. Spending time with Ben is like hanging out with a good friend who I can also kiss for like twenty minutes. It’s easy. Fun.
There is nothing easy or fun about Ash.
The more I listen to the girls at the table talk and gossip as we eat dinner, the better I feel. Their energy is endless, and I get swept up in their giggles and gossiping until I’m giggling and gossiping too. I’ve noticed something clicks in your brain at the end of sophomore year, when you realize you need to get serious and focus on your grades and your future. In the last few months, I sort of forgot what it felt like, to be silly and laugh and joke and gossip about boys.
The conversation helps me forget that Ash is even in the same room with us. To the point that when I make my way over to the dessert table all by myself, I find Ash standing next to me not even a minute after I got there.
“Glad you came tonight,” he murmurs, standing way too close to me. “I’ve missed you, friend.”
I grab a small paper plate and set a cupcake on it. Then I take a chocolate chip cookie. I keep thinking my period is going to happen and it doesn’t. I’m in full-on PMS mode. “You haven’t missed me.”
“I totally have. I even dreamed about you last night.” He shifts even closer and bends his head, his mouth right at my ear. “You didn’t kick me out of your house. In my dream, you took me to your bedroom and let me fuck you all night long.”
I really hate his sweet and gross ways.
Oh, I dreamed about you!
Sweet.
I dreamed I was fucking you.
Gross.
He is such a contradiction. I never know what I’m going to get.
“If you’re trying to be romantic, it’s not working.” I grab another cookie. No way am I going to eat all of this.
“I’m not going for romance. We’re friends, right? I’m just keeping it real.” He moves away from me, grinning. “In my dream, you kept saying my name.”
“And I’m sure in your dream, you kept calling me Callahan,” I return dryly.
“How’d you know?” He reaches out, giving me a gentle sock on the upper arm with his fist, and the seemingly innocent touch is like a caress to my Ash-starved soul. “I think you like it that I only call you Callahan.”