“Since you weren’t here, I took the lead. We did cardio and weights.”
I smeared a smile on my face to mask my annoyance. The coaching staff was in charge, not me, and certainly not her. Why was she taking credit for it?
“Okay,” I said. “How long have you all been working on stunts?”
“About twenty minutes . . . more than you.” Lisa’s resting-bitch-face turned into active-bitch-face. “Where were you, Captain?”
I knew I should tell the squad, but I’d made it much worse on myself by letting so much time go by. How the hell could I tell them now? It was bad enough I was more than an hour late to practice. Admitting it was because I’d overslept in a Michigan dorm room was insult to injury. Today was not the day to come clean. I’d get back on stable ground before taking that hit and being labelled a traitor.
“I was visiting a friend out of town,” I said through clenched teeth, glaring at Lisa, “and I got on the road late.”
Victory flashed in her eyes. She was thrilled she could keep holding the secret over me.
I tried to ignore her and turned to the group. “Okay, which would you rather I do, one pushup for every minute I was late, or one sit-up?”
Lisa’s answer was immediate. “Both.”
All right. Maybe Lisa could just drop dead.
When practice was over, I grabbed my stuff and slugged toward the parking lot. Even though we’d slept in late, Jay’s floor wasn’t all that comfortable, and I’d realized at three a.m. that sleeping beside him was the equivalent of being strapped to a furnace. I’d squirmed out of his hold, only to wake up later in his powerful arms. He’d chased me across the rug, as if needing me near.
I was tired and hangry, so when I came out of the fieldhouse doors and discovered Lisa lying in wait for me, I sighed loudly. “You need something?”
“Yeah,” she said, releasing her dark hair from her ponytail and fluffing it out. “I want to be staged in the front line, and center, for the Northwestern game next week. You know, the place where all the ESPN cameras are.”
I came into the apartment, dropped my bag, and flopped down into one of the chairs. Chuck sat on the couch, his silver sousaphone disassembled in his lap. He glanced at my overnight bag, and went back to his task of cleaning his instrument, sliding a rag through one of the valves.
There was no judgement from my friend about where I’d spent the night.
“I went to the Michigan game yesterday,” I blurted out.
His movements slowed to a stop.
“How many times,” I asked, “can I sleep with a guy before he becomes, like, my common-law boyfriend?”
Chuck considered the question as if it was valid. “Four?” He set the part to the side and focused on me. “Holy shit, Kayla. He got you to go to Michigan. That’s huge.”
“And I met his parents.” I frowned. “This is insane. I can’t have a boyfriend who’s a Wolverine.”
“Kind of sounds like you do, though.”
I leaned forward and rested my forehead in my hands. “You’re the only one who knows. If I tell the squad, I’ll be branded a traitor. Lisa will use it to take away my captain spot.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, time to be real.” His expression turned serious. “I know your mom brainwashed you into thinking the rivalry is this big freaking deal, but to most of us, it’s not. You dating a guy from Michigan is not the end of the world.”
“So, you’re saying my parents won’t act like that when I tell them?” I couldn’t help but patronize. Chuck knew my family almost as well as he knew me.
He looked resigned. “I’m not saying it’ll go over well, but Kayla, you gotta think positively and tell them. Don’t wait until you and Jay send out wedding invites.”
“What the hell?”
He shot me a pointed look. “You went to a Michigan game voluntarily. I mean, it was voluntary, right? He doesn’t have you under mind control?”
I pressed my lips together.
Chuck picked up the valve and the rag. “Then, you’ve got to have some pretty strong feelings about him.”
He was right, but I didn’t have to like it. My parents were going to lose their minds when I told them.
My phone rang, and when Jay’s name flashed on the screen, my stomach turned upside-down. I was excited to talk to him, but things were changing. Everything was moving too fast. “Hello?”
“Hey. Did you make it to practice okay?”
I chewed on my lip for a moment. “I was really late, but everyone was cool about it.” Well, everyone except Lisa. “Sorry I forgot to call.”
“It’s okay. Uh, what’s that noise?”
I watched Chuck thread his rag through another valve. “Chuck’s polishing his sousaphone.”
“What the fuck?” Jay’s voice was horror. “He’s jerking off right now? Dude, not cool.”
Oh my God! I was overcome with giggles. “No, no. He plays sousaphone in the marching band.”
“Oh.” It was quiet for a moment. “Thank fuck. For a second there, I was thinking it was time to find a new roommate.”
“Is that Jay?” Chuck asked. “Tell him I can’t wait to make Michigan our ‘Bitch-igan.’”
No new roommate for me. I liked the one I had just fine.
Michigan had their bye this week, but Jay had practice, and didn’t respond when I texted him to gloat. Postgame ran long, and by the time I met my family at the Buckeye Bar, I was ready to get out of my cheerleading uniform. The Northwestern game had been a blowout, and the crowd at the bar was riding the high of the win. It had been a late game, and I’d been tired when I sat down at the table, but the jovial atmosphere was giving me a fresh wave of energy.
As soon as dinner was served and my dad had another beer in him, I’d drop the bomb about ‘Jason.’
“Six and oh,” my dad said proudly, and the rest of the family nodded in agreement.
This season was off to such an amazing start. Perfect. In fact, the only thing that needed to be changed was our standing in the polls. Michigan was still ranked number one.
I dropped my menu on the table and looked at my dad. “Too bad that other school is undefeat—”
Oh.
No.
My muscles froze in place. My body refused to function. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even blink as my gaze sharpened on the tall, handsome football player at the front door. He’d spotted me through the crowd of people and made his way toward our table.
I had twenty seconds, tops. I sat there, dumbfounded.
Seventeen seconds now to form a plan. What the hell was he doing here?
Time spun away as he closed in.
Ten seconds. I was trapped on the inside of the booth by my mother, and I turned to her, panicked. “I need out.”
This couldn’t happen. As I put my hand on my mom’s shoulder and began to shove, I cursed the stupid universe. I was going to break it to them tonight. It needed to be handled delicately, and his sudden appearance would be a sledgehammer.
“Just a second, Kayla.” My mom was exasperated and she moved slower than Northwestern’s offense had today.