WE WERE HALFWAY into the third quarter, but the team was up by more than twenty points. Even the cheerleaders seemed a little bored with the game, and the crowd had resorted to chattering with each other instead of intensely cheering for the team like they had last time.
“So, this weekend,” Jordan said. “What are we doing for Operation Cupcake?”
“Operation Cupcake?” I asked. “Really?” “I like it,” Ginger said.
“We’ve got to make him come to her,” Zara said. “We know he wants some of what she has to offer.” She nudged my shoulder, waggling her eyebrows at me. “Now we’ve got to make him ask for it.”
“And why would he ask for it when I look like this”—I gestured to my thick hoodie, coat, hat, and blanket covering me—”and they look like that?” I pointed at the cheerleaders in their tight winter gear, their ponytails and bows high over warm headbands. “There’s no contest.”
Ginger shook her head. “Dude, at least it’s not summer when they’re showing off their underwear—I mean—bloomers for the entire student body to see.”
“That’s a fair point,” Jordan said.
Zara shook her head. “You’re missing the point. Ror’s leaving something to the imagination. And what happens when a present’s wrapped?” She paused and grinned. “They can’t wait to rip off the paper.”
My cheeks pinked from embarrassment instead of the cold. Ripping off clothes was about a million and one lightyears ahead of where I was. Just a kiss and some handholding and I’d die happy.
The buzzer went off, and Jordan let out a sigh of relief. “Finally. I gotta go, guys. My boyfriend wants to hang out.”
We hugged her goodbye before joining Callie on the field. The stadium lights shined down on us, glinting off her band uniform buttons.
She grinned at us. “I bet Beckett is going to be in a good mood.”
As if punctuating her point, Carson came over and lifted her in the air, spinning her in a circle. “We crushed them.”
She giggled as he set her down, but my mind was still reeling. Football guys were strong. Would Beckett be able to lift me, even though I was larger than other girls?
He was surrounded now, friends congratulating him on his beautiful passes and an eighty-yard run into the end zone. I would never get tired of watching the way he bashfully accepted praise.
Someone in a jacket sporting a college logo stepped forward. I couldn’t hear his words, but soon everyone backed away from them, and my eyes followed them as they spoke. The man put his hand on Beckett’s shoulder, and Beckett’s eyes turned toward the ground, serious, as he nodded.
The man passed him a business card, which Beckett tucked into the pouch around his waist. He turned his gaze up and caught my eyes.
I quickly looked away and turned back toward my friends, trying to focus on the conversation they were having about Carson’s play and whether the marching band’s version of the Drafters’ pen mascot looked like a penis instead.
Still, I couldn’t deny the feeling of Beckett’s eyes on me.
Carson said the team was going to the diner again for shakes, so we decided another girls’ night at Zara’s was in order.
We left the dwindling crowd on the football field and headed toward the parking lot. That is, until someone called my name.
“Rory!”
I blinked, not believing this.
In front of all the people walking past us, Beckett was calling for me. When he reached me, he said hi, pulling off his football glove, and ran his hand through damp hair.
“Are you cold?” I blurted.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Still pretty warm from the game.” I nodded, searching for the right words. Oh! “Good game.”
“Thanks.” His smile could have melted the sun, but he’d turned it on me. I was a goner.
“Anytime.”
Silence fell between us, and I tried not to notice all the eyes bugging out as they walked past us, until…
Merritt put a hand on Beckett’s muscled arm. “Hey, are you coming to Waldo’s?”
Beckett sidestepped her touch and looked at me. “If Rory wants to come with?”
Looking between the two of them was just too painful. Too big of a reminder that I was intruding on a world where I didn’t belong—where Merritt would do anything to make sure I stayed away.
I shook my head. “That’s okay. You guys have fun.”
Merritt gave a triumphant smile. “So, I’ll see you there, Becks?”
I gave a clipped wave and continued toward my car, fighting disappointment. So it didn’t happen tonight. He came and talked to me. That was a win. A big one. Another strategy session and we could make even more progress—as long as Merritt didn’t derail it tonight.
“Cupcake, wait up.”
My mouth went slack. Beckett had used his nickname for me? In front of everyone?
I turned to see him and caught a glimpse of Merritt’s shocked glare. It was hard to manage shock and anger at the same time, but she had it mastered.
Beckett was oblivious to that fact, though, as he touched my arm and said, “Do you want to go to Waldo’s with us?”
“I—” No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t say yes. I shook my head. Eating a milkshake in front of the football guys was just too much material for them to use against me. “Sorry, I don’t think it’s my scene.”
“Ah, too cool for us,” he chuckled.
I rolled my eyes. “That’s it. Definitely.”
He shrugged. “No biggie. We’ll do something else?” Now it was my turn to be shocked. “Wh-what?” “Meet me by the lockers?” he said. “I’ll be quick.”
Before I could respond, he’d jogged away toward the school and left me, mouth gaping, brain empty, and stomach swirling with excitement.
This was happening. Now.
