place. I wasn’t prepared to tell Erin her pseudo-boyfriend was a womanizing jerk. Not yet anyway. Homecoming was supposed to be fun. I didn’t want to spoil the night for her, or anyone else, and that was sure to happen if I spilled the beans about the situation. I had no choice. I had to lie.
“Oh. It was nothing. He said one of the guys,” I scrunched up my nose, pretending I couldn’t remember the name, “wants me to wear his spare jersey during the game and to the dance. I think he said his name was Jessie.” My stomach dropped and my chest ached. I was a damn, dirty liar and a horrible person.
Erin pursed her lips and shook her head. She looked to Tayla and Claire. “Jessie. Jessie… is there a guy on varsity named Jessie?” They conferred amongst themselves, trying to figure out who the fake guy was that wanted me to wear his jersey.
I smiled and shrugged as they offered up other names, playing the entire thing off like a pro. The homecoming floats slowly made their way around the track, distracting my excited friends from my possible admirer, and I breathed a sigh of relief, hoping the entire subject had been squashed.
Back sore from a hard week at the gym and the zero support provided by the aging bleachers, I stretched my arms high and twisted in my seat to crack my back.
That’s when I saw her. Callie. Seated two rows up, staring at me as though she’d like to flay the skin from my body and fashion a hat from it. Had she seen Eli talking to me? Had she heard our conversation?
She raised a haughty brow and smiled at me as though she were in on a juicy secret.
Crap. I whirled around just as the junior class’s float rolled by. I stood from my seat along with everyone else, the roar of the crowd taking a back seat to the rapid pulse pounding in my ears. Calliehad witnessed my entire conversation with Eli.
This did not bode well for me at all.
Chapter Nine
Status update: Dr. Phil ain’t got nuthin on me…
Oddly enough, despite the fact that I trained for years as an elite level gymnast, I wasn’t a fan of most organized sports. Football? Soccer? Baseball? Yeah, so not my thing. But even I, proclaimed hater of testosterone-fueled sporting events, had to admit it had been an exciting game.
Grant High took the win with a score of twenty-four to twenty-one. The Spartans had been down for the first three quarters until Eli, Mr. Football God, ran the winning touchdown before the clock ran out in the fourth. Seniors won the float competition for Spirit Week, a brawl between over-excited students took place near the Spartan Snack Shack, and a highly inebriated couple from the sophomore class had been escorted from school property after they were caught getting jiggy with it beneath the stands. Time and place, people. Time and place.
Even more astonishing than the game and the exciting post-coital ruckus was seeing Bodie on the field, watching each play alongside the coaches. A surge of relief coursed through me the moment I’d seen him standing on the sidelines, face animated, yelling excitedly when a play went well. I knew he was okay; I’d seen him as I exited the classroom earlier, sitting and talking with the nurse. Still, this new, happier Bodie was a refreshing change from the one I’d grown accustomed to, and a welcome vision to drown out the vulnerable, seizing picture of him I’d been replaying all day.
A gentle breeze wisped through my bangs and sent a chill through me as I followed Erin and the girls toward the gymnasium. The dance had begun midway through the final quarter for those who didn’t wish to watch the game, and the loud bass music blasted clear across the large campus.
Livvie had informed me she planned on spending the latter half of the evening with her new “boo thang” J.P. I squinted and strained my neck trying to find her in the large crowd currently migrating toward the gym, but had zero luck locating her. It didn’t bother me that she’d ditched us for a
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