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That was it.
The man’s a real mystery, but I love him with my whole heart.
He glances up from his clipboard and waves at me and Gracelyn. I shoot him a smile and a thumbs-up and then Grace and I climb into the bleachers, snagging the seats next to Meg.
“Is Langley excited about his first game? I heard my dad tapped him to be QB One.” I squeeze her knee and the corners of her lips tip up in a smile.
“He is. A little nervous, but not half as nervous as me.”
Good thing, too, because Meg’s toe is tapping a mile a minute, shaking the entire metal bleacher. I hope Langley has a lot more composure than his mom.
A cool breeze kicks up, a nice change from the brutal August heat, and the band marches onto the field. The Thunder Creek theme song rolls through the stadium and all the students and alum sing along. The drumline raps on their drums and the cheerleaders line up in two parallel lines, shaking their blue and white pom-poms.
“Thunder Creek, stand up and cheer for your starting line-up!” The announcer’s voice booms through the speakers and everyone jumps up from the stands, cheering and screaming.
“Playing Quarterback this season is Beau Langley!”
Meg whistles and claps as Langley jogs through the pom-pom line, waving at the crowd. The rest of the team is announced one by one and then the Lightning Ridge cheerleaders cartwheel onto the field to cheer on the opposing team.
Finally, both teams take the field and the game begins. The first play is an easy pass down the center and we gaina solid thirty yards. Next, we run a slant route for another thirty yards.
“Langley’s doing great!” I shout to Meg and she nods, her eyes not leaving the field.
The next play doesn’t move the ball forward, so now we’re on second down. My dad’s pressing his headset and making calls. The team lines up in formation and Langley throws a perfect spiral down the field to his wide receiver. Number 45 leaps into the air, catching the ball and running it into the end zone for a touchdown.
Meg leaps off the bleachers, screaming and cheering for her son. Gracelyn and I jump up and hug each other as the crowd goes wild.
“Thunder Creek’s in the lead, 6-0.”
My dad consults with Coach Baker and calls the next play. We go for two and convert.
“Yes!” Grace, Meg, and I all high-five and the excitement in the stadium’s palpable.
Lightning Ridge’s offense lines up and they march down the field, making good plays and gaining yardage. Coach Mack’s red-faced, fists balled at his side. Meg’s fiddling with her necklace and Grace is so close to the edge of the bleacher she may fall off.
The quarterback lifts his arm, reading the field, and fires off the ball. The defensive back to the right sees the play and jumps into the air.
“Yes!” I scream as the player surges forward, picking the ball and scoring another touchdown.
“Thunder Creek 14, Lightning Ridge 0,” the announcer booms and the crowd cheers so loud the entire stadium rumbles.
Lightning Ridge holds us off on the next set of plays, managing to finally score. Then it’s halftime and the bandand cheerleaders rush onto the field, music playing and legs kicking high in the air. The team retreats to the locker room for one of my dad’s signature pep talks and Gracelyn and I take the opportunity to head down to the concession stand and grab snacks.
And run straight into Jamie.
“Oh hey, girls. Fancy meeting you two here—Mommy give you a night off, Gracelyn?” Jamie arches her brow, smirking. “And Sloane. Here all alone. What a shocker.”
I bristle and Grace straightens her shoulders, fists clenched as she steps toward Jamie. Luckily, I’m close enough to grab one of Grace’s belt loops, holding her back.
“Shut up, Jamie,” Grace hisses and Jamie laughs, flipping her scarlet hair over her shoulder.
“Oh, must have a struck a nerve.” She fixes her gaze on Grace and I wonder if I should call security or something before the two of them launch into a catfight.
“Why don’t you scurry along, like the dirty rat you are?” Gracelyn waves a hand in Jamie’s direction, shooing her away. But Jamie just bats her lashes and acts all innocent.
“So harsh, Gracelyn. It’s like you don’t remember anything at all you learned in cotillion.”
“Like you’d know anything about that, Jamie. You were too busy going down on the entire basketball team to make it to cotillion class.” Gracelyn folds her arms over her chest, her skin flushing pink.
