“Marcus will die,” Tori says.
“That’s the point.” Emma smirks at me. “And you’re going to make Liam regret every decision he’s ever made once he gets a look at you tonight.”
“I don’t want to do that.” I glance down at myself. “Actually, I don’t want him to notice me at all.”
“Those shorts on your long legs are every dude’s wet dream.” Emma walks over to the full-length mirror propped against her wall and checks herself out.
“You look amazing,” Tori reiterates as she tugs on yet another shirt, before going to the mirror to stand behind Emma, trying to see herself. “Don’t make her feel bad, Em.”
“I’m not trying to. Just stating facts.” Emma shifts out of the way of the mirror so Tori can examine herself in her reflection. “I like that shirt best so far.”
It’s black and cropped and shows a lot of Tori’s stomach. She turns this way and that, a small frown forming. “You sure I don’t have back fat?”
“You’re skinnier than all of us. Give me a break. I wish I was as tall as you guys. And had your tits, Addie.”
I glance down at my chest before I return my gaze to hers. “What are you talking about? My tits are nothing spectacular.”
Tori glances over at me. “They’re pretty spectacular. I don’t have any.” She grabs hold of her smallish boobs to indicate just that, making me laugh.
“And mine are too big.” Emma is practically busting out of that tube top. It’s risky, wearing it tonight.
“We are going to a school,” I remind her. “Are you sure they won’t dress-code you?”
“How are they going to bust me for breaking dress code? I don’t even go there.” Emma laughs. “You worry too much.”
And she doesn’t worry enough, though I don’t bother mentioning that to her.
“Should we be wearing Badger gear to cheer them on?” I ask.
“Nah.” Tori shakes her head. “This game doesn’t count, remember? We’ll bust out the spirit wear next week when they play their first real game.”
“True.” I go to the mirror and check myself one last time. My legs do look really long in these shorts.
I hope Beck notices.
I hope Beck likes what he sees too.
By the time we arrive at the high school to watch the game, it’s already halftime, which annoys me, considering I wanted to leave Emma’s house an hour ago. We’re late because of Emma, who took forever doing her makeup and hair when Tori and I were ready way before she was.
After we pay to get in, we go sit in the visitor section, waving at a few people we know, though the bleachers are pretty sparsely filled, mostly with parents and families. People won’t travel for a scrimmage game and I’m sure everyone is thinking they can come to Marcus’ party later and hang out there.
I don’t blame them, but I enjoy watching our team play football—specifically Beck. He’s so good out on that field. So intense and unafraid of anything. He charges forward every single time the call is made, plowing into the other team’s players. Blocking them. Stopping them. Taking them down. It’s fun to watch.
“I’m starving,” Tori grumbles as we settle onto the hard metal benches that are hot to the touch, thanks to the blinding sun that is aimed right at us. “If we’d left like we originally planned, we could’ve stopped and got food.”
“God, how many times do I need to apologize? Go check out their snack bar,” Emma says, waving toward the building in the near distance. There’s a line, so they must be selling something.
“I don’t want to support their football boosters,” Tori says grumpily, propping her elbow on her knee, so she can rest her chin on her fist. “My stomach is literally growling.”
“You’re such a baby,” Emma says as she stands, rubbing her hands across her butt to wipe off any dust. “I’m going to go grab you something.”
Tori sits up straight, beaming. “Thank you, Em.”
“You want anything?” Emma asks me.
I shake my head and hold up my water bottle. “I’m good, thanks.”
Once Emma is gone, Tori kicks out her legs so they rest on the edge of the bleacher below us. “I can’t believe we came all the way out here just to go back to Marcus’ house.”
“You’re just hangry,” I tell her, knocking my shoulder into hers. “It was nice of Emma to get you something.”
“She owes me for making us so late. We paid five bucks to get into the stadium and for what? To watch a lame second half, where they don’t even keep score?”
“I’m sure they’re winning.”
“That’s the problem though. We won’t even know.”
I go silent when I see our team jog back out onto the field. I spot Beck immediately by his number—sixty-four. Though he doesn’t have a helmet on, so I definitely recognize his dark hair, the angles of his familiar face. His hair is longer than he usually wears it and he keeps pushing it away from his forehead as he walks the rest of the way to the sideline, Dom right beside him.
“Oooh, there are our boys.” Tori sits up straighter, a big smile on her face as she lifts her hand to wave at Dom.
He spots her and smiles, nudging Beck in the ribs with his elbow. Now they’re both looking up at us and I sort of want to die, yet I also want to bask in Beck’s attention because, from the look on his face, I’m thinking he’s pleased to see me.
It’s the smile. The way his eyes light up. How he won’t stop looking at me.
Makes me feel like I’m the only person out here.
“I don’t care what anyone says. That boy is totally into you,” Tori murmurs.
“Maybe,” I say, not wanting to get my hopes up too high.
But yeah. I’m thinking Tori might be right.
Can’t deny how excited that makes me feel either.
The last half goes by quickly. Emma and I share a hot dog while Tori completely demolishes hers. We cheer and scream every time one of our boys runs a touchdown in, which is often. Not that it matters, since there’s no score, but we’re having a good time yelling and carrying on.
By the time the game is over, we’ve completely slayed the other team. We run down the sideline of the field, Emma and Tori confident when they approach their boys they’re here for, while I hang back, my gaze on Beck and no one else.
Not even Liam, who I can feel glaring at me as he stands with Danny, both of them eventually giving up and heading for the bus that will take our team home.
“Adds.” Beck walks straight up to me, his hair sweaty and sticking every which way and there’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek. “You came.”
“I said I would.” I smile up at him. “You played well.”
“Even if it was a scrimmage?” His eyes gleam and I know he’s teasing me.
“You guys definitely won,” I reassure him.
“Oh I know. I was keeping track. Up here.” He taps his temple again, like he did yesterday.
I can’t believe that moment was only yesterday. It feels like a lot has happened. A lot has changed in the past forty-eight hours. Crap, I went on a date with Liam last night.