Opposite Force

Chapter Nine

Mikaela Martin | Present

I'm pale as a ghost beneath the floodlights shining over the benches where the Panthers rest and wait their turns to play. There's probably a more technical term for this location, but I have no idea what it is. I just know that it's not the dugout. Dugouts are exclusive to baseball, apparently. Sarah set me straight on that one.

Thank God she did, because being here is high stakes. Sarah, the football seniors' girlfriends, and I are huddled up on a bench across from the center of the field, which means we have front row seats to Peyton and Robbie's game. For the first time in my life, I'm paying attention to a sporting event.

I never thought I'd feel included around cool people, but tonight, I actually do. I'm at the end of the bench, of course, but on Sarah's other side is Crystal Hannity (no relation to the crazy Fox News guy, at least not that I'm aware of), who's really sweet and keeps trying to involve me in their conversation. And I'm participating. Nervously, but still, nervous participation counts.

I've always hated the 'nerd girl only realizes her worth when the popular boy pays attention to her' trope, but I kind of get it now. Hanging out with Peyton and Robbie and Crystal is making me realize that my perceptions of how other people see me might have been wrong. Everyone is friendly and acts like they want to hang out with me. No one but Jake seems to find my presence a burden.

Maybe I've been misreading my classmates and they don't view me as a nerdy nobody. Either that, or they're just now realizing that I'm a human because Peyton thinks I am, but I really want to believe that it's the first one.

The crowd erupts into cheers, plucking me from my philosophical musings. Crystal and Sarah squeal and clap as the Panthers jump around the field, radiating excitement and testosterone. I think that means they scored a touchdown. I don't know what else football players get all hyped up about.

I watched three hours' worth of YouTube videos about football last night, and I still have little to no idea what's going on. That dumb jock stereotype can't be farther from the truth. Football might be the most confusing sport in the universe.

"Was that a touchdown?" I whisper to Sarah once the chaos finally settles down.

She snorts. "Yes. Yes, it was."

"Finally. Someone else who doesn't get football!" Crystal exclaims.

"Guys, if someone runs the ball into the endzone, that means it's probably a touchdown. If they're wearing a green shirt, clap," Sarah mutters.

Crystal and I shrug. "I've been watching Will's games for two years now, and I still don't know what's going on most of the time," she says.

"All I know is Peyton is twelve and the Panthers have green uniforms," I admit. The three hours of research didn't amount to much.

Sarah shakes her head in mock—or maybe real—disappointment, but Crystal grins widely. "Is that new? Are you guys together?"

My cheeks burn up. "We're hanging out," I reply. That's my go-to response for all the questions I've been getting about Peyton.

"They're going to fall formal together," Sarah chimes in.

"Yay!" Crystal squeals. "Sarah, are you going with Robbie? We should all take pictures together before."

"Yeah, I am. Love that idea," Sarah gushes. "Do you have plans, Mikaela?"

I never have plans. "No, that sounds good," I say, smiling like an idiot. I think I have a new friend. A cool new friend, who's really nice and thinks I'm worthy of hanging out with. I'm awkward and I've stumbled over my words half a million times tonight, but Crystal still wants my company.