Opposite Force

Chapter Twenty-Four

Mikaela Martin | Present

My football knowledge might be seriously limited, but even I know that this game is a huge deal. The Panthers are up against the Hornets, and we hate the Hornets. I'm included in that 'we' now because I'm a football girlfriend. Hating a bunch of people I've never met before is a little weird to me, but I'm just excited to get all hyped-up with Sarah, Crystal, and Annalise, who convinced one of the seniors to give her his designated seat by the field.

I really wish I could call it a dugout seat.

The Hornets' jerseys are the same color as microwave movie theater butter popcorn. In other words, they're atrocious and fitting for the pest that is their namesake. Saying that feels mean, but school spirit wins over morality tonight. Just like the Panthers will beat the Hornets.

It's a contentious game. Two fights have already broken out on the field, and the second quarter isn't even over.

Before tonight, all I knew about Peyton's position is that quarterbacks are important and...that's it. I still don't know much, but I have figured out that their job isn't to run at the other team like Jake and Will do. Thank God for that. The Hornets and Panthers are tackling each other like the football is the last loaf of bread during a zombie apocalypse.

It all looks painful. And sounds painful. Every time yellow and green collide, a chorus of pained grunts makes its way off the field, and Crystal flinches. She's sitting between Sarah and me, gripping our hands. I can feel her nails stabbing holes through my gloves, but I'm not about to make her stop. I know anxiety better than anyone. I could never take away someone's stress ball, even if it's my hand.

Crystal breathes a sigh of relief and releases my numb hand as the second quarter comes to an end with an obnoxious buzzer and an overplayed pop song.

"Here comes your man!" Annalise shouts. For once, her volume is appropriate for the situation. Everyone is cheering and hollering, which doesn't make sense, because the game is tied and there are still two quarters to go.

Peyton jogs over, looking extra sweaty. That's how I know this is true love. I'm willing to kiss him at his sweatiest. I grin up at him. "Hi—"

He doesn't even give me a chance to say his name. He just plants the biggest kiss on my lips and pulls me so close I'm going to be damp with football sweat the rest of the game. Gross. Hopefully Annalise has some extra perfume in her purse.

A "come on!" prompts us to break apart. I flinch at the sound of Jake's angry tone. My knees connect with the bench, I lose my balance, and down I go. I fall through the air, flailing my arms, unable to fight gravity.

This is it. This is the end.

It isn't. Annalise catches me. "What the hell, Jake?" she yells angrily.

He rolls his eyes. "I didn't push her."

"You might as well have," she snaps.

"I'm fine," I assure everyone, not that they were asking.

"Coach wants to talk to us. If you actually listened to your captains, you'd know we're supposed to be over there now, not face-fuck—"

"Jake!" Annalise chastises at the same time Peyton growls, "Shut it."

Jake just rolls his eyes again and glares at me, as if I'm the one who scheduled a game against a football team meaner than actual hornets. "Coach told me to get you. I'm getting you."

"See you after the game, Mikaela," Peyton says softly, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"Bye, Peyton," I murmur.