Eight Years

Coach let us go early today, ending the practice half an hour earlier than normal normal. So, our team decides to go watch the football players sweat on the field, chasing down each other with the pigskin.

We're all still wearing our uniforms when we step outside, coach wanted to see how our choreography for an upcoming competition would look completed with the skirts and tops.

Amy hoops her arm around mine as we take seats on the bleachers, the guys noticing us and some of them waving or shouting something, making a couple freshmen girls giggle behind their hands.

"Don't tell me we were ever anything like that," Amy says and rolls her eyes, her hands running up and down her legs to warm her up against the cool breeze.

I look down a couple rows at the freshmen, their hands cupped around their mouths as they whisper stuff into each other's ear. They giggle again, and look back at the field to where the guys are running.

Their laughter quickly stops when the players throw their helmets off and rip their jerseys and gear off, leaving them in only in the pants that reach their knees. Mouths hanging open, the girls trade looks, their whole faces heating up by the looks of the rosy blush spreading everywhere.

A couple dozen bodies, sweat glistening on their bare chests and abs, run down to the side of the field we're at, and grab their water bottles on the benches. Hunter winks at the freshmen before squirting water all over his chest, making a show of rubbing it all over his tight abs.

I hear the blonde girl gasp and turn to see her friend's reaction, jaw laying somewhere on the grass.

"We were exactly like that," I tell Amy, both of us breaking out in a laugh. "If not even worse."

It's not like I've gotten used to and bored with the view or something, I've just seen the guys half naked on the field so many times that my mouth doesn't fall open in surprise anymore.

I turn back to the field, immediately meeting someone's eyes. Like my mind knew where he was standing, squeezing water out of his bottle into his mouth, never breaking eye contact with me.

"Looking good, Barry," Jaxon shouts, smirks, and turns back to the field when the coach calls for the guys to continue.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Amy grinning at the side of my face as I watch Jax run down the field, his toned body like one of a Greek God's.

"There's no way you're not completely in love with him." She sighs. "All the flirting, and traded looks, and staring at him running down the field, abs glistening in the sun. And don't even get me started on the kiss at the carnival."

My eyes jerk to hers, narrowing. "How do you know about that?" I never told her.

A smirk on her lips, she leans forward with her forearms on her knees, and tilts her head to the side like I'm stupid. "It's not like you were doing it in private, with no one to see. In fact, I think everyone turned to look when the children in the other cups started screaming and fake gagging."

My whole face heats up in embarrassment, and I can feel a blush spreading down my neck. "Shit." I drop my face in my hands.

Twenty minutes later the coach ends the practice and lets everyone go home. The guys run down the field to grab their stuff, while the girls get down from the bleachers, everyone heading back into the building to get to the locker rooms.

I stay a little behind from the others as they all push through the double doors at the same time. I gather my hair up into a ponytail, but get startled when a hot breath hits my bare neck, rising goosebumps down my arms and back.