𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐈 ─────⋆⋅★𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯

𝟎𝟑. 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞

The stands were packed, the energy of the football game pulsing through the air as Kildare Academy clashed with County High School. Isla huddled next to Dean on the bleachers, trying to tune out the chaotic noise around her. Sarah had insisted they come to watch her cheer, and Isla had begrudgingly agreed. With her parents away yet again on another "business trip," there was little point in staying home. She was used to it by now—her parents' frequent trips and last-minute cancellations, leaving her feeling like an afterthought.

"Let's just hope Sarah doesn't drop anyone this time," Dean muttered with a grin as he scanned the field.

"Please," Isla replied with a small laugh, "she's been practicing nonstop. But if she does, we'll have front-row seats to the disaster."

They both leaned back, watching as the cheerleaders formed up along the sidelines, Sarah at the center. 

"Alright, Blackwell," Dean said with a sly grin, nudging her shoulder, "it's time. Marry, kiss, or kill."

She rolled her eyes, laughing despite herself. "You're seriously playing that now?"

"Absolutely. It's a great way to pass the time. Plus, I'm genuinely curious." He gave her an exaggerated wink. "Okay, first round. Topper, Pope, and...hmmm..."

Dean smirked, but before he could comment, he leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Alright, Topper, Pope... and Rafe."

Isla's face heated immediately, and she gave Dean a playful shove. "Dean!"

"Oh, come on! It's a fair question," he teased, crossing his arms and watching her, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

She glanced down, rolling her eyes. "Fine. Kill... Topper, I guess."

Dean let out an exaggerated gasp. "Poor Tops, never stood a chance."

"And..." Isla hesitated, glancing toward the field where the cheerleaders were forming up. "Kiss Pope. And—"

But just as she was about to finish, a loud commotion caught her attention. She looked up to see Sarah fumbling during a lift, her grip slipping, and a split second later, one of the cheerleaders stumbled down with a small yelp. The crowd collectively winced, and Sarah's face twisted with panic as she caught Isla's eye and motioned for her.

Dean snorted. "And there it is."

Sure enough, during a time-out, Sarah rushed over to them, her eyes wide and desperate. "Isla! I need you to fill in."

Isla blinked. "What? No way, Sarah. I'm not a cheerleader!"

"Please, you do ballet!" Sarah begged, hands clasped in front of her. "Rachel's ankle is done. She can't get back out there, and if I don't have a replacement, Coach will freak. It's just for this game, Isla, I swear!"

Isla groaned, glancing at Dean, who shrugged with a smirk. "Go on, Isla. Make us proud."

Rolling her eyes, Isla relented, letting Sarah drag her toward the gym to grab a spare uniform. Isla quickly changed in the bathroom, pulling her hair back into a high ponytail as she grumbled to herself. She tugged at the pleated skirt, feeling thoroughly out of her element.

As she rushed back toward the field, she collided with someone in the hall. She stumbled slightly, looking up to see a guy with tousled blond hair, an amused smirk on his face as he took her in. He looked completely out of place in Kildare Academy's pristine hallways, wearing a faded t-shirt and ripped jeans with a laid-back ease that made him stand out.

"Whoa, slow down there," he said, his voice a drawl but his eyes curious. "In a rush, are we?"

"Yeah, sorry," Isla replied, feeling her cheeks heat up as she brushed past him, ponytail bouncing as she jogged toward the field.