Camryn Quinn is finally getting what she wants...sort of. Moving into a dorm and away from her not so supportive father is a good first step, but like everything with him, it comes with strings. She must attend the college of his choosing for at lea...
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Alyssa and I push our way through a sea of red and gray, somehow managing to only lose each once. I death grip the ticket window counter when I finally make it and yank Alyssa's hand the rest of the way through the crowd.
"Good God! It's like these people have never been in public before!" She screams over the music blaring from a nearby tailgate speaker.
I throw a nod in the direction of tents and smoke from hundreds of burgers being grilled throughout the parking lot. "It's like hell, but instead it's just the same type of person copied and pasted over and over again for miles."
We slide our respective media placards over our heads, and head towards security. I didn't bother to tell my dad I'd be on the field today, and I'm hoping that I can sneak on and off without him being tipped off.
Except leaving the field means I have to join Alyssa in the WAG's box.
"It's really exclusive," she explains for the hundredth time as she leads me towards the section.
"And why do I care?"
"And you call yourself a reality TV connoisseur." She clicks her tongue. "We're the wives and girlfriends of the players. And thanks to social media, we get enough attention to be given free things."
Alyssa gracefully pulls me through the crowd now having found her footing inside the stadium. She leads me as if it's nothing more than an extension of her home. I begin to question it all again and the look she shoots me could kill me if the speed in her step wasn't throwing off her aim.
I already knew I didn't belong here, but it's a fact that is only solidified when we reach the suites on the third level and a sign is hanging next to the door. It's a group photo with the acronym WAGs printed in block letters beneath it. It must be a recent photo because I spotted Alyssa on a far end. She and Anderson have only known each other for a couple of months, and officially dating for a lot less than that.
The usher standing guard outside gladly opens the door for us, and Alyssa struts through with a confidence I can only dream of. The box is filled with roughly twenty females in various shades of bronde. They're arranged around the room perfectly, as if it's a rule that you can't socialize in groups of more than five to ensure no girl is left out.
My eyes bounce from small group to small group and it's like each one is just a slightly different version of the next. Aside from height and shoe choice, every single WAG is wearing a jacket similar to Alyssa's. Their jean jackets are some variation of the school's scarlet and gray colors, with their boyfriends names jeweled across the back.
"I don't think I'm allowed in without a jacket."
"I'll make you one!"
"I'm not a WAG."
"You may as well be," Alyssa shrugs and pushes me further in the room. "I've seen the way you and Taylor look at each other."
I haven't told her about the kiss yet, but I think it was pretty obvious something happened when I found her afterwards to head back to our dorm. My lips were swollen and curls disheveled from having Taylor's hands running through them. We stayed linked like that for far longer than I anticipated when I initiated it. And I think Taylor was just as caught off guard. He practically sprinted in the direction of the team shuttle when they made a last call for players.
