Until We Meet Again

Chapter One: Almost, Maybe, Yes

Autumn, 1943. The air is crisp, carrying that unmistakable mix of upcoming winter and fallen leaves. Ridgeview High is buzzing with excitement, and even though the war looms in the back of our minds, today is all about Homecoming Game. Our last Homecoming Game. It's my senior year, and I will make it count.

I tug on my cheerleading skirt, ensuring it sits just right, the red and white as bright as I've ever seen. There's nothing quite like these game nights, everyone packed into the stands, the band playing loud enough to shake the bleachers, and the way it feels like all the worries of the world disappear, just for a little while.

People call me the most popular girl at Ridgeview, and I still don't understand why. I've never done anything special, just cheer captain, head of the yearbook, the usual things. But somehow, everyone seems to think I'm something more. It's funny; they don't really know me, and yet they have me all figured out. Or so they think.

"Maggie, you ready?" Rose nudges my shoulder, her eyes sparkling as she finishes lacing up her sneakers.

I give her a grin, grabbing my pom-poms. "Ready as I'll ever be."

We head toward the field, and as we step outside, the energy hits me all at once. The band is warming up, playing our entrance song, and it feels like the whole school is out here, all waiting for the game to start. My friends and I walk past the bleachers, where students, families, and teachers are piling in, bundled up in coats and scarves against the autumn chill. The cheerleading team settles on the sidelines, giddily chatting to one another. I spot the football team on the field, huddled up and hyped, and there, right at the center, is Andrew. Andrew Windsor.

Tall, easygoing, and always with that self-assured grin like he's already won, Andrew has been asking me out for what feels like ages. Funny enough, it has been. He has been desperate for my attention since middle school. And every time, I've said no, rolling my eyes, brushing it off like it doesn't mean anything. But lately, I'm not so sure. Maybe it's that smile. Or the way he looks at me like he sees right through the "good girl" reputation everyone chooses to see. Andrew is standing with his teammates, helmet tucked under one arm. He scans the crowd like he's searching for someone, and just when I think he'll look away, his eyes land right on me. A slow, crooked grin spreads across his face, and then, as if he's got all the time in the world, he lifts his hand and gives me a lazy wave.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," I mutter, trying to hide the stupid grin on my face. But Rose catches me immediately, nudging my shoulder.

"Oh my goodness! Margaret Carmichael, is that what's got you in such a lather? Look at you, he's got you blushing like a June bride!"

I roll my eyes, but I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. "Oh, quit razzing me. He's just fooling around," I say, trying to brush it off. But Rose only gets more giddy, waving her pom-pom in my face.

"Fooling around? Oh, honey, that boy's been making moony eyes at you since grade school!" Rose giggles, leaning in conspiratorially. "I swear, if you don't give that poor fella a chance, he's gonna think you're playing hard-to-get on purpose."

"Oh, honestly," I scoff, though I can't stop myself from glancing back at him. Andrew gives me another grin, and I feel my heart do a silly little skip. "He's just a flirt, Rose. Nothing but a player."

Rose throws her head back and laughs. "A flirt who's got eyes for you, doll. You can't tell me you're not sweet on him, just a little bit?"

I sigh, unable to hide my smile. "Well... maybe just a smidge. But don't you go putting ideas in his head!"

She winks. "Too late, Maggie. If you and that boy keep eyeing one another like that, Principal Duffy's gonna put you on opposite sides of the field."