Beauty is a Disease

𝕋ℍ𝕀ℝ𝕋𝔼𝔼ℕ

About 15 minutes in the car, we arrived at the burger place and no doubt, it was packed full to the brim with rowdy boys, giggling cheerleaders, and happy students that just came from the game.

The second Sam and I stepped inside, people cheered and hollard, my ears ringing from the game and now this.

"C'mon," Sam pulled me to a booth that had two other people that I didn't know. One was wearing a jersey, so he must be on the team and other wearing a cheer outfit.

"Noah," Sam greeted with a handshake over the table.

I sat down awkwardly, crossing my legs and putting my hands in between them.

I felt out of place here, with all these people that I simply just want to school with.

"This is Haleigh," Sam introduced me. I gave a small smile, still unsure of what to do.

"Haleigh, hey. Noah."

"Hi," I responded softly.

"Don't be scared," Sam whispered in my ear, "he's a good guy."

I looked at him, still feeling like an outsider.

"Hi Haleigh," the girl across from me said with a bright smile, "I'm Peyton, nice to meet you."

"You too."

I look over to Sam, hoping he could help me out with this, but he's in a conversation about the game. I listen in, "but man, that play you ran. Best play of the night, that set us up to score."

Sam waved it off, "nah, I didn't the ball over the line."

"Hey," I nudged him, "he's right. That catch, perfection. And you ran it down to the 21 yard line."

"She speaks football," Noah said, not a question, a statement.

I roll my eyes, "I speak football?"

"Yeah, that's impressive."

I laugh a little, "I've been watching football since I was an hour old. I was born on a Monday and my dad couldn't miss that game, so he turned on the game right in the hospital room and we were watching football right there. Watched pretty much every game since."

"Dude," Noah directed this at Sam. "She's a keeper."

Sam and I both laughed.

"That she is." What?

I stopped laughing.

"Anyway," Noah eyes danced. I stopped listening when Peyton tapped my arm--

"You and Sam, eh?" she nodded her head in his direction.

I shook my head with a light laugh, "no, we aren't together."

"Your top says otherwise."

I completely forgot I was wearing Sam's jersey. I looked down at it, the white lettering fading, and dirty, didn't matter how many times you washed it. I smiled at her, "I don't really think I'm his type."

She rolled her eyes, "not his type? Haleigh, Sam is a guy that doesn't have a type. He needs a girl who's a good person and that's it. But if he did have a type, it would be you. A guy doesn't just let some random girl wear his number, right?"

She was right, but I can still only think about how Sam probably only wanted me to wear this in a friendly kind of way.

For the next three hours, Peyton and I talked, Noah and Sam talked, we ate and Sam did not disappoint on his promise. The burgers were amazing. The fries were just as good and the milkshakes were to die for.