"Go Connor! Grab the ball!" I holler as loud as I can. Judging by the decibels of the crowd cheers, it seems that Connor will never hear me.
The countdown from the audience starts: fifteen seconds to the end of the game.
"Connor, is that your boyfriend?" the old man beside me asks. His teeth has a funky brown discoloring, and I immediately avert my eyes away from them.
"Yeah," I say hoarsely to him, before resuming my screams.
I'm on the bleachers, shouting Connor's name when he grabs the basketball from his opponents.
Seven seconds.
He holds it in his hands for a second, before tossing it towards the basket. The ball balances on the rim, and I feel the silence hang in the air, as if the whole crowd is filled with anticipation.
The ball goes through the basket; the whole hall is erupted into applause and whoops.
Even though I'm way too far to see his expression, I'm pretty sure the boy wearing jersey number 13 must be feeling proud of himself.
"Yeah, that's how you do it, Connor Murphy! We won!" I pump the air with my fist.
"In case you don't know, Georgie, you're shouting in my ears," Ava says, turning around and looking at me. Beside her, sitting in front of me is Nathan who has been forced to watch this basketball match.
"Connor's not bad, huh," Nathan responds, as he adds another popcorn into his mouth.
"Not bad? He's brilliant!" I announce, and the old man beside me gives me another one of his disconcerting grins.
I pretend not to notice, instead fixating my gaze ahead. With victorious beaming faces, the North Shore basketball team swaggers over to the side of the basketball court, where several chairs have been laid out for them.
Unfortunately, or fortunately for some of the boys, where they're seated is conveniently in front of the cheerleaders. Which means it's flirting time for them.
To the boys who, for the past two hours have been seeing nothing but pubescent sweaty opponents, I'm sure they appreciate the mix of estrogen in the air.
With none other than Charlotte Hayes leading the cheerleading squad in her ultra-slutty blue striped miniskirt, it isn't hard to guess where the basketball boys' eyes are directed.
Heck, even the opponents are eyeing Charlotte, probably waiting for the one wrong move that would make her underwear this afternoon's entertainment.
Wait, add the old man into the list too. I'm sure he's counting down in his head.
Well, my boyfriend better be drinking his water obediently and not let his eyes wander elsewhere.
After a while, Charlotte stops jumping around and waving her pom-pom, and begins to saunter over to the basketball boys. Her army of sluts trail after her.
"It seems like Charlotte can't resist the temptation to go back to her evil ways after all," Ava says to me, rolling her eyes.
I don't say anything, because I have a bad feeling about what Charlotte is up to. The way she sways her hips, the way she puts on foot forward in front of the other, it's evident to me where she's headed.
She's walking to Connor.
My body freezes; and I stare wide-eyed at the spectacle. I should have known, I should have realized, that Charlotte was never one to let go of grudges. Ever since Connor and I got together, it seems like Charlotte has finally got off my back.
