Page 9 of Falling Into You

“First of all, no,” Rory said, fighting to keep her voice even. “Six guys tried out last year. And I think people stay away because they know we only have two slots for guys and the two guys we have are excellent.” She took another deep breath. “It’s not my fault the guys at this school are afraid of a little competition. Also, Carlos and Stuart keep coming back because it’sfun.”

“And I bet it looks awesome on college apps,” Jacob said pragmatically.

Rory and Tucker both turned to look at him. “Thank you, Jacob,” Rory said, touched that he was trying to help. “Itdoeslook amazing on college apps. Have you ever seen how many guys there are on the Texas cheer squad?” she asked Tucker. He was applying to UT Austin early action, and wore their burnt orange and white whenever he wasn’t wearing his Woodmont High gear.

“Yeah, I mean, guys doing girlie activities is all the rage,” Jacob added. “There’s a men-who-knit account on TikTok that has, like, five million followers.”

And there he went, being annoying again.

“Cheer is not a girlie activity!” Rory protested, her cheeks burning anew. “It’s—”

“Whatever,” Tucker said, cutting her off. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t be surprised if no one shows up. It’s almost October. Everyone’s already in their fall sports.”

“That’s why you’re going to help me spread the word,” Rory said, handing Tucker a stack of flyers. She stepped closer to him and put her hand on his chest, tipping her head back to look directly into his eyes. Rory was not above flirting to get her way. Especially not in a situation as dire as this one. “People listen to you. And if I don’t have a full squad for regionals, if I can’t evencompetein regionals, then I am going to beverydifficult to live with.” She smiled coyly and batted her eyelashes for good measure.

“Whoa,” Jacob said. “She’s got you there.”

“Okay, okay!” Tucker took the flyers with a laugh. “I’ll help. You know I can’t say no to you in that skirt.” He kissed her on the lips and slung his arm around her. “Let’s go to the sophomore wing. Maybe we can intimidate some of those losers into showing up.”

Biting her tongue—because hewastrying to help, even if she didn’t appreciate his vocabulary—Rory leaned into Tucker’s side as they walked. When she noticed Jacob wasn’t with them, she glanced back over her shoulder and saw him handing a bunch of flyers to his brother Ford, who looked like he’d just come out of the weight room, too. Ford was the captain of the football team, which meant he had a lot ofpower at Woodmont High, so if he handed out a few flyers, that would really help. Ford rolled his eyes but took them and started off in the opposite direction from Jacob. He really was trying to help.

Sometimes, she really could not figure that guy out.

Jacob

Five years ago, if you’d told Jacob Reilly that he’d be one of the leading scorers of the varsity soccer team and hanging out with the senior captains on his very own roof on a random Monday night, he would have died of excitement.

Eleven-year-old Jacob had been a scrawny wannabe who always got picked last for teams in gym. His brother Ford routinely put him in headlocks, shut him up in the basement, and gave him so many surprise wedgies and noogies that he walked around his house on high alert at all times. But after a random sixth-grade growth spurt that put him on the middle school track team’s radar, Jacob had started eating the protein his father kept telling him he needed, lifting weights on the sly, and running every afternoon after school. After coming in third in the four hundred at middle school counties, he’d tried out for the soccer team on a dare from his friend Kai Gerber and made it.

Half the good things that had happened to Jacob in his life had been the direct result of him accepting dares. Or taking bets. Or orchestrating pranks.

Now here he was with Kai, Tucker, and Cody, eating their way through a jumbo bag of Doritos and trying to peg random targets with old soccer balls. As usual, they’d crawled out onto the garage roof through the window of the bedroom Jacob shared with his brother Chad. This was one of their favorite hangouts, at least when Jacob’s parents weren’t around to yell at them about safety. Soccer practice had been particularly brutal, and they needed to blow off some steam. Thus, the target practice.

“I’m going for the bird feeder!” Jacob declared, pointing at the yellow cylinder hanging off a branch in the front yard.

“You know if you break that, Mom will kill you!” Chad shouted up from the ground.

“Ooh, Mommy’s gonnakill you!” Tucker teased, taking a swig of his energy drink.

“Shut up, Tucker!” Chad called, and Jacob was proud of him for sticking up for himself (though his face did go red from the effort). Chad was a little chunky for his age and had an odd sense of style that involved graphic T-shirts featuring old cartoons paired with baggy cargo shorts. He also hero-worshipped Jacob’s and Ford’s friends, even though his talents were more artistic and less athletic. He’d won the third-grade holiday art contest last year and had his drawing of a dinosaur dressed up as Santa Claus printed in the local paper.

“Ooooh! You’re in trouble now!” Cody said, shoving Tucker from behind.

As strong as Tucker was, Cody was stronger. Six foot four and broad-shouldered with dark skin and hair his former-military dad shaved every couple of weeks, Cody could probably take anyone in their school down with a pinkie finger. Which was why in addition to being cocaptain of the soccer team, he was also captain of varsity wrestling. Tucker stumbled forward, and Jacob’s heart lurched as he grabbed for his friend. The roof of the garage was almost level, but not totally. His mom was always telling him it was dangerous to hang out up here, and he didn’t want to prove her right.

“Dude, I’m fine,” Tucker said, shrugging him off.

“Don’t mock Chad,” Jacob told Tucker under his breath. “We need someone to retrieve the balls for us.”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“All right. Bird feeder time.” Jacob pulled his arm back behind him, palming the soccer ball. “One! Two! Three!”

He hurled it. Kai lifted his phone to film. The kid was practically surgically attached to the device, which meant he’d caught every embarrassing, triumphant, or hilarious moment the group had lived through over the past five years.

The ball arched through the air and smacked directly into the bird feeder. Miraculously, the thing swung up and over the branch and back down again without anything breaking or falling off. It did, however, scatter excess bird feed everywhere.

“OH!” his friends cheered, whooping and pounding him on the back.