Page 77 of The Cheerleader is Off Limits

“It’s the truth.”

Part of me wants to tell her off for that comment, but I know it’s only because it struck a nerve, and maybe a part of her is right.

Maybe I need to start seeing a therapist again.

After this? Probably.

“Sloane, you’re barely twenty years old. What you’re feeling is very normal, but it’s not real.”

She snorts. “Who are you to tell me what isn’t real? When was the last time you established something real with anyone outside of your family?” I’m silent because to be honest, I wasn’t sure. I’d gotten somewhat serious with a few women here and there over the years, but I usually fucked those up before they could really go anywhere. “I get it. You’re worried about this all blowing up. And I get what would happen to you if it did. But I was never going to let that happen, and I just wish you trusted me. Honestly, I thought about asking my parents if I could transfer to another school in the county. I knew how uncomfortable you were, and I thought it would make things easier. But I didn’t want to risk drawing too much attention to why, and Delaney would probably figure it out, and that would still put you on edge since she would still be there.”

The thought that she’d be willing to do that for me makes me believe she does care and not want me to get screwed. “I know you think you can stop it from happening, but the truth is, you can’t. You just never know who’s watching, and all it takes is one misstep for things to get completely out of hand. This is why we should just stay away from each other.”

“So this is it.” It sounded so simple and easy.

I let out a breath. “Yes.”

“I think part of me always knew that we’d end up here…” She clears her throat. “I mean, after we got in this mess.” She’s silent before she continues. “I just..." She laughs weakly. “I guess I hoped we’d have more time.” A sad smile crosses my face, but I don’t respond. “You’re a good guy, River. Don’t let whatever has happened in the past make you think you don’t deserve to be happy in the future.”

“Thanks, Sloane. I hope you’re happy too.”

And then she ends the call.

CHAPTER 18

SLOANE

“Are you okay?”

I turn toward my cousin, who’s standing next to me on the sidelines of the football field. We’d just walked back over from the track where we do one of our routines in front of the crowded home-side bleachers, which are packed tonight with students and parents. Most of them were standing and cheering rather than sitting, because the Bulldogs were the “team to watch this year” after their record-breaking season last year. They apparently only lost one game all season last year, their first game, meaning as of today, they had won nine straight games in a row. The excitement was electric, especially because the team we were playing tonight was one of the school’s biggest rivals.

We are back on the grass, probably only thirty feet from the football team, with our pom-poms resting against our thighs, waiting for the next time someone scores or does something to inspire one of our cheers.

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

“You started half a beat late back there.” She nods to where we were standing before forcing her hair behind her ear. Because her hair is above her shoulders, her hair is down and pushedback by the same blue satin ribbon that is holding my hair up in a ponytail.

“Yeah, I was just in my head about the routine.”

I knew I was late.

I hadn’t expected anyone to notice.

But of course, my cousin noticed.

We started with our backs to the stadium bleachers, meaning we were facing the team, and even though their backs were to us, I thought I saw River turn for a brief second.

My mind went blank for a moment, and I missed the first beat when the music started.

I take a breath, inhaling the smell of nachos and popcorn, but also the grass, the players' sweat, and the night air. It was already the middle of September, which meant that by seven o’clock, you might start to feel a light chill in the air.

She snorts. “Since when. You know it backward and forward.”

The sound of a whistle breaks the conversation, and we step back into formation to do our next cheer, which ends with a few of us doing a back handspring. On the field, Mack, the quarterback, throws a long pass toward another player in the end zone, and he catches it with ease. The stadium announcer's voice booms overhead, declaring a touchdown and the current score, and the crowd explodes again.

I barely register any of it.

I was trying my best to focus, but I couldn’t stop my attention from drifting to the sideline. I’d hoped it wasn’t obvious, the way I kept looking over there. It was hard to see River from my angle, but every few times, I’d see a flash of his tattoo or the clipboard he was holding, or I’d hear him bark out an order or something to one of the players. I couldn’t see much of his face at first because he was wearing a hat low over his eyes, but at somepoint, he turned it around so it was backward, giving me a better glimpse of him.