Page 82 of The Cheerleader is Off Limits

I could spot an Isla Kincaid reenactment a mile away.

And even if I could get through all of that, Rowan would be able to tell that something was off, and it would only be a matter of time before he figured out that the girl who’d been asked out in front of the entire football team and half the crowd still in the bleachers was Sloane.

And I did not want to get into all of that.

Why didn’t I block her?That was the first question I asked myself when my phone rang with an Instagram call.

Why is she calling me?Was the second. I knew she was probably at a party and maybe a little drunk again. But I told her we had to stop all of this.

I should not answer,was the next thought.

Before I can tell myself to ignore the call, I answer it. “Yes, Sloane?”

“Don’t hang up,” she says, and I can immediately tell that she’s been drinking.

I put the phone on speaker before tossing it on the coffee table, and I rub my hand across my face. “Why are you calling me?”

“I just… I feel like you’re so mad at me.”

“I’m not.” And honestly, I wasn’t. I’d mostly gotten over her lying to me about her age. I was mad about the situation we were in and mad at myself. “Where are you?” She doesn’t respond, and then I hear laughter in the background. “I’m guessing you’re not alone.”

“A party at Sam’s house,” she tells me. I’d figured out that was where the party was last weekend, so I’m not surprised that they’re back there again after tonight’s win. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she says quietly, and I can hear the sincerity in her voice. “I didn’t expect for that to happen.” Her voice cracks, and I hate that she feels so torn up about something that she should be excited about.

“Hey, don’t be upset. Certainly not over that.”

“Why not? He’s sweet but he’s not who I want to go to homecoming with, but who I want to go with isn’t an option. I don’t even want to go at all,” she rambles.

Remembering she’s not alone and also drunker than she was last time, I ask her, “are you by yourself?”

“Yes, sitting on the steps of the porch. But no one is paying attention. Everyone is pretty drunk.”

“Do you feel safe?”

“I think so.”

“Don’t think. Do you know?”

“There’s just a lot of people here. A lot more than last weekend, and it’s loud. I just hope he doesn’t get a noise complaint.”

Jesus, the last thing I need is half my guys getting alcohol citations.“How many people are there?”

“I don’t know, maybe a hundred?”

WHAT? A hundred underage kids? Oh, everyone is getting it at practice on Monday.“Are you kidding?”

“Seventy? I don’t know, River. I wouldn’t say my counting is reliable right now.” I am toying with the idea of texting Sam, Mack, or another senior to shut that shit down. But I don’t know how else I would know about it in real time that wouldn’t also implicate me for talking to a student at twelve thirty at night.

I hear the sound of a sniffle breaking my thoughts. “Sloane?”

“Yeah?” she asks, but I can hear the tears in her voice.Why is she upset? What happened?

“Why are you upset? Tell me what’s wrong?” Anger surges through me because there’s no reason she should be upset.Unless it’s over me?

“I’m just drunk and I feel like you hate me.”

Shit.“I don’t… but Sloane, I think you should go home. I don’t like that you’re this intoxicated right now and all alone.”

“I am alone.” She sniffles. “My parents are on another continent. My aunt and uncle are always gone. And then I meet a guy… A guy I really like, and I don’t even have him anymore,” she says through her tears, followed by another sniffle.