Page 32 of The Cheerleader

“And what? Get the notice of an NFL scout⁠—”

“Don’t even say it. Whether a scout notices me or not is out of my control. All I can do is work hard. At football and school. And for that, I need a distraction-free life.”

“You’re not a machine, Granger, no matter how much your dear dad has convinced you that you⁠—”

“Leave him out of it. He’s not here.” I take a deep shuddering breath because that’s a fucking lie. I carry my old man around with me in my head and in my bones. “I’m a machine because that’s who I am.”

“A farming machine or a football machine?” He stands and faces me, his hands on his hips in a rare challenge. He usually soft-plays me, cajoling rather than challenging, and I don’t like this serious shit from him.

“It doesn’t matter what I do. I’m a machine all the same.”

“Except tonight.”

Getting up, I go to the door and put a hand on the doorknob, pulling it open because I’m letting him win this battle. “You’re wrong. Tonight I’ll be a pizza-eating machine.”

He laughs, and all the tension disappears. I don’t join his laughing, but I almost smile, feeling the unfamiliar lift to one side of my mouth.

Eldy leads the team into Huskies. It’s more than half empty, still waiting for the onslaught of students. I’m last to file inside, but Eldy saves me a seat next to him along the wall at the end. The guys shoved three tables together, and it’s more than enough to hold the group of us from the team, mostly offense, who still have enough energy to show up.

I bet if he’d told the guys he was buying, they’d have all showed up except the ones too hurt to move. Or maybe that’s my penniless-ass way of thinking.

The pitchers of beer arrive, and the volume of the dozen or so guys at the table rises with every glass poured. I mostly listen, draining my glass of water, while the mug of beer Eldy put in front of me remains full. I listen to the guys and conserve my energy while I wait for the pizza.

Something about being around a group of boisterous people zaps my energy, draining it from me like they’re a bunch of blood-sucking vampires. Or it could just be that I need more sleep.

The pizza finally arrives, and I occupy my mouth with eating rather than talking. But I still listen. Mack, who sits on the other side of me, is asking me something about the cheerleaders while I chew and nod.

“It would be cool if they showed up. There are no girls here.” He looks around.

That’s when, as if he conjured them, the cheerleaders walk in—all dozen of them, eight girls and four guys. Liz is front and center, of course, holding Susie’s hand, which is odd, as she leads the lineup. Susie’s eyes meet mine immediately.

There’s something about her that affects me. It’s not that she’s beautiful—which she is in a very classic way with the kind of looks that would stop a Hollywood producer on the street—it’s something more than that. Something familiar about her, maybe her kind eyes.

Liz’s loud voice breaks my mesmerized state, and I look away, choosing at this moment to pick up my glass of beer and take a healthy gulp.

“Bryan, I’m surprised to see you here,” Liz calls out, and I hate myself for wishing she didn’t see me here. Right now, I don’t want to deal with her throwing herself at me. I know if she drinks, that’s exactly what she’ll do. In private, I can handle it. But in public… I’d rather not have to.

Barely nodding at Liz as she weaves through the tables toward us, I lean toward Eldy and tell him in a low voice, “I’m going to take off early. This was a bad idea.”

He looks between me and Liz and nods, for once, getting it and not giving me shit.

“Look who’s here,” Mack says, undisguised delight in his voice. “I was just telling the guys it would be great to see you all. Join us.”

He stands and starts grabbing chairs from nearby tables without asking and shoving them in between our chairs wherever he can squeeze them. Liz joins in the challenge and shoves a chair between me and Eldy and then another one on my other side. She surprises me when she practically pushes Susie into the seat between me and Eldy.

They’re bunched around us with the waitress behind them holding menus as she directs the busboy to slide another table together with ours. By the time everyone’s settled, we’ve taken over the place because it’s only so big.

Liz winks at me as she sits in the chair wedged in on my other side between me and Chuck.

“You’re not drinking this, are you?” Liz lifts my half-full glass of beer, confident about my answer, and empties it in one quick chug, drawing the table’s attention. Typical Liz. Shit.

“I didn’t know you were a beer chugger,” Susie says. I hear the disappointment in her voice even as she covers it with a smile.

“Liz is always up for a beer,” Eldy says. “Work hard, play hard.” He grabs an empty glass from the table and fills it from a fresh pitcher, placing it in front of Susie.

“For me? You shouldn’t have,” she says, attempting playfulness when I can tell there’s no way she wants it.

“Of course I should. I’m a gentleman, and you’re a beautiful lady who worked hard all day and deserves a cold one.” He pauses while she fingers the glass without exactly accepting it. He lowers his voice, but not enough so I can’t hear him. “Make that a goddamn fucking beautiful lady.”