Chapter Six

Allison was taking summer school classes, anything to avoid going home. When her mother asked if she’d be coming home for the summer, Allison told her mom she didn’t want to take the chance of losing her job at Old Smoky’s. When that wasn’t convincing enough, she lied that she was still in the running for a spot on the cheer squad. Her mother didn’t ask any further questions.

Heading along the outdoor path toward the liberal arts building, she was juggling her belongings—a plastic water bottle in one hand, her smartphone and a tube of lip balm in the other, a backpack over her shoulder and a notebook under her arm. One of her psych professors once told the class to always carry a notebook and use it to jot your thoughts and feelings. He claimed the act of physically writing it down instead of jotting it on a notes app helps you connect with your feelings, and that, in turn, would help you connect with others when you go on to your respective professions in the field. That made sense to Allison.

She uncapped the balm to apply some to her lips when she heard someone call “Allison!”

As she started to turn around, she lost her grip on the lip balm, water bottle and phone. “Oh no!” She reached out to catch them before they fell, and dropped the notebook and backpack as well. Closing her eyes, she exhaled a sigh of surrender.

She sank to her knees to pick her things off the pavement. “Here.” A man squatted to help her gather her belongings. Allison’s eyes went wide when she recognized him as the guy who laughed at her at tryout practice and helped her clean up the mess at the restaurant a few weeks ago. After he handed her the lip balm and phone, she pressed the power key to make sure the phone screen didn’t crack.

“You a psych major?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No reason.” Pointing to the notebook, he said, “I saw the words ‘Psych notes’ on your notebook and, I don’t know. Just making conversation.”

She rose to her feet and looked at him. “You called my name. How did you know my name is Allison?”

Tony stood up and stuffed a hand in his pocket. “Oh. Uh. I heard your boss say it. Did you … did you get fired?”

“Yeah, but I got hired back the same day. My manager said he was in a bad mood and got over it or somethin’. It was pretty weird.” Allison lifted her chin to look at his face. Standing so close, he was taller than she’d realized. Handsomer too. When he laughed at her last week, she thought he was unattractive, but up close she could see he was far from ugly. She looked down at her backpack on the floor, then back up at Tony. “Wait a minute. What are you doin’ here? Are you stalkin’ me to see how often you can embarrass me?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t do that,” he replied sincerely. “But I have been looking for you.”

Allison put her fist on her hip and squinted at him. “Why? Did you need a good laugh?”

“No, come on, stop saying that. It’s just, I know I kind of messed you up during tryouts. Then I messed you up at work and almost got you fired.”

Allison sighed and shook her head. She nervously rubbed the back of her neck. “You didn’t do anything. I’m responsible for my own actions and—” Looking into his eyes, she remembered the way he looked at her that first day. In the middle of her tryout, he caused her heart to skip a beat and time seemed to stand still. Actually, it wasn’t time that stood still that day. Time kept going and she was the one who stood still, losing her focus, then losing her balance. And the rest is history. “I let myself get distracted, both times,” she admitted. “It’s on me.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but I was still wrong to laugh, and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Then why did you,” she challenged.

“Don’t know. Pent-up energy. Frustration. Blowing off steam, maybe. Look, I still feel bad about it and I wanna make it up to you. I want to help you with your tryouts.”

She lifted her brow in surprise. “Uh. Um. Thanks anyway, but I’m done with that. I’m really bad at it, as you saw.”

“But there’s still time. To practice, I mean.”

“Not for me,” she said with a twinge of sadness. “It’s too late. I’ve been eliminated.”

“Officially, maybe. But unofficially…”

Her brow wrinkled. “There are unofficial tryouts?”

Tony smiled and stood up a little straighter. “If you know the right people.”

“Oh, and I suppose you know the right people,” she said with a little more sarcasm than she intended.

“I am the right people.” He puffed out his chest a little. “I’m Tony Ramos, a quarterback for the Barracudas.”

“I know.”

“You… you know?”

She looked him in the eye. “I know who you are. You have a reputation.”

Tony’s face fell. Before she let herself feel guilty about her comment, she tossed the water and lip balm in her backpack, lifted it off the floor, and started walking away. When he reached for her hand, she instinctively pulled away and snapped at him. “What do you want from me?”

“I wanna help. That’s all. I just wanna help.”

He sounded sincere, but she wasn’t sure she believed him. “How?”

“You know Janna, the woman who runs the tryouts? If I ask, I bet she’d give you another look.”

Allison briefly imagined Tony and Janna making out in the gymnasium bleachers. She shook that image out of her mind. “Thanks, but that’s okay.”

“Why?” he persisted. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She spoke slowly, drawing out the words to try and make him understand. “I’m not good enough, period.”

“Maybe I can help with that too.”

Allison glared at Tony. “Seriously? What do you know about cheerleadin’?”

“It’s basically dancing and my grandmother made me take lessons. More to the point, I play football, so I’ve seen my share of cheerleaders.”

“I’ll just bet you have,” she spat.

Tony rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean it that way. I mean I can probably give you some tips on your form.”

“Uh-huh.” She folded her arms across her chest and the notebook nearly slipped out from under her arm again.

Sighing, he mumbled, “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded either. Look, do you want my help, or don’t you?”

Allison relaxed a little. “I don’t know. To be honest, I’m skeptical about what you think you can do to help me become a cheerleader, but—” She thought for a moment more. “I guess I have nothing to lose.”

“Your enthusiasm is underwhelming,” he said flatly. “Look, gimme your number and I’ll text you when I get something set up.”

She set everything except her notebook on the floor again and scribbled her phone number on a piece of paper. She tore it out and handed it to him. “What are you settin’ up?”

“Practice. I’m gonna get a cheerleader friend of mine to help.”