Thankfully, Dad felt it was more important for me to man the Pep Group booth than the water table for the big game. He’d assigned Shorty to that detail. And I was grateful. Standing on the sidelines, watching Tyson run around, was not how I wanted to spend my Friday evening.

After all, we hadn’t seen each other since our closet kiss, and I’d done a pretty good job keeping him from my mind. I only thought about him once every five minutes. It wasn’t great, but I was getting better.

I stood at the table, taking putting out foam fingers and pennants on a stick. Dad had gone all out for the first game. He always said wins are accomplished with two ingredients. First, the players. Second, the support. If people are cheering for the team, they play better. Both are needed to clinch the victory.

“Hey, Destiny.”

I turned to see Samson and Jessica walking up to the table. They seemed pretty chummy lately. I eyed how close their arms were to each other. Had they started something?

I forced down the groan that clung to my throat. That was the last thing I needed. Watching two lovestruck people figure out their attraction for each other. But instead of focusing on that, I put them to work.

The game started in an hour, and people were beginning to show up to claim their seats.

Once I set up Samson at the cash box and Jessica with the bags, I told them I was going to grab a soda and be right back. They nodded, and I made my way over to the concession stand.

I settled on a Sprite and a pretzel. As I made my way back to our booth, I noticed that Samson and Jessica seemed very engrossed in their conversation. Not wanting to interrupt, I walked behind the bleachers and stopped at the back stairs.

No one was around. This was perfect. I brushed a stair clean with my hand and sat down. Ten minutes alone seemed like heaven.

I bit off a chunk of pretzel and stared at the chain-link fencing in front of me. I allowed my mind to wander as I chewed.

“Come here often?”

I jumped and turned, my heart pounding in my chest. Of course, fate and its cruel sense of humor. Tyson was standing a few feet off in his football get up. He had his eyebrows raised and an uneasy expression on his face.

I brushed off my lips, hoping there weren’t any crumbs, and nodded. How was I supposed to handle this? My gaze dropped to his lips. The memory of them pressed against mine raced through my thoughts.

Stupid memory.

“Yeah,” I said, finally finding my voice. “I like being alone.”

Ugh. How lame did I sound? I like being alone? Who says that?

Tyson ran his hands through his hair. “I get it. That’s why I come here.”

I chewed my lip and nodded. When I saw his gaze move down my face, I wondered for a moment if he was remembering our kiss too.

He took a step closer to me, and my heart responded. I blew out my breath slowly, hoping it would calm the butterflies in my stomach.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier.” He dropped his gaze to the ground. I wondered why he wouldn’t look at me.

Was he ashamed that he kissed me? Embarrassed?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I really didn’t want to hear the answer to those questions. I wasn’t sure I could handle the truth either way.

So I forced a smile. “No worries. It’s totally fine.” I leaned forward hoping what I was about to say next would come out silly instead of creepy. “Not the first time that’s ever happened.” Except it was.

He eyed me. “You’ve kissed a lot of guys in closets.”

I made a pssh sound. “Yeah.”

I could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t sure if he believed me or not. But then he nodded, and that blasted half-smile returned. “I’m impressed, Tiny.”

I shrugged and leaned back, resting my elbow on the stair above me. My conversation with Rebecca earlier rushed back to me. I was a little hurt that he never told me that he had a little sister. Before I could filter my words, I blurted out, “So you have a little sister?”

Tyson shifted. “Have you been stalking me?”

My lips parted as I tried to figure out a witty comeback to that. But nothing came, so I decided to own it. “Bec told me that you’ve been having some cheerleaders help you watch her.”

He pushed his hands through his hair. “Yeah. Tammy. Her little sister goes to school with Cori, and she helps out when I have practice and my mom…” A pained expression passed over his face.

Seeing him hurt made my chest squeeze. “I’m sorry.” I knew all too well the pain that came from a flaky parent.

He shrugged and kicked a rock with his shoe. “It’s no biggie.” He glanced up, and a forced smile spread across his lips. “I’ve got it handled.”

“Is that why you were brooding this morning?” Heat raced to my cheeks.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Brooding? I was brooding?”

I nodded, like that was a totally normal way to describe someone.

“Yeah, then that’s why I was brooding. Mom couldn’t get up this morning, so I had to take Cori to school. Elementary starts an hour later than us, and I had to find someone who’d let me drop her off so I could make it to Chem before the bell rang.” He scrubbed his face. “As you could see, I failed at that too.”

I studied him, and sympathy washed over me. It wasn’t fair that he had this much responsibility dumped on his shoulders. So I gave him an encouraging smile. “You’re doing great. Cori’s lucky to have you.”

He nodded and then glanced over to the large scoreboard where the clock shone against the setting sun. “Yeesh. Gotta go. Told the Boss I had to run to my car to grab my jock—” He stopped and pinched his lips together. “Sorry.”

Heat raced across my whole body, and I prayed that he wouldn’t notice.

“Anyway, I should go before I say anything more incriminating.”

I nodded and waved him away. “Be gone. Before my dad finds out we’ve been talking and forces you to play without your jockstrap.” I pinched my lips together and gave him a look that I hoped said, oh yeah, I went there.

He shot me a smile, appreciating my attempt at humor and turned away. Just before he was out of earshot, he glanced back at me. “Thanks, Tiny.”

I did a mini bow, and by the time I looked up, he was gone.

I ate the rest of my pretzel, sitting there, thinking about our conversation. About Tyson. I felt bad for him. He had his sister and his mom to worry about. And me? I had an overprotective dad who cared about me. Who didn’t get wasted at some bar and force me to pick him up.

As much as I complained about how Dad treated me, I was lucky. And I wanted to remember that.

I put my napkin in the empty tray, grabbed my Sprite, and headed over to the booth. Samson and Jessica were still deep in conversation, and I doubted they even noticed me when I walked up. I said hi and everything, but they didn’t look at me.

I blew a loose strand of hair from my face and sighed. Well, this was going to be fun.

By halftime, we’d sold out of foam fingers and Panther visors. Dad was going to be happy. Well, partially happy. When he found out what some of the students decided to do with the foam fingers, he was going to blow a gasket. But it was a high school football game, what did he expect?

When the cheerleaders ran out onto the field, I stood and started shifting the product around to make it look like we had more things than we did. Samson and Jessica had gone off for a snack, leaving me alone.

“Wow, Destiny. This is amazing.”

I turned to see Ms. Swallow standing next to the table with an appreciative look on her face. I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

She nodded—maybe a bit too enthusiastically. I quirked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. I tried not to wonder if the reason she was talking to me was because of my dad. I scoffed. That was stupid. She was my teacher. Liking my dad was not a prerequisite for talking to me.

“Yeah. I really like your school spirit.”

I shrugged as I filled the cup that held the banners. “It’s the only group that my dad will let me join. Plus, he’s really pushing for us to go to state this year and ‘fans are just as important as players.’ ” I attempted my best Dad voice.

When I glanced over at Ms. Swallow, she was smiling at me. Maybe a little too much.

Stop thinking like that, Tiny.

But I couldn’t help it. This was too weird. Seeing a person actually like Dad? Bile built up in my throat, so I pushed all thoughts of Dad dating from my mind.

It was really ridiculous if I broke it down in my mind. Dad had told me that relationships and love were useless from the moment Mom left. The only way to keep yourself safe was to keep everyone at a distance. So even allowing those ideas of him dating was crazy.

No. The only reason Ms. Swallow was talking to me was because I was the Pep Group President and she wanted to buy some physical school support.

“Did you want to get something? We’re out of foam fingers and panther visors.”

Her eyes widened as she glanced at the remaining paraphernalia on the table. “Um, yeah, sure. I’ll take a banner and…” She ran her finger through the air as she pointed to all the items. “A panther t-shirt.”

I grabbed her items and stuffed them into a bag. “That’s thirty dollars.”

Her eyes widened, but she nodded, pulling her purse forward and getting out her wallet. After she paid, she stayed by the table. I eyed her. Was it rude for me to ask her to leave?

After I helped an enthusiastic grandmother and a man with a t-shirt that could barely cover his stomach, Samson and Jessica came back. I declared that it was my break time and slipped from the booth. Ms. Swallow must have grown bored watching me or sensed that I wanted to be left alone, because she melded into the crowd that was making its way back to the stand in anticipation of the start of the second half.

I made my way over to the fence that lined the field and leaned against it. As much as I hated that Dad forced me to help out with the football team, I really loved the feeling of game day. The anticipation. The excitement. It surrounded the stadium in a cloud of school spirit.

I stayed at the fence, watching the game until after the third quarter. I probably took a longer break than I should have, but Samson and Jessica didn’t seem to notice me when I was there, so I doubted they noticed when I was gone.

When I got back, they asked if they could be done for the night, and I nodded, waving them away with my hand. Very little sales were made in the last quarter anyway.

A cheer rose up as the Panthers scored to end the game. I smiled as I started packing the boxes with the remaining items. Dad would be in a good mood. The first game always made him nervous. He felt it set the mood for the rest of the season.

I made a few more sales from overly excited parents who seemed to want to remember this night and the victory. By the time I had everything put away, there were only the detention students wandering around, picking up garbage with skewers.

I folded down the table and slammed it shut.

“How’d we do?” Dad asked as he walked up to me.

I straightened and shot him a smile. “Good. Sold over half the items.”

Dad couldn’t fight his grin anymore. “What a great night, huh?” He turned and looked lovingly at the field.

“Want me to go so you can get a room?”

Dad turned and shot me a look. “Nice.”

I shrugged and folded up the second table. “You were getting all goo-goo eyes.”

He reached out and tousled my hair. “You know I only have eyes for my little girl.”

I glanced over at him. Was that true? I wanted to know what he thought about Ms. Swallow. Was it possible for him to have feelings for her?

“Ms. Swallow stopped by.” I studied him. Waiting for some incriminating expression that would tell me what he thought of her.

“Angelica? Really?”

His face didn’t change. Man, he was good.

He nodded. “That’s nice. The players need to see that their teachers support them. I’m happy she came.”

Okay, this wasn’t working. I needed to be more direct. “She was asking about you.”

He motioned toward the boxes, and I began stacking them in his arms. His expression didn’t falter. “That makes sense. I am the coach. I come up in most conversations about the football team.”

I sighed. This was pointless. I set the rest of the boxes on the flatbed cart that I’d hidden under the tables. After I laid the tables on top, we both made our way over to the school.

Football players began filtering out of the building as we approached. Just as we got to the doors, Rebecca came out. Her cheeks were pink, and her ponytail bounced around as she talked to another cheerleader.

“Des,” she said when she saw me. She said goodbye to the other girl and made her way over.

“Great routines,” Dad said as he leaned against the open door.

“Thanks, Mr. D.” She glanced over at me. “So, there’s an after-party, and I was wondering if Destiny could come. After all, she’s done so much to help the team. She should be there.”

Heat raced to my cheeks as I glanced over at Dad. He had his brow furrowed as he studied us. I could see the indecisiveness in his gaze. He liked Rebecca. He thought she was a good influence on me. But a party meant boys.

“Don’t worry, I know the rules. It’s strictly a girl party,” she said as if she read my dad’s mind.

That seemed to appease him. “Oh, then sure. She can go.” He glanced over to the flatbed. Just as he finished speaking, Shorty came into view carrying the water jug and table. “Shorty, help bring these things in.”

Shorty glanced from Dad over to me. I could see the frustration in his eyes. But, he just nodded, dumped the water table items on the cart, and wheeled it into the school.

I turned to Rebecca with my lips parted. I couldn’t believe that Dad had actually agreed to this. “I’ll grab my stuff from my locker and meet you at your car.”