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KAYLA
Chuck tried to get me to join him at a band house party, but I said I was too tired from the drive. I wanted to talk to him, but not if I had to yell over loud music and drunk people who couldn’t control their own volume. It’d been one hell of a day. I drove to my parents’ house and then my dad dropped me off at my apartment, since my car wouldn’t be ready for a week.
I got a response to my text from my coach.
Samantha: See me first thing tomorrow. Report time is 7 a.m.
That sounded ominous. Was I supposed to show up in my uniform just so I could be extra humiliated when the coaching staff threw me off the bus?
I tossed my ruined t-shirt in the trash, changed into my pajamas, and climbed into bed, ignoring the dings of new text messages when I saw they were from Jay. I was seriously annoyed with him. I’d sacrificed my sport so he could keep doing his. What else did I have to do to prove myself to him? Asking me to cheer for Michigan was too much.
I tossed and turned most of the night, frustrated with everything. When my alarm went off at 5:30 a.m., I groaned and trudged to the shower like a death march. I ran through ideas of what to say to my coaches, and decided to go with the truth. Whatever punishment or judgement they gave me would be better than lying.
Chuck was up and in his marching band uniform as I finished getting ready. He gave me his “think positive” pep talk, but it fell flat.
There was a long string of buses parked at the fieldhouse when I showed up thirty minutes early, and there were several police cruisers at the front and back of the line, ready to give the team and cheerleader buses an escort to the Big House. Media and fans were already there, corded off to the side.
I made my way to the main entrance, which had two security officers waiting. They glanced at my gray cheerleader warmups and equipment bag, and waved me in, although one of them glared at me like I was interrupting his peaceful morning.
I ducked through the door and found Samantha in the lobby, drinking coffee and chatting with the football staff. My head coach was a beautiful woman in her forties, or maybe older. It was impossible to tell because she had youthful eyes and endless enthusiasm.
“Kayla.” She nearly dropped her cup of Starbucks when she saw me. Oh, crap. Was I not supposed to be in uniform? She hurried to me, pulling me over to a corner. “How are you doing?”
She sounded genuinely concerned, and my heart sank further. She knew I wouldn’t miss the parade unless it was serious, and she must have assumed something terrible had happened.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m so sorry about last night.”
“That was interesting. I didn’t even think Coach Vaughn knew my name.”
“What?” Why was she talking about Ohio State’s head coach?
“He found me right before the parade and said I needed to excuse you from the performance. That you and your dad were handling a football emergency.”
My jaw dropped. My dad must have called Coach Vaughn and asked for a favor. I was beyond grateful, but how much had my dad revealed? Oh, God. Was that why the security guard was giving me the stink eye?
“Yeah,” I said slowly. It wasn’t a lie, I was handling a football emergency. “Did he give specifics?”
“No, but Coach has a lot going on right now, so for him to come and ask for this, I’m not going to say no. What were you doing?” Her gaze flicked over my head, and she frowned at whatever she saw. “You know what? Explain later. I want to talk to you about safety today. The article’s going to draw a lot of unwanted attention, so the staff and I will be keeping an extra close eye. If you start to feel uncomfortable at all, you let me or one of—”
“What article?”
Samantha’s grip tightened on her cup. “You haven’t seen it? No one told you about it yet?”
“I turned my phone off last night.” Which I was now regretting. “My boyfriend and I had a disagreement.”
“The boyfriend who plays for Michigan?”
I nearly fell over. She knew? “How’d you—”
“So, it’s true.” She gave me a sad smile. “The school’s paper published a special gameday edition this morning, and you’re in it. An Ohio State cheerleader dating a Michigan football player, during the game of the century. Of all my cheerleaders, you were the last one I’d suspect.”
“Oh, no,” I whispered. I’d worried about telling the squad the truth, and now the whole fucking school knew. My gaze fell to the floor as I struggled with what this meant. “Am I kicked off the team?”
Samantha laughed lightly. “No, of course not. Kayla, look at me.” Her eyes were judgement-free. “Remember, it’s football. It’s not life or death.”
I gave her a plain stare.
She shot one straight back. Her posture straightened and she put one hand on a hip. “You know what? Ask me where I got my undergrad degree from.”
I went to form the words and froze. “No.”
“Yes.” She grinned. “You’re looking at me like I’m crazy.”
“I just don’t understand how you—”
“I love my alma mater, and I love coaching here. They aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“They kind of are.”
She shrugged. “Only if you buy in to the rivalry, which I don’t.” She took a final sip of her coffee and tossed it into a nearby garbage can. “You’re one tough cookie, and if anyone can handle taking flack, it’s you. But let’s get on the bus before it gets too hairy out there.”
I followed alongside Samantha, trying to ignore the suspicious looks of the coaching staff. Most of them I knew by first name. Some had been to my house for summer barbeques. They looked at me now like I was a stranger. Or worse.
We exited the building, and I made a beeline for the last bus, which brought me face to face with the couple approaching. Courtney was walking hand-in-hand with Tariq Crawford, and he carried her cheerleading bag. There were rumors Tariq couldn’t keep it in his pants, but Courtney refused to believe it.
His dark eyes flared with recognition as he saw me, and an evil laugh escaped his throat. “Hope you don’t mind when I drive your pretty little white boy into the ground and he don’t get up.”
Instead of giving him the reaction he was looking for, I acted skeptical. “I don’t know, Tariq. You’d have to catch him first,” I shrugged, “and I don’t think you ever have.”
I climbed the steps onto the bus, feeling lighter, like I could actually breathe for the first time in forever. It felt good now that the secret was out. Of course, the feeling died as Lisa stepped into the aisle and slapped a newspaper into my chest. The headline read “Spy or Traitor?” with a picture of me cheering at a game.
Her smile was sickening. “I forgot to mention. In addition to being pre-med, Brent’s a writer for The Lantern.”
“Good for him,” I said, taking the newsprint and tossing it into an empty seat, and then I turned my focus to the rest of the bus. It looked like almost everyone was here, and several pairs of angry eyes peered at me over seat tops.
“So,” an annoyed voice came from the back, “you kind of forgot to tell us your boyfriend plays for Michigan. Is it true?”
I swallowed thickly but kept my chin up. “It is.”
Some of the cheerleaders looked disgusted, but a few didn’t seem to care.
“And where were you last night? Too busy banging him to join us?” Lisa had fire in her eyes.
It wasn’t necessary, but I’d sent a text to her after letting the coaches know. I figured that’d keep Lisa’s imagination from running wild. “I told you I had an emergency.”
One of the guy cheerleaders made a face. “You did? Lisa said you were a no-show.”
“No, you know how much I love you guys, this team. This school. I wouldn’t—”
Lisa held up a hand. “Whatever, we don’t want to hear it.”
I ignored her. “I should have told you all about Jay. I’m sorry. You deserve better.”
“I know I do.” Her snotty statement got under my skin, and she wasn’t finished, either. “No one at this school is going to let you cheer now.”
“You know what, Lisa?” I said, channeling Samantha’s words. “This isn’t life or death. It’s just football.”
The bus collectively gasped. People gazed at me, almost fearful.
“Who are you?” one of the freshman girls whispered.
I set my hand on a chair back to steady myself. “I know it sounds impossible, that I love a guy who goes to Michigan. But I’m the same diehard OSU girl I’ve always been. And your captain, if you’ll still have me.”
I expected steam to pour out of Lisa’s ears at that moment. “Are you bananas? The only choice you’ve left us is for me to be captain.”
She scoured the faces before us for validation but was treated to blank or horrified looks.
“Wait, what?” Courtney’s voice rang out behind me. She’d gotten on the bus at some point, and I was blocking her from her seat. “I didn’t sign on for that. We picked Kayla to be our captain. Not you, Lisa.”
One of the guys stood and gestured to Lisa. “Yeah. No offense, but you’re like getting kicked in the junk, but not as much fun.”
Another senior shot to her feet. “The only real option here is Kayla, even with her disgusting and probably inbred Michigan boyfriend.”
I couldn’t fault her for saying it. If the roles had been reversed, I would have been that voice. There were murmurs of agreement. It was kind of amazing and humbling. They still trusted me as their leader, even though I’d made mistakes.
“Suck it, Lisa!” someone yelled from the rear of the seats, and I bit down on my lip to keep from smiling. I wasn’t supposed to allow that kind of thing, but frankly, I’d had it with Lisa. She looked around with wide eyes, and seemed to be wondering how this all went wrong.
“Her?” she demanded, casting a finger at me. “She’s a traitor! I’m not going to stand here and take orders from her.”
I considered her statement critically. “All right. Then get off the bus.”
“What?” she roared.
The football season was almost over, but I wasn’t going to put up with her shit through the winter or spring semester. I’d already dealt with it for too long. “Your attitude has been a problem all year, and it stops right now. If you can’t deal with me, you need to get off this bus. Decide, Lisa. Start being someone who lifts her teammates up instead of tearing them down.”
She scoffed. “I don’t do that.”
“Really? Then why did you have your boyfriend publish this article?” I gave her a hard look. “I’ve always had your back, even when you didn’t deserve it, but you’ve never had mine or anyone else’s. We’re a united team.” I flung my hand at the door. “Last chance. Get on board or get off.”
She clearly didn’t like me challenging her. “I can’t with you! You fuck a guy from Michigan!”
The bus went silent. Our uniform came with strict guidelines. We were ambassadors of the university and needed to behave appropriately. Swearing was a big offense, and thank God she’d been on the bus while she did it and not near the media or the fans.
“I guess this is goodbye then,” I said finally.
For a long moment, she didn’t do a thing. Was she in shock? She looked stunned as she slowly collected her bag and moved to get off the bus. A few people clapped and she glanced around, trying to incinerate people with her glare. “Eat a bag of dicks.”
She plodded angrily down the stairs and disappeared.
I sank down into a seat beside Sean, a junior. He watched Lisa through the window, and then turned his attention to me. A smile widened on his face. “You tell your parents yet? About him going to Michigan?”
I nodded.
“Wow, and I thought coming out was hard. If my dad had a choice between me being gay or me dating a girl from Michigan . . . he’d probably choose gay.”