coach. It was pandemonium in the stands, and goddammit, I was a little bit teary-eyed. That was my girl down there, and she was awesome. She had no idea the effect she was having on the entire community. I’d been going to sporting events in this town for more than twenty years, and I’d never once seen the cheer squad get a reception like that. Hell, the guys soccer team had a bounty for who could hit the squad with the most number of tortilla chips from the stands.
It was Marley. She inspired people to be better. Myself—who was really already as close to perfect as you could get—included.
I was going to marry her. Really, I had no choice. Marley Cicero was meant to be mine, and I was meant to be hers. We would hash out the details later.
The action on the field started again, and I, along with the rest of the town, watched as the two teams battled it out on the green grass under the lights.
Every breakaway, every tangle resulted in groans and cheers from the stands. And when the Buglers managed to put another ball past Ashlynn in the Barn Owls’ goal, I felt the devastation of the crowd as acutely as if we were all connected. The time ticked down in the first half, and with each passing minute, the Buglers seemed to grow bigger and stronger, forcing our defense to fight hard.
“This is bad. This is real bad,” Ned moaned.
“It’s going to be fine,” Jessica promised him, squeezing his mittened hand with her gloved one. “Marley can turn it around with the halftime speech.”
68
Marley
I blew it with my halftime speech. I was so amped up from the first half that I stumbled my way through “awesome jobs” and “way to gos” until Vicky elbowed me out of the way and danced and howled her way around the circle shouting things like “victory” and “ass-kicking.”
The girls were more bewildered than amped up. But pride strangled any real coachy motivation from my throat.
They were playing at the Bugler’s level. Sure, the opposing team had gotten lucky twice now. But that didn’t mean we weren’t going to return the favor. Down 2-1 at halftime was better than anything I could have imagined at the beginning of the season.
I turned the team loose so we could watch the Homecoming Court take their place at midfield. Surprising us all, Ruby had been nominated to the court. The girls pulled Ruby’s long braids out of their thick ponytail and draped them over one shoulder. Natalee had touched up her makeup during my woefully inept speech.
The other girls on the field were preptastic in plaid blazers and pencil skirts. Ruby stood out like a tall, gorgeous sore thumb in her grass-stained uniform. Tall and proud.
“Is that?” I squinted at the field.
“Yep. Ricky the cross-country kid. She asked him after he ran with us Sunday.”
“Nice going, Ruby.”
I noticed Milton and Ascher were both dates for blonde, skinny, field-hockey-playing queen nominees. I imagined Amie Jo was in the stands with a professional photographer and a telephoto lens capturing the moment for their Christmas card.
At least she and I weren’t wrestling on the field humiliating ourselves in front of a few thousand witnesses.
Bill Beerman took to the field with a wireless mic, and Vicky gripped my arm. “Here we go!”
Bill launched into an adorably awkward speech about the history of student democracy while everyone shuffled nervously.
My watch vibrated, and I peeked down at it.
Jake: Have time for an under-the-bleachers make-out sesh for old times’ sake?
I grinned. It was nice sharing a history with someone. Not just a co-worker that I’d met and befriended six months ago.
Things had changed. I wasn’t the terrified teenager with zero self-confidence anymore. I was an adult. An adult who could run four miles and handle a gym class full of twenty-five teenagers who would rather be texting. An adult who’d landed herself an incredible fake boyfriend. An adult who’d shed eight pounds since August and was coaching the Homecoming game instead of plotting how to ruin a classmate’s life. I never thought I’d be standing here in the middle of most of my hometown feeling good about myself.
Yet here I was. Wonders never ceased.
“And with that,” Bill said, “I’m proud to announce this year’s Culpepper High Homecoming Queen. Ruby King.”
“She won! She won!” Vicky was clawing her way through the sleeve of my jacket. But I was too busy jumping up and down and screaming to notice. My