The Wrong Path - By Vivian Marie Aubin du Paris Page 0,43

be a slaughter against Lincoln.”

“Don’t jinx it!” Susan ordered quickly.

Debbie clapped a hand over her mouth quickly. “I mean, we’re going to lose. Horribly.”

They all laughed. “I think you saved us,” Annabelle assured her, grinning. “You can be the winning game’s unsung hero.”

“I like the sound of that,” Debbie drawled, then giggled. She winked at her. “We liked your little performance. Very cute.”

Annabelle blushed. “That was all Claire. She definitely knows how to get a crowd going, huh?”

Debbie laughed. “It was great,” she assured her. “You looked really cute.” She turned to the group behind her. “Guys, this is Annabelle. Annabelle, this is Tony, Curtis, Lindsey, Hilary, and Brant.”

Annabelle nodded pleasantly at them. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said. She gestured to Erin. “This is my friend, Erin.”

“Nice to meet you,” Debbie and Susan declared. Erin agreed quietly, surprising Annabelle. She looked over at her usually energetic friend, surprised to see her standing back slightly, as if uncomfortable. She frowned but faced the others, engaging them in a conversation about the game as they waited in line.

When they had their drinks, Annabelle was reluctant to say goodbye to the group. She waved at them and bid them goodbye, joining Erin as she headed back to their seats.

“How do you know them?” Erin asked slowly.

“Who?” Annabelle asked, surprised. She looked back toward the food stand, then at Erin. “You mean Debbie and Susan? They’re in my math class.”

Erin hesitated. “They’re… interesting.”

Annabelle frowned. She knew what Erin was saying—Debbie and Susan and their friends weren’t part of their crowd, and Annabelle shouldn’t associate with them—but the girls had been incredibly nice to Annabelle. She enjoyed their company and hanging out with them in class. It wasn’t like they had invited her to start hanging out with them after school or asked her to go to a party. It was just nice to have people to talk to who weren’t so… fake… all the time.

But still, she understood Erin’s warning all-too well. Her good mood subdued, she sat back down on the bleacher, handing Claudia her drink.

“Thanks, sweetie!” Claudia sang.

Annabelle tried not to sigh as she wrapped her arms around herself, sipping on her soda. Erin was right… She needed to be careful. If Claire had seen her, it would have been almost as bad as when Claire had seen her with Ebony.

The thought made her shudder. Luckily, she was saved from having to think about it any longer. The cheerleaders stood back up and started waving their pompoms at the crowd, encouraging the audience to cheer.

The game was starting again.

They burst into wild catcalls and applause as the football players returned to the field, waving their hands up at the bleachers. Annabelle screamed until she felt like her lungs would explode, trying to force all the other thoughts out of her mind. Trevor was going back out onto the field, and she was going to support him.

The first couple of downs started out perfectly. Annabelle’s breath caught in her throat as she watched Trevor pull back, preparing for another forward throw down the field.

And then everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

One minute his arm was back in the air, ready to send the ball flying perfectly down the field, and then the next, Trevor was buried under a pile of bodies, Lincoln colors covering him completely.

Annabelle’s heart fell into her stomach as the crowd gasped in horror. She leapt up and ran to the edge of the bleachers, staring down in terror at the field below. The other players had gathered around Trevor, and as she watched, the coach and some other people ran out onto the field. There was a piercing whistle blow as the ref called a time out.

Each second ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace as the crowd grouped around Trevor prevented her from seeing him. All around her, the audience buzzed and hummed with whispers as everyone waited in trepidation for some sign that Trevor was okay. Annabelle could hear the blood rushing in her ears, drowning out almost everything else as she waited, her eyes glued to the cluster of football players.

The boys suddenly broke apart. Trevor walked out of the middle, the audience erupting into thunderous screams. Annabelle nearly fell to her knees in relief, watching as he held his left hand up to the crowd, his right arm against his stomach.

His right arm…?

Trevor was hurt!

Sure enough, Trevor headed off of the field and to the locker room. Annabelle turned and ran down