Page 38 of Look What You Made Me Do

The Cats had been in the competition for twenty years and were looking at the Demons like they were mere bugs on the footpath. Their football field was immaculate, decked out in yellow-and-blue flags, making Deluca’s oval look like a mosh pit the morning after a rock concert by comparison.

Simon joined them as Jake called the Demons together and Ella kept her eyes glued to him as they formed an eager huddle. He’d definitely made up for his tardy start. He only had to say jump now and the boys wanted to know how high.

“This is your cue,” Simon said, interrupting her thoughts. “Go down and give your team a pep talk.”

Say what now? “They’re not my team,” Ella demurred as Jake continued to gee them up. What could she possibly offer?

Rosie grabbed Ella’s hand and looked her straight in the eye. “Of course they are,” she said. “You’re their principal. Without them, Deluca’s going to be closed. They’re the only team you’ve got, babe.”

Ella searched Rosie’s face then glanced at Simon. He nodded and gave her an encouraging smile. “What do I say?”

What did a bunch of high school students revved up on nerves and testosterone expect her to say to them? She’d spent the last two years with Cameron trying to figure out teenage boy speak to no avail.

Simon shrugged. “Tell them they’ll get detention for a week if they don’t win.”

Rosie dug him in the ribs. “Not helping, Simon.”

Simon half-laughed as he rubbed at his side. “Tell them to listen to Jake.”

Ella nodded. That sounded like good advice. She stood and made her way down through the almost empty stand, ignoring the stab of disappointment she felt at the lack of Deluca supporters. Especially compared to the packed bleachers on the other side.

Sure, Deluca wasn’t known for its community spirit and this was an away game, but she had hoped. So much was riding on today and home support could make a difference.

Ella caught the odd word of Jake’s speech as she approached. She didn’t understand any of it, but Jake seemed to know what he was doing and Pete and the team were nodding. She stood quietly, waiting for him to finish, feeling every inch the nerdy math teacher intruding on a male bonding ritual.

When he was done with his pep talk he turned away, practically running into Ella, his hands grabbing her arms to prevent a collision. “Oh,” he said, clearly surprised to see her. “Everything okay?”

Up this close he was even sexier and his touch, no matter how impersonal, spread tendrils of warmth everywhere. “I was… wondering… hoping I could talk to the team?”

He hesitated and, for a moment, she thought he was going to tell her no. But then he nodded, his hands still firm on her arms as he leaned in a little.

“They’re nervous,” he murmured. “Keep it light.”

Ella shivered as the low timbre of his voice slid into all her good places. She gave a small nod and his hands dropped away as he stepped aside. Clearing her throat, Ella took his place, super conscious of him hovering behind.

“Well, guys, this is not something I know a lot about but I just wanted to say that I’m proud of you.” She caught Cameron’s gaze and held it. “Very proud.”

He looked nervous and, for a second, she cursed Rachel for keeping them apart for thirteen years. She wished she’d known him as a baby, bonded with him.

Surely things would be easier now?

“So, um… that’s it I guess.” She turned to Jake. “Do you say break a leg or something?”

Pete slapped his forehead in the background as Jake briefly shut his eyes. “No, Ella. Not under any circumstances.”

The whistle blew and she was grateful for the interruption to her completely botched debut pep talk as the starters stomped past her in a cloud of testosterone. Pete and Jake took up position on the sidelines with the rest of the team all kitted up and ready to go.

She noticed Cerberus sitting by a long low bench seat set back a little from the sideline and she wandered over. Rosie, Simon, Daisy and Iris had turned up with the dog half an hour ago which had apparently been Simon’s idea.

A football team needed a mascot according to him. A symbol of their potency. A representation of their strength. Something to strike fear into the hearts of their opponents.

Simon had been amazingly encouraging and supportive of the team but quite how a small, old, stray dog with an abandonment complex fit the bill, she wasn’t sure.

He was hardly a spritely specimen of canine virility.

But Simon had just smiled and said, “He’s Cerberus, the hound from hell. They’re the Deluca Demons. It’s symbolic.”

Cerberus, hound of hell, whimpered in ecstasy as she sat and stroked his soft ears.

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