Page 1 of Tumbling the Cornerback

CHAPTER 1

LUCAS

“Breathe, baby. It’s all going to be amazing!”

I nodded jerkily, staring at the parking lot we’d turned into a fundraiser. “But it’s eight a.m. and hot as balls,” I whispered. “What if no one shows up?”

Tori, one of the flyers on the cheer squad and a perpetual ray of sunshine, slapped the top of one of the industrial fans, almost as big as us. “That’s what these suckers are for. Sure, we may accidentally blow a few kids to New Mexico, but it’ll be an adventure!”

Marisol snorted, which started me off, and soon all three of us were helplessly giggling, leaning against the huge round fan propped in the pavilion’s opening. Several of the enormous plastic-and-canvas tents were set up through the old Bluebonnet Save Mart parking lot. It had once been a huge discount department store but shuttered during the whole Enron collapse in the Nineties, leaving an empty building that sometimes got thrown into consideration for a convention center or office spaces but mostly just sat there being what folks called an attractive nuisance.

We’d had to come out a few days before the Queering Sports fundraiser to help scrub some very specific and elaborate graffiti off the side of the building.

Grinning, Marisol nudged me with her pointy-ass elbow. “This is gonna be awesome, Lucas. Seriously. Cass is practically vibrating with joy over this whole thing. You did good, kid.”

I gasped in mock-outrage. “Kid? Excuse me, miss first year college student! I’m twentymumble years old!”

Tori rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, such an old man. You’re barely able to drink legally, Gramps.”

“Hold on, Tori, I got something for you here.” I shoved my hand in my shorts pocket and brought it back up with my middle finger extended.

The women burst into laughter, making me grin as we fell to teasing and bothering each other. Putting this event together had been the work of months, fighting hard to find an event space that would let us hold it once they found out what charity we were supporting, then finagling for accessibility and comfort since it was not only going to be in an old asphalt parking lot, sketchy at best when it came to safety, but also in the middle of June in Texas.

Don’t believe what those travel sites show you with the sparkling rivers and lush green grass and shady old oak trees. I mean, yeah, the Hill Country has that, but for the most part it’s just fucking hot. And bright.

It was barely nine a.m., and we were already glistening as my abuelita liked to say. Us pretty people don’t sweat, carino. We glisten!

They were my ride or dies, the four of us having been fast friends from pretty much the moment we each joined the squad and, despite the fact we weren’t even out of our early twenties, we were the longest-serving members, and that gave us an extra layer to our little bubble of closeness. But our time was running short—I'd been there nearly four years now, Tori and Liz for two, Marisol for three. Four was the average lifespan of a pro cheer career. Marisol had her paralegal job, Liz was finishing her education degree, and Tori was in school to be a physician's assistant. I was the only one without somewhere to jump.

When Cass, the squad’s PR lead, ambled over, she found us clustered around one of the industrial fans, soaking up the breeze while we still could. “Y’all ready?” she sing-songed, ever cheerful even while being the most hard-ass PR person you could imagine. “The gates open in less than an hour!”

I peeled away from the fan reluctantly, nodding. “All of the tents are prepared, volunteers have been prepped, the water dispensers are full, and the ice machine we rented is working and full of ice. The swag bags,” I pointed to the long table at the back of the tent, “are all packed and ready. The?—”

She laid her hand on my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze before discreetly wiping her hand on her denim shorts. I was sweaty—did I mention that already? “A simple yes works just fine,” she chuckled. “The players are already here and will be mingling with the crowd off and on throughout the day. Be nice,” she added, glancing at me sharply.

I held up my hands, defensive. “I’m a constant freaking delight!”

Liz, ambling up from organizing the bags so the kids could find their own names easier, barked a laugh. “Don’t lie, Lucas. You’re setting a bad example for the newbies.”

Tori nodded. “Yeah, you gotta make sure to set a good example, dumbass.”

Cass rolled her eyes. “Classy. All of you. Just absolutely classy.” She grinned at our giggling, then motioned for me to follow her towards the front of the tent. Tori and Liz gave me that raised eyebrow you good? look. I nodded, even though I felt like I was being hauled in front of the principal.

“Don’t look so scared,” Cass laughed. “I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of the job you did here. I know, I know—the whole squad worked together with the PR team, and the Queering Sports group is fantastic, but you pushed for the squad to take on Queering Sports as y’all’s charity focus. And you busted your ass to make this come together when everything got...” Her smile fell. “Well. There were some huge chuckholes in your path, that’s for sure. But you worked hard, Lucas, and did an amazing job. All of the squad did. But,” she leaned in and, in a conspiratorial whisper, added, “you pulled this whole thing over the finish line.”

My face warmed and I knew I was blushing. And, not gonna lie, I did a little happy wriggle at her praise. I had worked hard; I had been super aggressive and busted my ass. I’d been the loudest voice yapping for this to happen. “Thank you,” I sighed. “It’s obviously something near and dear to my heart and, well, I know the kids in QS need all the support they can get.”

I’d been a kid like that once, without an awesome group like Queering Sports behind me. Participating in sports in a safe, fair environment that was supportive as well and allowed me to express myself had been an uphill battle.

“Well, that brings me to the next point—the players.”

My smile fell.

“Look, I don’t know the whole story about why you’re such a prickly pear with the players, but you gotta at least pretend to like them today, alright?”

At her stern, no-nonsense tone, I nodded. “I know. I’ll keep the fangs retracted. Who’s it going to be today anyway? Yowie? Matty?” Those guys were alright. We weren’t besties or really even acquaintances, but they didn’t act like dicks when we ran into one another at events and had never said anything shitty about the squad.

She shook her head. “He’s got a prior commitment. But Wyatt and Ryeland are coming as is the newest member—Cooper Howard.”

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