Page 25 of Come Break My Heart Again

I roll my eyes. “I’m not quitting the team. The season just started, and Iamthe captain. I can’t screw the squad over like that.”

Keira sighs, then ties her braid off and starts stretching. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”

“What about Archer?” Juliet asks.

“I’m going to end it.” It feels good to say the words, like a powerful form of relief. A weight lifted. Salve on a stinging wound. A decision I’ve been dreading made.

Keira’s head whips up, her eyes wide.

Juliet looks just as surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah. Why do you look so shocked?”

“I just … honestly? I kinda thought you two would end up married someday. Maybe break up during college, and then he’d show up at your graduation with a five-carat ring and beg for a second chance.”

I snort. “You’ve obviously been spending way too much time at my house, around my mother.”

“Hey, if you want to break up with him, break up with him. I’m just saying, he’s hot and rich, and he obviously adores you. Don’t end it on a random whim.”

I stare at Juliet, totally taken aback. Archerobviously adoresme? “I think you’re confusingadorationwithhe wants to sleep with me.”

Juliet shrugs. “Maybe. But he cares. He’s the one who planned your whole birthday party. Keira and I barely did anything.”

I glance at Keira, who nods.

“It’s true.”

“He just wanted an excuse to keep partying after the Fourth,” I say.

My birthday is July 5, so it usually gets lost in the inevitable, hungover letdown following the national holiday.

A whistle on the field signals the end of warm-ups. I climb to my feet, brushing a few errant blades of grass off my bare thighs before walking over to the bench.

Thompson wins the coin toss and takes the kickoff, starting the game. I move into formation on the sideline with the rest of the squad even though I doubt we’ll have much to do until our halftime performance.

Sure enough, Thompson scores three touchdowns in the first half. Green jerseys trudge off the field with slumped shoulders.

“Rough start,” Maddie Peterson mutters under her breath as we walk out onto the field.

“No kidding,” I whisper back.

The Fernwood fans in the crowd perk up as we start our routine. That energy quickly fizzles as play resumes. Fernwood improves, only allowing one more touchdown during theremainder of the game. But the zero on the scoreboard for our side doesn’t suggest much to celebrate.

As soon as the final whistle is blown, I gather up my gear, stuff it in my cheer bag, and then follow Keira toward the parking lot. She’s driving me home to get ready for the party tonight—our stereotypical Friday nights.

“See you soon!” Maddie calls out, skipping by with Fleur Williamson.

Maddie is hosting tonight’s party. She lives a couple of streets over from me, and her parents travel out of town a lot. Both make her place an ideal location.

I pull my phone out of my pocket as I cross the parking lot, gnawing on my bottom lip as I debate what to text Archer.Good gamedoesn’t work.Sorry you lostisn’t great either.

A few seconds later, my phone gets pushed back into my pocket. I’ll decide on a message in the car.

The parking lot is crowded, everyone eager to leave. Not much socializing is happening. Mostly just headshakes or shoulder shrugs as people pass each other.

Fernwood is used to being the best at everything. It’s the wealthiest town in the state. The football team’s terrible record is an ongoing source of embarrassment. A reminder that talent is something you can’t buy.

I glance around, looking for Keira’s Jeep since I’ve lost sight of her. My steps slow as soon as I spot the sedan parked in one corner of the parking lot.

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