Page 131 of Pinkie Promise

Shit, can I still call her that? I mean, surely she wouldn’t come to the championship finals if she was going to break up with me… right?

Or is she here as one final show of support before telling me that we need to go our separate ways?

I swallow thickly, shoving my mouth guard between my teeth like a chew toy. I gnaw on it for a few anxious seconds beforeshouldering Caden and saying, “Hey, hypothetically speaking, if a chick was going to break up with you–”

“Why are you asking Caden about break ups? The dude’s borderline married. Ask Tanner,” Austin says, smirking wickedly.

Tanner uses his stick to smack Austin’s to the ground.

“Good one, asshole, but you can’t experience a break up if you’ve never been in a relationship.”

Then he turns to me like he’s about to say something but, just before he does, his eyes flit to the other side of the ice.

He throws his own stick to the floor and presses his gloves up against the glass.

“What the hell is that?” he says hoarsely, as he stares over to the other end of the arena.

The music changes overhead and we all follow his line of sight.

And the second that I see her, my jaw hits the floor.

“Oh my God,” I say, my heart thundering in my chest.

Because directly in front of us on the other side of the rink, on those long unused mats beneath the huge Carter Ridge Rangers curtain, is Carter U’s cheer squad dressed in their home team colours, cart-wheeling into position, their red bows twinkling.

“What in the ever-loving fuck is happening right now?” I rasp.

But as soon as the words leave my mouth, I know.

That secret event that Fallon has been preparing for ever since she left the comp team?

Thiswhole timeshe’s been training for this – to perform for the home team at thechampionship finals.

A surge of gratitude spears through my chest as I watch her flip on the mats, psyching herself up for her imminent performance.

I shove my glove against my helmet, my head spinning.

So this is why Fallon didn’t quit cheer completely after leaving the comp team, why she was so secretive with me about what she was practising for, and why she already knew so much about the Rangers’ championship game plan.

And even though I won’t allow myself to believe it, deep down I want to think that she’s doing this for me.

“She looks so fucking good,” I murmur, my eyes unblinking as we all stare out across the ice.

“I can’t believe that this is the first time we’ve had our home fucking girls cheering for us pre-game,” Tanner says incredulously, his gloved-fist resting hard against the clear board. “Can you believe thatthisis what we could have been walking out to for four damn years, for every home game we played? Jesus Christ. I’m gonna murder those football guys for stealing them from us this whole time.”

“Which one’s yours?” Austin asks me.

I elbow him in the gut and he ducks away, smirking.

Fallon is dead centre and already posed for action, spinning in sync with two other gymnasts that are flanking her sides. The three of them tuck in their pom-poms and back-flip straight into the arms of their teammates’ cheer baskets, landing steady in their awaiting arms before ditching the pom-poms, jumping, and then landing in handstands that are so incredible my entire team is saying“ohhhh shit!”

“How long do you think it’ll take before our boners die down?” Tanner asks, giving me a look of legitimate concern. “Never played while hard before.”

“Good to fuckin’ know,” I say, shoving him as far away from me as possible.

“I’m serious, man!” he exclaims. Then he adds, “This song slaps.”

I’ve been so focused on Fallon’s little waist in that red and blue costume that I can’t recount a single lyric.

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