Page 1 of Home Field Advantage

Chapter One

-AMBER-

Ready, steady, go!

I’ve heard those words so many times they’ve practically lost all meaning. But then again, I’m always ready and always steady. They’re requirements for an Atherton cheerleader, and that goes quintuple for an Atherton cheerleader with aspirations of getting a captain’sCon her sweater.

This year, those words will be coming out of Crystal Miller’s lips every practice. Last year, they came out of Jamie Rhodes’s. The year before that? Tia Ferrera’s. And next year, unless I do something utterly egregious, like light a match withinfifty feet of Sara Copeley’s hair spray nest, they’ll be coming out of mine.

I crushed it at cheer camp this summer. The new tennis shoes I used all my birthday money on are so clean, you could lick the morning dew off ’em. (And I can name at least three football players who’d do it on a dare, too.) I’m one of the only two cheerleaders (the other being my best friend, Cara) who’s been on varsity since freshman year, andstillI’ve watched videos of the routines at least once a day on my (refurbished, shhh) iPhone.

It’s my first day as an official junior, the year everyone will be scrutinizing me to see if I have what it takes to be captain next year, and this feels like a test I’ve been studying for my entire life. (Honestly, the only one, some weeks.) Especially because, according to Crystal, she’s got big news.

I instinctively double-check every inch of my body to make sure I’m in compliance with the squad’s No Jewelry rules, even though I know I have practice prep down to a science, and yank my long chestnut ponytail extra tight.

A quick glance in the mirror reveals that I look like a flatter version of brunette Cheerleader Barbie, and that’s exactly how it should be.

“Ammo!” A screech way too loud to come from such a tiny body breaks into my self-reflection. “Amber, come on. We’re gonna be late.”

“IknowCara Whelan, Our Lady of Perpetual Tardiness, isnotcalling me out on matters of punctuality,” I shoot back, butI jog after her, because she’s right and because being my best friend means she’s genuinely watching out for me.

Probably.

Anyway, Cara is the squad’s smallest and highest-flying member, which means she can get away with pretty much anything. If she were remotely capable of organizing a damn thing, I’d be worried about her as competition for captain, but Cara readily admits she’d be a disaster at the job, if her parents would even let her do it. (Spoiler: Pastor and Mrs. Whelan absolutely would not let her do it.)

We pile into the gym, and though most of us have been seeing one another all summer between cheer camp, shrimp boils, and road trips to the beach and Wakulla Springs, we fall on top of one another like it’s been centuries. “Your hair looks amazing!” I tell Ella Chow, who apparently chopped off about six inches since having us over for a barbecue last week. “I can’t believe you didn’t post a picimmediately.”

“The surprise is so much better,” she says with a grin, twirling around while her cousin Virany whistles. “Of course, I just did it yesterday, since there was no way I was keeping it from y’all for more than twenty-four hours.”

“Speaking of keeping things quiet,” Claire Marlow says with a pointed look at Taylor Broussard, who immediately blushes while everyone else laughs. Taylor and her boyfriend, Matt Devlin, captain of the Alligators, weren’t exactly private about hooking up at Diana Rivera’s pool party a few days ago.

“Ahem.” It isn’t even that loud, but at the sound of CoachArmstrong clearing her throat, we snap to attention. “Welcome back, girls. Sounds like y’all had a fun summer. But I hope everyone watched the videos I emailed and y’all kept up your conditioning around all that partying. You made me proud at camp, and now it’s time to outperform yourselves. As y’all may have heard, there’s some big news today. Miller asked to be the one to tell y’all, and I think she’s earned it.” She gestures at Crystal, who flashes a bright white smile as she faces us.

“Just please tell me we’re gonna get outside today,” Diana begs. “It’s actually halfway nice out.”

I’d been hoping for the same thing, so I’m glad one of the seniors speaks up. While the Panhandle isn’t nearly as gross as South Florida during the rest of the year, August is like living in a sweaty gym sock. If wehaveto come in before school to practice today, the least we can do is take advantage of the fact that we’re only at about 80 percent humidity.

“We’ll go out soon,” Crystal promises, smoothing down her already perfectly pressed black ponytail, “but first, we need to have a private team meeting.” The way she says it sends a little shiver down to my toes, and I throw up a prayer that she isn’t announcing she’s transferring. She’ll recommend me for captain for next year, I’m sure, but if she left early and someone else (her BFF, Nia Johnson, almost definitely) took her spot, who knows what would happen?

Okay, I’m getting paranoid. I need to stop getting paranoid.

“Well?” Zoe Remini asks when Crystal has drawn out more than enough suspense.

Crystal huffs at her, as if her entire dramatic delivery has been ruined. “Well, as we all know, it’s been two months since Robbie’s, um, since Robbie.” A somber mood settles over the squad at the reminder of Robbie Oakes’s fatal car crash at the beginning of the summer, and even tough-as-nails Crystal can’t hide how Atherton’s still feeling the loss in more ways than one. But she presses on, captainly to the core. “And the Alligators’ attempts at a replacement haven’t exactly been cutting it.”

That’s an understatement. We’ve all been watching the football team’s unofficial summer practices and pickup games at the park, especially since the backup quarterback, Drew Henley, up and moved without a word to anyone the week after Robbie died. Now everything rests on Tim Duggan, and everyone knows his throwing arm works for about three passes before it descends into limp noodle state.

Robbie wasn’t exactly a superstar—the Alligators haven’t had a winning season since… ever—but at least he had endurance. And though the Spring Showcase game—Robbie’s last before hitting a tree with a blood alcohol level of twice the legal limit—proved that this coming fall wasn’t gonna be the season they finally made the playoffs either, news (and blooper videos) of Tim’s particularly atrocious performance at their week of two-a-days has been making the rounds.

“So, what’s happening?” Sara Copeley asks, because the girl has the patience of a mosquito.

“Sundstrom found a new quarterback at football camp.”Crystal smiles, her pride at having the scoop before anyone else glaringly obvious. “From Butler. He starts today.”

The entire room erupts.

“Is he hot?”

“Is he single?”

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