Page 38 of Home Field Advantage

“It both is and isn’t exactly what I imagined,” I say, which feels like the truest response I can give.

She laughs. “That’s very diplomatic of you. My other grandmother—my dad’s mom—used to come over every Sunday, and she loved this room. She bought just about everything in it.”

“The one who writes a big check every birthday?”

“That’s the one. She used to come by a lot, until my dad had his first new kid. Now I see her maybe once a year, butredecorating is expensive, and anyway, she’s helped me with so much, and I like knowing that my room would still make her happy.” She fiddles with a stuffed alligator, or maybe it’s a crocodile—its teeth are showing. “Hell, even the polo shirt I wore today was a Christmas present from her. I should probably make some changes, especially since she moved up to Myrtle Beach. I don’t know if I’ll see her this year at all. But it’s not like I hate it.” She shrugs. “I got to choose this wall color instead of the pink she wanted, and the black-and-white sheets instead of florals. And I do love cheerleading and my friends.”

“Okay, but if you were decorating it from scratch instead of pleasing someone else,” I ask, settling into her desk chair, “what would it have been?”

“Probably something stupid,” she says in a voice that lets me know she’s definitely thought about this a hundred times. “More travel-themed stuff, maybe. Miguel and I have talked a million times about going to Havana one day to see where his grandfather grew up, but honestly, I’m happy to go anywhere that’s farther than Georgia. I’ve never gone beyond this little corner of the US.”

“What else?”

She hugs her knees to her chest. “Okay, so, there’s this really funky artist who does pop art—you know, like Andy Warhol stuff—of celebrities, and not that I’m a starfucker or anything, but there’s this one print she has of Lizzo that’s amazing. I’m obsessed. It’d go right over there.” She points at a spot on thefar wall. “And I would definitely have a more modern desk, maybe one made of, like, smoky glass or something. I saw one on a show once and I thought it was the coolest thing.”

“This is turning into a very eclectic room.”

“Oh, I know. I have no cohesive taste. That’s why it’s probably for the best that a sixty-five-year-old woman designed this one. If it were up to me, and I could afford anything, I’d replace that light fixture with one of those little chandeliers from the bathroom at Gutter Kittens. You know, the ones with the purple glass beads? God, it would be so ugly.”

“Why stop at the chandeliers? Why not just decorate the whole thing like the inside of your favorite bowling alley?”

“Yes!” Her smile lights up the entire room. “Who needs wheat-colored carpet when you could have an aubergine-and-forest-green paisley? And these walls would definitely benefit from stripes.”

“And there’s your design for shoe storage,” I point out. “Right under your Lizzo art, you can have those wooden cubes and fill them with all the bowling shoes you can dream of.”

“Gosh, that sounds beautiful,” Amber says dreamily.

“Doesn’t it? And you already have a trophy case.” I gesture to the small one on her wall, full of gold-tone cheerleaders and medals. “This place practicallyisGutter Kittens already.”

“Okay, I think this is starting to depress me,” she says, but she’s laughing.

I glance at the door, which is still cracked open, and decide to take my chances and crook my finger in her direction. Shehops off the bed and sits her tiny butt on my lap, and our lips meet for a kiss.

“What about cheerleading?” I ask when we part, fiddling with the ends of her hair. “Was that grandmother-influenced too?”

“Nope, that was all me. I know you think it’s silly, but it’s not just, like, a bunch of girls jumping around in short skirts.”

“Hey, I know it’s not,” I say, and I do, but also, isn’t it, kind of?

The look she gives me suggests the combination of my words and expression are every bit as predictable (with the same edge of disappointment) to her as her room initially was to me. “You know we have the exact same weight-training class as you, right? Same frequency, too?”

I didn’t actually know that, but I’ve definitely noticed the cheerleaders are in killer shape. “Amber, you lift humans and throw them in the air. And nobody watches you more closely when you do it than I do. I promise, I know you’re not just a girl jumping around in a short skirt. Although I do very much like the short skirt.”

When her eyes narrow, I wish I could take back the joke at the end, erase any doubt that I see her as first and foremost a peppy pair of legs. “I love cheerleading,” she says evenly. “My entire family is basically my mom, who works nights half the time, and still, I’m never lonely because I have an entire squad full of sisters. I practically lived at Cara’s growing up. Ella and Virany’s family took me on vacation with them to Disneywhen we were kids and I was the only kid on the squad who’d never been. And I get to be athletic and make people happy and have fun with my friends and show off amazing skills, and I’mgoodat it. Cheerleading was my choice. It will always be my choice.”

Then she presses her lips shut, and I know there’s more she’s not saying. “What?” I nudge, trying to keep my voice gentle.

She huffs out a breath. “Cheerleading isalsosomething I need. I need something that makes me stand out. I need something that makes people give a shit about me, because let’s face it, half my DNA-givers sure don’t. And I need something to put on my college applications so I can get the hell out of here. It’s so much pressure, and I’m not sure you get how hard it is for me and what it means that I’m risking it on you.”

“You thinkIdon’t get how hard it is?” Of all the bullshit. “It’s been hell here for me; you know that better than anybody. And I wouldn’t say you’re taking a huge risk when we’re Atherton’s best-kept secret.” Well, third-best secret, after the Cara/Robbie revelation and, of course, AHS’s most beloved couple: her and Miguel. But I’m not looking to get into an even bigger argument right now, so I keep that to myself. “It took you worrying I might get tossed out of school to clip one of those stupid things on my shirt, and don’t think I noticed you chose one that couldn’t possibly get traced back to you. I know you decorated yours with the squad. Everyone could tell the clips on Miguel’s shirt were yours.”

“I still came to your rescue. You didn’t have to throw a shit fit like that so I’d have no choice but to help you.”

“The teamliedto me about what to wear today. The entire school was looking at me like I’m a fucking idiot who’s obsessed with being quarterback.”

“Who cares?” She throws her hands in the air. “You think anyone would like you better if you’d gone ahead and worn a pristine Lacoste shirt? News flash, Jack: nothing is going to make it okay to them that you replaced Robbie. If you haven’t noticed that by now, you’re…”

She trails off, but I won’t let her. “I’m what?” I demand. “YouknowI notice that particular fact every fucking day, so what is it you think I am?”

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