Page 53 of Final Down

“Hmm. She’s not wrong. Not in Coolidge anyway.”

Everyone loves you when you win.

“I don’t know if this is the squad that can do that, if I’m being real. They’re scrappy, and I have a few tumblers, but the program doesn’t have the support like it did when I was the captain.”

Or the talent.

“So, find yourself ayouand make her captain.”

I ruminate on Wyatt’s advice for a few seconds. I’m not sure there’s a girl like me on the squad.

“Thanks, babe. That’s good advice. I’m gonna look for someone.”

I may need to find that person outside of the team and beg them to join, which wouldn’t be a first for any sport at Coolidge. Hell, the underhanded recruitment that happens with high school football around here crosses state lines. I merely want to poach a volleyball player, or maybe a hidden gem who never tries out for anything.

“I gotta hit the field. I’ll call you as soon as I get to the apartment tonight. Love you.”

I blow a kiss into the phone before he ends the call, then finish my drive to the high school, pulling into the lot a few minutes before students file out to head home or to practices.

I park in the faculty section and grab my bag, heading inside before I have an audience. I feel as though this entire thing has put a new spotlight on me, like when I was a student here and my dad was still playing. It’s strange how a high school campus can make anyone feel like an awkward adolescent again. The whispering. The name calling. This place sometimes assignspeople in roles whether they want them or not. Bullies, nerds, loners. I’ve worn each of those titles at some point.

The gym is quiet when I step inside, the last PE class for the day done. I sneak up the steps to the mats upstairs, then pause at the large white board. Maybe this whole thing should be democratic. It takes me a few minutes to write every team member’s name on the board, and by the time I click the cap back on the pen, half of the squad is upstairs with me and stretching.

I step in front of the short senior who is going to be our flyer this season.

“Kyra, how long have you been cheering?”

She stretches an arm across her body as she scrunches her face in thought. “Seven years? Yeah . . . seven.”

I nod and mutter, “Thanks.”

When Lily, the other senior on the team, arrives, I ask her the same question. She came up through the same cheer club I did, so I’m not surprised when she says she started at eight.

It would be easy to make the two of them co-captains. They don’t fall into the bully category, and they’re talented. But neither is the kind of leader who inspires. Or maybe I simply don’t see it. And that makes a team vote feel like an even better idea.

“Hey, Coach? You can take Alissa’s name off the board. She quit,” says Amosa, a sophomore like Alissa.

My gut drops, and I can’t help the audible sigh I let out.

“Why did she quit?”

I know why. Because her mom made her. And because she’s the center of attention in a fight she didn’t pick.

Amosa shrugs, but our gazes connect for a beat, long enough for a shared frowning expression.

Amosa and Alissa are friends. I’ve seen them together outside of practice. I remember them both at games asfreshmen, sitting in the stands, cheering with glitter on their faces. They were into school spirit without the hype of a cheer uniform. I get the feeling that both tried out simply to have something fun to do together and to be part of a team that liked to support the Bears as much as they did.

I turn to the board and pick up the eraser, hovering it over Alissa’s name for a few seconds while I imagine this squad without her. I can’t even imagine today’s practice without her, honestly. She has this way of showing effort that’s infectious. I honestly think some of the stronger girls try harder just because Alissa does.

I put the eraser back and flip around to face the squad, folding my arms over my chest.

“What’s with the names, Coach?” Lily asks.

I pull my lips in tight, giving myself a second for a gut check before floating a wild idea out there.

“I was considering holding a vote today for team captain. I think you ladies are talented enough to really compete, but you’re missing that extra drive. When I was cheering here, and at Arizona, we had strong leadership that pushed us all to be our best, together.”

Amosa clears her throat, and I lift a brow as I glance at her.

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