Page 80 of Chess Not Checkers
Shepherd Kingsley
I’d say this is the greatest day of my life, but it might be a waste of breath, because every day with Jasmine is bound to get better.
After a morning of coffee and muffins and messing up Jasmine’s lipstick, I got to play in an electric stadium full of incredible fans andwin. The press, by some miracle, didn’t mention my brother once, and now I’m walking into a party I plan on sneaking away from with Jasmine as soon as everyone else around us is too occupied to notice.
“That rule about the cheerleaders hasn’t gotten to me until now,” Pete says as we walk inside the Gamma Phi house. “I feel like homecoming is a night made for kissing a cheerleader.”
I shoot him an unamused look. While I might be itching to kiss a certain cheerleader myself, it’s not because it’s homecoming.
“You’re an idiot,” Cade says before I can. “Coach wouldn’t even have to make a rule because none of these girls would want to kiss you.”
“You don’t know that. Some girls have low standards,” Zion cackles.
I think I hear Pete call them jerks, but I don’t catch it once a song with a heavy bass starts rattling the house. I wade through a sea of people clothed in blue, white, and gray. There are guys who look like they bathed in blue paint. It chips off their skin and peppers the sticky floors. And it seems like every girl has glitter either on her face or body or hair, or all three. The smell of alcohol is thicker than ever. I spot a table stacked with bottles of liquor. Next to it are a few kegs along with a blue cooler I’m sure is loaded down with drinks and ice.
My eyes scan the room for Jasmine, but I can’t find her.
“Shepherd!” Carson shouts as he approaches with not one, but two cups in his hand. He takes a drink out of the right one while lifting the other up. “Cheers to another win! Undefeated!”
I laugh. “We’re not undefeated anymore. We lost two weeks ago.”
His brows scrunch together. “We aren’t? That sucks.” He shrugs. “Once defeated, but nevermore!” he shouts, earning a cheer from those around us.
I shake my head. “Does anything ever get you down?”
“Nope.” He exaggerates the ‘p’ sound. “I live on the mountaintop.”
“What’s your secret?”
He lifts his cups to the side of my face, smushing my cheeks with the cold plastic. “Don’t worry, be happy,” he says slowly, as if he was coming up with it on the spot. He pulls his cups back and tips one to his lips.
“I feel like you’re going to have some worries tomorrow morning.”
He shrugs. “That’s tomorrow. We live for tonight, my friend!”
I chuckle. “Whatever you say.”
Carson begins to wax poetic, saying different versions of you only live once, but a familiar head of curly brown hair steals my attention. Jasmine stands in a circle with her roommates. She’s wearing her cheerleading uniform, which she looks amazing in, but I can’t help but wish she could have changed into my jersey. Next week, I tell myself.
Just a few more hours, and then we’ll tell Bash and all will be right. At least, that’s my hope. Doubt has crept in a few times, but I’m confident if we bring it up to him—and MJ—in a relaxed way, he’ll see he was being overprotective and will support our relationship.
Though he might not like that we’ve kept it a secret for so long, I think it gave us a chance to settle into our relationship and be confident in our choice. I know for certain that Jasmine is worth the risk, and football, while important to me, isn’t where my worth is. That makes it a lot easier for me to face my fear of disappointing the coach that took in both my brother and me.
As if she can sense me watching her, Jasmine’s eyes find me. She gives me a bright and sweet smile. I take a mental snapshot of it. I’m considering finding a way to talk to her when one of the freshmen on the team, Brayden, bumps into me.
“Hey! Just the man I was looking for,” he says with excited eyes. “Do you want to be my partner in beer pong?”
“No, I do not, and you won’t be playing that either.”
His face falls. “Why not?”
I take the red plastic cup from his hand and pour the contents into one of Carson’s cup. He looks at it, takes a sip, then shrugs.
“Because we’re both underage, and unless you want to lose your scholarship and have your mom see your mug shot on ESPN, I suggest you hold off on the alcohol.” I infuse as much authority as I can into my tone.
Most of the freshmen listen to me, but in all reality, I have no say on what he does outside of practice. I just have to hope Brayden values my opinion enough to listen.
“Listen to the guy, kid, he’s undefeated,” Carson slurs.
