Page 35 of Counter Bet

I grin, throwing my arm over her shoulder as we enter the classroom. “That’s my girl.”

* * *

The entire school is buzzing about today’s away game. Football is a huge thing here in our small town, and it’s sacrilege if you’re not into it.

We find seats toward the back of the bleachers as the principal taps on the microphone, causing it to make a high-pitched screech that nearly deafens us all.

“We need face paint next time,” Josh says, taking a seat next to me.

Matt unscrews the lid on his soda, then throws it at an unsuspecting student a couple of rows down. “I told you. I’ll paint my face black and blue when you fuck Ms. Betty.”

Josh pales. “Can you not suggest someone more attractive than the receptionist. She’s ancient! And she wears those pleated checkered skirts that go below the knees. Not the sexy kind that British girls wear to school. No! The grandma kind.”

Matt tips his head back and downs the soda. His throat bobs before he lowers the bottle and says, “Like I said, when you fuck Ms. Betty, then we’ll talk.”

“She has a spot on her nose, Matt. It’s huge.”

April grabs Matt’s drink off him, ignoring his incredulous stare. “It’s a wart, Josh.” She drinks the rest of the soda, throwing the empty bottle behind her carelessly.

Josh drops his head back with a groan. “Why is this my life? I just want us to show some school spirit.”

Dallas looks up from the game on her phone. “You need locking up, Josh. Probably even the old shock treatment.”

Squashed between Matt and Josh, I search the room for Princess and find her seated at the front with the rest of the cheer squad.

She’s dressed in her blue and black cheer uniform with her blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail and her long creamy legs on full display. If she’s nervous, she doesn’t show it.

I play games on my phone while the principal drones on and on about the football team’s achievements and the importance of school spirit—all things I don’t give a shit about.

Up next is the school band, and their music is crap as always. A group of five-year-olds could play better music with pans and cutlery.

Dallas rests her head on Steph’s shoulder, groaning with boredom.

Nina entertains herself in typical Nina fashion. Using a pair of stolen scissors, she leans forward and cuts ringlets off the girl in front.

April pops her gum.

Matt and Josh play Rock, Paper, Scissors—much to my annoyance since I’m squashed in the middle.

I glare at Josh.

He shrugs. “One more time. Best of three wins.”

And they’re off again, waving their fucking hands in my face.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

Matts wraps his hand around Josh’s closed fist and whoops. “Paper beats rock.”

“Yeah, but my rock is too heavy for your paper. Look at that! Your paper is tearing down the middle. Oh, what a shame.”

I lean back as they jostle each other.

“My paper owns your fucking puny rock.”

“The only thing your paper is good for is to shoot spitballs. I can crack coconut shells with my rock.”

I roll my eyes.

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