Page 38 of The Kid Sister

So, unless I sprained my ankle again, I was going to have to see out the season. Though deep down I knew I would hate to miss out. Football was everything to me, carrying drinks was everything to me, the Chargers making championship play-offs was everything to me.

It was a matter of sucking up my shame, keeping out of Cullen’s way and doing my job. I could do it.

I would have to do it.

Chapter 12

Sierra

How was it that thealgebra equations I’d studied a day ago were now a blank void in my mind, yet that moment when my lips touched Cullen’s seemed to be imprinted in my brain for eternity? That sweet second where our lips brushed in the gentlest of breezes, a whispered caress that ignited the sparks of my soul and continued to burn there.

Gah...I was sounding like a sixteenth century poet gushing about the throes of first love. Except in my case it was unrequited first love, living out my own Shakesperian tragedy in the twenty first century.

It was Friday afternoon and I reluctantly put on my fluorescent vest which would make me stand out when I wanted to be invisible, and I slowly pushed the cart out onto the field. Like, really slowly, hoping I wouldn’t run into Cullen, that he would be on the other side of the field directing his offensive line.

When it came time to take out the bottles, I kept my distance. Yet, a silly part of me wanted to talk to him, to ask how his granddad was doing, how he was doing, but then I would think about that stupid kiss again, of Cullen’s brisk and sharp separation, and I stepped back into the shadows.

Coach called it early, knowing we had a big day tomorrow. There was another team talk to keep morale high. I stood in the back, cheering, chanting, joining in loudly because despite my silly action, this is what I loved. And my traitorous heart, although wounded, beamed as Cullen fired up his team for what we hoped was the penultimate game.

“One more sleep, boys,” he said, like he was a parent on Christmas Eve, and everyone laughed, but then he added, “and girls.” He smiled at Millie who was standing to the side, camera around her neck, notepad in hand. But his eyes darted around like he was searching for someone else. My heart jumped and I looked down at my shoes, scuffed and a little muddy. In all the excitement and commotion, Cullen’s voice softened and he said, “Believe. Right?”

It was like there was a delay, no one sure whether a response was required, but then there was a unified shout of, “Believe!” which was followed by a round of applause. I’d frozen by then, my shuddering heart paralyzing me. Only as Coach Mercer dismissed everyone did I coax my legs into action. I freely gathered the bottles and baskets knowing that the team were back in the locker room.

“Good job, Sierra,” Coach Mercer said, approaching with his clipboard tucked under his arm.

“Thank you sir,” I said.

“Mrs. Mercer will be back tomorrow,” he said, “so we’ll have the full team.”

“That’s good,” I said, having already suspected that she would be. “How’s Mr. Stanhope doing?”

“Very well, thank you,” Coach said, patting my shoulder. “Now you rest well tonight. Big day tomorrow.”

I nodded, running off with a smile because I liked how Coach had told me to prepare for the game as if I was one of the players.

My phone pinged in my vest pocket with Mom saying she was in the parking lot. It was perfect timing as I pushed the cart toward the storage room. I hung up my vest and grabbed my pink jacket and hitched my backpack over one shoulder. I clicked the lock on the door, ensuring it was closed firmly.

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