Page 76 of Dear Future Husband

“Monedita,” a deep voice called out over the rampage of the crowd. It was Penny’s turn for a bit of whiplash as she twisted to the very tall, very dark, very, very handsome boy strapped in a leather jacket and black denim.

Penny leapt from her spot, right into his arms.

She broke the hug and gestured to me. “Daniel, this is Maybelle.”

Daniel’s black eyes pierced me with a look I couldn’t identify. There was sadness, there was happiness, and there was a lot of familiarity. This boy knew me. I stood, holding a hand to him, but he ignored it as he pulled me into his tight hold.

“It’s good to see you, Maybelle,” he said into my ear, and I easily held him back.

The scrimmage ended with the buzzer ringing through the field. Done with the stiff bleachers, I jumped to my feet. My new friends weren’t as eager to move. Daniel was holding Penny’s thigh while she clasped firmly to his arm, her head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m going to go find Trey and congratulate him. I’ll text you, Penny. It was good to meet you, Daniel!”

They waved me off, and I ran onto the field with the rest of the students, weaving through the crowd. I first found Larson, who had two girls under his arms. I skimmed by Bear, who was speaking to what looked like might be his grandparents.

After a long bout of searching, I finally found Williams, but no Trey.

“Hey, little Mason,” he called. “Follow me. I’ll help you find Turner.”

I followed him down the field, holding to the hem of his sweaty jersey so we wouldn’t get split up. When we broke through the crowd to the outskirts of the field, Williams and I both halted.

The sight before me had that unknown feeling coiling up in my gut again, festering into a dreadful heaviness as I watched my Trey kiss Juliette for all to see.

27 Game On

Trey

The tailgate party was a mess.

Not at all what I imagined Maybelle’s first outing to be. After being ripped from Maybelle, Juliette had cornered me. She kept me isolated by bringing up topics and questions about the upcoming football banquet. Reminding me that I would need a date and other stuff I didn’t care to pay attention to. I only focused on finding Maybelle in the crowd and when I saw her stomping up to me and the cheerleader, I almost fell to my knees before her.

Once the cheerleader bailed, I could see the interaction had affected Maybelle more than she was letting on. I wanted to hold her, comfort her, tell her there was nothing to worry about. But all too soon, I was pulled away again with the team and she to the bleachers.

The scrimmage was a success.

Bear destroyed our opponent’s defensive line. Larson was a commanding voice that worked well with the quarterback. Even Williams got to take to the field for the first time this season as second string QB, proving to the coaches, the team and the rest of the school that he was far from a failed investment.

Liam would be proud.

The game ended, and friends, families and coaches rushed the field. I stalked about the flood of bodies, looking for Maybelle. I said “hi” and acknowledged the families of my brothers as they approached me, but I kept it brief.

I needed my girl. I needed to get her home, spend some much-needed time with her, and fix thisconfusionshe had. Oh, I’d fix it alright. I planned to show her just how not confusing my feelings for her were.

My head was on a swivel as I made my way to the outside of the crowd. Hoping to get a better visual of the entire mass of people.

“Trey!”

In answer, I turned around to see a flash of a blue and gold cheer uniform before arms noosed around my neck and my face was being devoured.

My body tensed, and my lips were stationary as my brain tried to catch up with the assault. I latched onto the hips of my assailant, grabbing, pushing, fighting the urge to chuck her like a rag doll.

When she finally released my face from the steel trap, lips smeared in red lipstick, Juliette’s angular face filled my vision. The rest of the cheer team circled us, shaking their pompoms.

All the surrounding noises were a blurb of ruckus. The only distinct sound I could make out was the shouting of my name.

“Trey!” Juliette called over the tittering and cheering of the pompom girls around us. “Be my date to the football banquet!”

The proposal sounded a lot more like a command than an invitation, and I knew she intended for it to come off that way. The cheerleaders stopped shaking their sparkly pompoms, and the audience went eerily quiet.