Page 43 of The Comeback Pact

“Be back on the bus by three p.m. sharp. If you’re late, we’re leaving your ass, and you’ll be suspended for two games, including homecoming.”

“Yes, sir!” we all call out again. No one dares grumble because none of us will be tempting Coach like that. As a junior, the last thing I would want to do is miss homecoming.

Nerves skate through my stomach like two growling bulldogs going at it. I hope no one fucks this up for us. Coach has already scouted to see if there are any other Warner sporting events happening during our other away games for the rest of the year. I was lucky when I realized that Kenna’s meet was only fifteen minutes out of the way of the route we were taking to get to our game against Zephyr tonight. It was the perfect setup.

I hope… Shit. I hope Kenna actually likes that we’re doing this. I’m bursting to see her dive at a competition. She said she might not get to, and even if she does, it will be an exhibition, but she needs this win. She needs it for herself, and she needs to show her coach that she can do this.

Either way, I’ll be there to support her. We’ll all be there.

“I need anO,” Mitchell calls out.

“Me,” I volunteer, making my way to his spot on the bus.

One of the second-string rookies peers up at me as I pass and then down at his own chest. “I suddenly feel less manly.”

I smirk. “One day, you’ll grow up, too, little man.”

Aidan cups the back of the guy’s head in a placating gesture. “Just not today.”

Mitchell shakes his head while painting a blueOover my chest and abs. The guys start filing off the bus, and I’m so nervous that it’s difficult to get my legs to start moving. It feels like I’m about to show up at my own game. The thrill of competition. The drive to be great. It’s all there, brewing inside me, except it’s all for someone else. It’s…strange, this feeling. Foreign.

One of my teammates starts to clap, two slow ones, then three fast. We erupt in a cheer of “Let’s go, Bulldogs!” as we file off the bus and into the modern aquatic center.

Immediately, the setting is different than I’m used to, even if the feelings are the same. Luckily, the diving competition is scheduled to go first, and if everything starts on time, we’ll be able to just catch Kenna take an exhibition dive before we have to get back on the bus. That is,ifshe gets to dive.

Clap, clap, clap-clap-clap.

“Let’s go, Bulldogs!”

Spectators take out their phones. We climb the bleachers to a spot at the top. I’m behind Cade, who doesn’t mind strutting for all the recordings going on. I can only imagine the gigantic grin on his face.

My head, though, is on a swivel.

Where’s Kenna? Is she out here yet? What will she do when she sees us? Me?

A sophomore on the row of bleachers in front of me complains, “Aw man, they don’t wear bikinis?”

“No, dickhead,” I shoot back. “Do we play football in bikinis? We play in what’s best for our sport.”

He holds his hands up. “Alright, alright.”

Shit. Maybe Kenna and her parents are right about us. Just a bunch of dumb oafs focused on sex and—

A slight figure comes running out of the mouth of a doorway that leads to the pool, eyes wide. She stops with her hands on the doorframe, peering up at the stands.

It’s Kenna.

Clap, clap, clap-clap-clap.

“Let’s go, Bulldogs!”

My heart does a flip inside its cage. She scans my clapping, chanting teammates, and I’m hoping the whole time that she’s searching for one football player in particular—me.

I’m glad I see her first. It gives me a moment to take her in without being spied. A royal-blue one-piece hugs her body, the Bulldog logo inconspicuously hidden near the top right. A pair of Bulldog shorts rounds out her dive attire while a black towel is fisted tight in her hands as she grips the door casing. Still, she searches.

I raise my hand at the same time her gaze shoots to mine, and then I point at her. Like I’m claiming her.

You.

---