Page 26 of To Love or to Lose
“Clearly.” I move to get out of the car, but Logan locks the doors before I can.
“Listen, Jameson, Gen is one of my closest friends, and I love that girl. I know you don’t see it, but she’s a good person, and we all want the best for her. Please, don’t fuck her up.”
I look at him sincerely, no longer wanting to joke. “I don’t think I could fuck her up if I tried. That girl is steel.”
Logan smiles. “She never claimed to be a minnow, that girl has only ever been a shark.”
If there was anything to take away from Genevieve Alderidge, it would be that.
The girl is afuckingshark. She circles her prey until it surrenders to her will, and on the rare chance they don’t concede, she rips them apart.
The football game student section is an absolute mess.
It’s the first home game of the regular season. There are people throwing water bottles to soak the crowd, some are spraying silly string, and there’s even an entire group of people covering others in navy and white paint.
The chaos surrounding me causes the lei around my neck to feel much more snug than before.
“Do you want to stand on the bleachers or at the bottom?” Eloise asks as we reach the bottom of the student section, looking up at the mass number of kids—all dressed in a slight variation of the same outfit.
Most of the seniors don’t occupy the bleachers, and prefer to stand against the railings, making for a difficult half time when everyone has to find somewhere to sit, but at least we get the best seats for the game.
I scan the mass of people, looking for Winnie.
“We can stay at the railing, I enjoy being the center of attention,” I tell her, feigning superiority. She grabs my arm, dragging me toward the middle of the sizable crowd. “I didn't mean thedirectcenter.”
I’m surrounded by people, to the point where I could likely decipher what half of them ate for dinner. The air becomes thicker the closer I get to the center of the crowd, making it feel as if the people surrounding me are stealing the air from my lungs.
Noah Sommers breaks through the center, commanding the entire crowd and forcing people into starting chants when someone places a megaphone in his hand.Just what he needs.
The closer we get to the start of the game, the rowdier the crowd gets. Seniors start yelling at underclassmen to get their asses to the top of the bleachers, and the large group continues to disperse along the railing.
The game begins, and our team is off to a good start. In return, our student section is going absolutely nuts, cheering after Luke scores one hell of a touchdown.
“Yes!” Eloise shouts, and I step away before she damages my hearing. While she’s outwardly passionate about our friend’s accomplishment, I prefer to smile and clap.
Eventually, we spot Winnie in the crowd. She drove herself since it would have been more out of my way if I had to pick up herandEloise.
The game is going well, and our team is winning after scoring in both of the first two quarters, and once halftime approaches, Eloise and I quickly meet Winnie near the top of the bleachers to get a seat.
“Why aren’t you at the bottom with all the seniors?” Eloise asks Winnie as we take a seat next to her.
“It’s too crowded for me.”
Of all of us, Winnie has the worst social anxiety, making it harder for her to enjoy these types of school events.While I don’t love them, I can withstand the shoving of the crowds and the loud spoken people, but Winnie cannot.
The halftime show passes where the marching band performs, and I become increasingly aware of the fact that Jameson is here, directly behind me, a few rows back.He is collecting attention like a kid in a candy shop. Guys are trying to become friends with him, girls are attempting to become…more than friends with him.
I’m sure the attention is doing wonders for an ego like his, and I can’t help but hate him for how likable he seems to be without even trying.If only people saw what I saw in him, maybe they all wouldn’t be so drawn to him.
I snap out of my daze, refocusing my attention on the game.We’re still winning by a long shot, which only makes the crowd more and more wild as time goes on.
The clock is ticking down, and I have yet to be assaulted by a water bottle or silly string.
Thank God.
“Gen, where is Winnie Carter?” Someone calls to me down the long row of people. I look to see a boy I recognize from school, though I don’t know his name.
My brows furrow in confusion. “Why?”Did something happen?
