Page 25 of Chess Not Checkers
I glance over again. Still staring. Unabashedly. My skin warms on behalf of Marigold. There’s something about the way he looks at her that’s unnerving. As if he’s being chained to the wall he’s leaned against and would do anything to cross the room and be with her. The blonde chatting him up doesn’t stand a chance. The expression Jameson wears is the same tortured one my brother-in-law, Levi, used to wear before he and Dahlia finally got together.
“I think it’s a pretty one-sided conversation,” I inform her.
She cuts her gaze to the side to catch a glimpse of Jameson. Whatever she sees makes her gaze fall to the ground, pain twisting her features.
“I need to go,” she mumbles. “I should rest. I haven’t slept all week.”
She hasn’t, but we both know that isn’t why she’s about to run out of here.
“Do you want me to come with you?” I ask.
Marigold shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll text you when I make it back.”
I nod. I was about to ask her to do just that. “I’ll see you later. Be safe!”
We exchange a quick hug before she weaves her way through the crowd. She doesn’t go to the front door, though. Instead, she heads toward the back, avoiding Jameson altogether. He watches her the entire time. Whatever happened between them to make them enemies, something tells me Jameson wishes it hadn’t.
“Jasmine,” Emmaline yells near my ear, making me jump. She’s giggling, an arm linked with Shelley and the other with another teammate of ours, Kate. “One of the guys said we should do a stunt outside. Do you want to be our flyer?”
I almost laugh in her face. I watched how much they’ve drunk, and while they aren’t wasted, they’re certainly far too tipsy for me to let themthrow me in the air.
“You know what would be an even better idea?” I ask instead of flat-out refusing. Their eyes light up at my tone. “If we did one of our dance routines. I bet you could get Carson to change the music on the speakers.”
While it sounds mildly embarrassing to do a dance routine in front of a bunch of people, I’m worried they’ll find another girl to toss if I say no. Plus, what is college if not four years of embarrassing yourself in various ways?
“I’ll go ask him,” Kate says with another giggle. “Get as many girls as you can. It’ll be like one of those flash mob dance videos, but better.”
I can’t help but laugh. This is going to be awful. But it’ll be a moment to remember. Grief prods at my tender heart. I think of my mom, always ready to document our memories, and my dad, always eager to help make the best ones. I draw in a deep breath, and start looking for girls in cheer uniforms. If I keep ruminating, I’ll end up crying. My mom would want me to dance. I smile. Yeah, she would get a kick out of this.
Once we’ve gotten all the girls together, Carson cuts the music and steps in front of our group.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he booms in slurred speech. “We have a treat tonight. A special performance from none other than the Thrashers cheerleaders!”
Cheers and applause ring out, making my ears buzz.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I say under my breath.
Claudette, the teammate closest to me, looks over with a smile. “Me either. I might die from embarrassment.”
I laugh. “I guess if we’re going down, at least we’re going down together.”
“I hope this doesn’t end up going viral. My friends back home will never let me hear the end of it.” Claudette is from New York, which she says will always be home to her.
I shake my head, not wanting to point out the number of cell phone cameras already trained on us. My eyes scan the faces of the crowd before us. I’m used to performing in front of tens of thousands of people on the field and at competitions, but this is different. Everyone is soclose. They could reach out and touch us. This was a terrible idea. Why did I think this was better than turning them down?
Right as the music starts, Shepherd pushes to the front. The smirk he’s wearing says he thinks this is as hilarious as I would if I was an outsider. I lift my chin, paste on my best cheer smile, and join my girls in our routine. If I’m going to do this, I’m going all out. Even if my face is on fire.
We finish our dance with only a few minor hiccups from our more tipsy squad members. Applause roars through the house, and I lean against Claudette, laughing. The crowd starts to disperse again, but Shepherd doesn’t leave. I walk over to him. He claps as I do.
“I didn’t know the Thrashers did private performances.”
“I think that was our first and last,” I say with a laugh.
He grins. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Carson was eating it up. Expect to be asked at every party from now till the end of the season.”
“I’m going to have to start skipping parties,” I deadpan, making him laugh.
“Everyone would miss out then. You were the best one out there.”
