Home Sweet Drama (16 page)

We got in line at the concession stand and the line moved surprisingly fast. We ordered corn dogs, giant sodas, and waffle fries. Paige looked around the stands, then pointed.

“I think we're supposed to sit in that box,” she said. “Let's go see.”

Ryan and I followed her and we climbed the bleachers until we reached a skybox that was roped off.
RESERVED FOR EIGHTH-GRADE JUNIOR ROYAL COURT NOMINEES,
read a sign.

“That's us!” Paige said. “Omigod, I can't believe we're sitting
here.
”

Ryan unclipped the rope, letting us go into the stands first. I flashed back to when he'd first
really
smiled at
Paige—when he'd played a bodyguard at her
Teen Cuisine
party and had undone the velvet rope to let us into the room. I couldn't help but be happy when I watched Paige with Ryan. She was animated and excited—not at all nervous and awkward like she'd been when they'd first started getting to know each other.

We were the first ones in the stands. I picked the last seat in the back of the second row. Paige sat beside me, Ryan went next to her so at least I knew that no one could sit by me or behind me. I was glad we'd gotten here a little early.

I started eating my fries and watched Ryan dip a fry in ketchup and offer it to Paige. She took it and did the same for him. I felt a twinge of loneliness. I missed Eric's friendship—the way he'd been there for me and how good he'd made me feel. Sometimes, I missed his support. But then I looked at Paige and Ryan—how it wasn't just a friendship. They
like
-liked each other. I wanted that. With Jacob.

But it doesn't matte
r, I reminded myself. I forced myself to eat another fry.
Drama-free life means no guys for a while.

Heather walked into the booth and sat in front of me. “Hey,” she said, turning around. My eyes landed on her cheek. She had a tiny football painted there.

“Omigod,” I said, covering a laugh. “What did you do?”

“Julia and Alison made me.” Heather rolled her eyes. “I totally didn't want to, but they forced me.”

I liked making her squirm for once. “Julia and Alison,” I said slowly, “made
you
do something?”

“Silver, I'm going to push you out of the skybox if you don't shut up,” Heather said, smiling sweetly.

“Okay, okay.” I held up my hands.

Troy and Ben, two of the other guy nominees, walked past us and took seats at the end of the row. They turned around and said hi to Paige, Ryan, and me. I said hi back, but let Paige and Ryan carry the chatter about the football game. I didn't even know what team we were playing.

I ate my corn dog and watched as the stands started to fill. I looked up when someone walked past me and headed for an empty seat by Troy.

Eric. He had a Canterwood Crest baseball hat on and it shielded his eyes. He greeted Troy and Ben with a fist bump. I gripped the stick of my corn dog, almost paralyzed with wondering if he was going to turn around.

He shifted his head back and saw Ryan, Paige, and then me. “Hey,” he said. His voice was calm and his face showed nothing—he seemed completely cool sitting in the skybox with his ex-girlfriend. Paige and Ryan nodded
back at him; I looked away and put my plate under my seat. I wasn't hungry anymore.

Nicole, bubbly as always, walked inside and sat beside Eric.

“Can you
believe
we're at Homecoming?!” Nicole said.

“I know!” Paige said.

“And we're sitting in the skybox!” Alison said.

Heather turned around and fake-choked herself. That made me smile.

“That's
exactly
how I feel,” I said so only Heather could hear. I stuck out my tongue and rolled my eyes. We both laughed and I closed my mouth when I saw Callie walking up the stairs to our seating.

Callie looked at me, then glanced at Heather. Like Eric, her face was a mask. Her brown eyes gave away nothing and she didn't even blink at seeing us laugh together. She plopped into the seat in front of me and stared out at the football field. It
had
to be as uncomfortable for her as it was for me. She was sitting next to Heather and in front of me. Heather turned back around and both girls sat as far away from each other as they could in their chairs.

The talking in the skybox grew quieter. Then everyone fell silent when
he
reached the rope. I dropped my eyes to my lap. Jacob entered the back row of the skybox and
walked past me and everyone else to take the last seat at the end of the aisle.

I'd been delusional to think I'd be able to enjoy this for even a second. Even in the open space, I felt like I couldn't breathe with Jacob sitting seats away from me and Callie in front of me.

“Good evening, everyone.”

Headmistress Drake stepped into the skybox and smiled at all of us.

I tried to smile back, but couldn't.

“I'm glad to see all of you here and representing our school,” Headmistress Drake said. She'd pinned a CCA pin to her ivory button-up blouse.

“I hope you enjoy your seats from the skybox. Congratulations on your nominations, and please enjoy the game.”

She smiled at us before walking out of our seating and heading toward the spaces reserved for faculty.

I felt trapped in the skybox, so I forced myself to focus on something else. The Canterwood Crest football team lined up on the side of the field. The giant overhead lights illuminated the players and the coach. The team jogged in place and waited as a paper Canterwood Crest banner was held in front of them.

I glanced away from the field and looked down the
aisle to Jacob. I couldn't see him around everyone else.

You don't need to see Jacob,
I told myself.
Watch the game.

The PA system crackled on and the crowd became silent.

“Are you ready?” the announcer asked, his voice booming over the field. I looked up and could see a guy in a tiny announcer's box overlooking the field. He had on giant headphones and his face was close to a microphone.

Everyone screamed and clapped.

“That wasn't loud enough,” the announcer said. “I'm asking you again. Are. You. Ready?”

“Yeah!” The crowd screamed in unison. People whistled and clapped. I looked to the other side of the field and saw green and gold flags and pom-poms waving. In a much smaller section, visiting students from nearby Pershing Prep raised their red and black flags in support of their team. But they were on Canterwood turf and we outnumbered them. Big time.

On the side of the field, our players were getting ready. They flexed their arms, straightened their helmets and bumped fists with each other. The Canterwood cheerleaders assembled at our end of the field and started chanting.

“Go, Canterwood, go! Go, Canterwood, go!” they screamed.

Heather and I glanced at each other and shook our heads.

At the opposite end, Pershing Prep's cheerleaders chanted for their school.

“Pershing Prep panthers!” the girls screamed.

The Pershing Prep cheerleaders were soon drowned out by the home crowd.

Two Canterwood cheerleaders unrolled a giant Canterwood Crest Academy paper banner and held it ready for our players to rush through it. The mascots—a panther and our knight—entered the field and started rousing the crowd. Everyone got to their feet.

“Please welcome the Canterwood Crest Academy kniiiights!” the announcer said.

“Yeah! Woo!” Paige screamed, clapping her hands.

Our players ran forward and broke through the banner. They jogged away from the entrance so the Panthers' cheerleaders could assemble their school's banner. The Panthers ran through their banner and we all sat back in our seats. I forced myself to keep my eyes on the players—I needed something to look at instead of who was sitting with me in the skybox.

21

GAME OVER

IT TOOK EIGHT HOURS JUST TO GET TO halftime. Okay, okay, so that wasn't totally true, but it felt like that long. When the players left the field and Canterwood's cheerleaders back flipped and cartwheeled onto the grass, Heather turned around.

“I need a soda,” she said.

“Me too,” I said quickly.

I looked over at Paige to tell her I'd be back, but she was cheering for the show. She probably wouldn't even notice that I was gone.

I hurried past Callie and followed Heather down the steps and to a concession stand on our side of the field.

We got in line and Heather turned to me. “Don't do that. You didn't do anything to break up Callie and Jacob.
He made a move on you—anyone with a brain would know that.”

I shot her a look. “Well, no one but Paige
does
know, so shut up. I don't want Callie to find out. It would hurt her too much.”

Heather stared at me and folded her arms.

“What?” I asked.

“You're not protecting Callie anymore.”

“Yes, I am! Why else would I let this go on and not be able to be her friend?”

We moved closer to the stand and Heather sighed. “Silver, don't act like I'm dumb. You don't want Jacob to look bad. It's obvious.”

I opened my mouth, trying to think of what to say. She was right, like she always was, but I didn't want to tell her that. Heather's phone rang.

She pulled it out of her pocket, frowning when she looked at the caller ID.

“Hi,” she said.

Her voice was unusually high. She paused and covered her other ear with her hand.

“The noise?” Heather's face turned pink. “Oh, I'm walking by a football game on my way to the stable. I had my afternoon lesson, but I'm going back to ride.”

Her dad—I knew it. He never let up on her about riding. He was always after her about practicing more even though she spent more time at the stable than anyone. Even Mr. Conner had finally told Mr. Fox that his constant pressure on Heather wasn't helping, but he didn't let up. I'd walked in on Mr. Fox questioning a nearly teary Heather one day in the tack room and I'd stepped in and made it sound as if she did nothing but practice, which wasn't true anymore. She spent a
lot
of time at the stable, but she was also working on balancing that with other things.

“Yes, Dad,” Heather said into the phone. “Mr. Conner said my ride during the lesson was perfect. I'm going back now to work with Aristocrat over a few jumps. I'm getting up early before class to ride, too. Like always.”

Like as of weeks ago,
I thought. Our afternoon lessons were so intense, there was no reason for us to get up before classes and ride. And Heather wasn't. But I stood quietly and looked away so that she didn't think I was listening to every word.

“I will, Dad,” Heather said. “I'll call you after my lesson. Bye.”

She snapped the phone shut with such force, I was surprised it didn't break. She rubbed her nose with her hand and took a long breath.

“You okay?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Whatever, totally. You know how my dad is about riding. If I told him I was at a football game, he'd freak.”

“But you didn't have a choice. We
had
to come.”

Heather laughed. “You try that on my dad. He'd call the headmistress to find out if it was true, which would be insanely embarrassing.”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said softly. “It would be. Sorry.”

“Forget about it.”

I watched Heather out of the corner of my eye as we moved through the line. Her dad had rattled her. She was trying to be cool and act as if it didn't matter, but it did. I could see how she'd changed the second she'd looked at the caller ID.

We ordered sodas and walked back to the stands without saying a word. I passed Callie and she looked away when I walked by. I sat down and clutched my cup of soda. I
had
to say something to her about the breakup. She was hurting and I couldn't just sit here and watch her be in pain.

“Callie,” I said, leaning toward her shoulder. I wanted to get it out before I overanalyzed every word.