I needed to dial this back. “I’m sorry. I was just hoping you’d be rooting for me to have a good game.”
Her pause was shorter this time, but it was way worse. “You know what? I’m upset, Jay, and I’ve got a long drive home. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Wait, I’m sorry—” There was only silence. I pulled the phone away and looked at the screen.
She’d hung up on me.
-36-
KAYLA
Chuck tried to get me to join him at a band house party, but I said I was too tired from the drive. I wanted to talk to him, but not if I had to yell over loud music and drunk people who couldn’t control their own volume. It’d been one hell of a day. I drove to my parents’ house and then my dad dropped me off at my apartment, since my car wouldn’t be ready for a week.
I got a response to my text from my coach.
Samantha: See me first thing tomorrow. Report time is 7 a.m.
That sounded ominous. Was I supposed to show up in my uniform just so I could be extra humiliated when the coaching staff threw me off the bus?
I tossed my ruined t-shirt in the trash, changed into my pajamas, and climbed into bed, ignoring the dings of new text messages when I saw they were from Jay. I was seriously annoyed with him. I’d sacrificed my sport so he could keep doing his. What else did I have to do to prove myself to him? Asking me to cheer for Michigan was too much.
I tossed and turned most of the night, frustrated with everything. When my alarm went off at 5:30 a.m., I groaned and trudged to the shower like a death march. I ran through ideas of what to say to my coaches, and decided to go with the truth. Whatever punishment or judgement they gave me would be better than lying.
Chuck was up and in his marching band uniform as I finished getting ready. He gave me his “think positive” pep talk, but it fell flat.
There was a long string of buses parked at the fieldhouse when I showed up thirty minutes early, and there were several police cruisers at the front and back of the line, ready to give the team and cheerleader buses an escort to the Big House. Media and fans were already there, corded off to the side.
I made my way to the main entrance, which had two security officers waiting. They glanced at my gray cheerleader warmups and equipment bag, and waved me in, although one of them glared at me like I was interrupting his peaceful morning.
I ducked through the door and found Samantha in the lobby, drinking coffee and chatting with the football staff. My head coach was a beautiful woman in her forties, or maybe older. It was impossible to tell because she had youthful eyes and endless enthusiasm.
“Kayla.” She nearly dropped her cup of Starbucks when she saw me. Oh, crap. Was I not supposed to be in uniform? She hurried to me, pulling me over to a corner. “How are you doing?”
She sounded genuinely concerned, and my heart sank further. She knew I wouldn’t miss the parade unless it was serious, and she must have assumed something terrible had happened.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m so sorry about last night.”
“That was interesting. I didn’t even think Coach Vaughn knew my name.”
“What?” Why was she talking about Ohio State’s head coach?
“He found me right before the parade and said I needed to excuse you from the performance. That you and your dad were handling a football emergency.”
My jaw dropped. My dad must have called Coach Vaughn and asked for a favor. I was beyond grateful, but how much had my dad revealed? Oh, God. Was that why the security guard was giving me the stink eye?
“Yeah,” I said slowly. It wasn’t a lie, I was handling a football emergency. “Did he give specifics?”
“No, but Coach has a lot going on right now, so for him to come and ask for this, I’m not going to say no. What were you doing?” Her gaze flicked over my head, and she frowned at whatever she saw. “You know what? Explain later. I want to talk to you about safety today. The article’s going to draw a lot of unwanted attention, so the staff and I will be keeping an extra close eye. If you start to feel uncomfortable at all, you let me or one of—”
“What article?”
Samantha’s grip tightened on her cup. “You haven’t seen it? No one told you about it yet?”
“I turned my phone off last night.” Which I was now regretting. “My boyfriend and I had a disagreement.”
“The boyfriend who plays for Michigan?”
I nearly fell over. She knew? “How’d you—”
“So, it’s true.” She gave me a sad smile. “The school’s paper published a special gameday edition this morning, and you’re in it. An Ohio State cheerleader dating a Michigan football player, during the game of the century. Of all my cheerleaders, you were the last one I’d suspect.”