My hands were at my face. I was so tense standing beside Mrs. Taylor, a 7 on one cheek and a 33 on the other.

The State game was a rollercoaster from start to finish and it wasn't getting any better as it moved toward a conclusion. We were on the verge of winning the whole game, but we still had half the field to go to the end zone and Saracen was the target for the other team.

Both teams lined up again. Mrs. Taylor grabbed one of my hands and squeezed. The play went into action and the center line collided.

Matt threw to Tim who passed to Smash. I yelled at Smash to keep going, to take it all the way. Smash made the touchdown and I screamed. I was a complete fool with our win. So much so that I leaped onto Tim's back when we were able to see the team. Thankfully all the boys were either in their uniforms or dressed in their regular clothes.

"You did it! You fuckin' won!" I shouted, hanging from his shoulders. I openly kissed his cheek in the excitement. I would reprimand myself later on for it.

Tim held my arms and laughed at my enthusiasm. Some of his teammates looked at me like I was insane while others nudged each other and whispered. I would have cared more if the Panthers lost.

I stood on my own two feet and beamed at Tim. "Can you believe it?"

"I'm still on cloud nine," Tim said. He suddenly licked his thumb and started rubbing off the 7 on my face.

I grabbed his hand and pulled his face away. "Hey! Don't mess with the face, Riggins. I can cheer on you and Matt."

He tried with his other hand. "I'm afraid to tell you that you're only allowed one number on your face."

A laugh wiggled its way out of my throat. "And you think it's gonna be yours?"

"Damn right it is." He broke free of my grip and got more of the seven off of my face.

"Hey, Riggins."

Tim stopped trying to clean off my face to look over and Jason Street. The playful smile he had shifted to something softer.

"Great job out there."

"Couldn't have done it without ya, Street."

Jason smiled at me. "You with this jerk, Cat?"

I groaned, but my lips stayed upturned. "It'd be really nice if people would quit thinkin' that. No, I'm not 'cause this jerk is only trouble."

Tim came after Matt's number again, making Jason laugh. "Well, keep him runnin' straight, all right?"

"I'll do my best, Jason."

"I'm right here, guys," Tim complained, successfully trapping my head under his arm to get the rest of Saracen's number off. He released me, proud to only see his jersey number left. "Everything is right in the world."

Jason was still watching us. "You goin' to the after party, Cat?"

"I don't think so. I might get along with some of you guys, but I'm still the art geek to everyone else."

Tim chuckled. "You're still a geek to us, Barton." I smacked his stomach.

"You should come," Jason said. "If anyone gives you trouble, Tim will kick their ass for ya. Think of him as your personal bodyguard."

"Yeah, until he gets drunk."

"I'll still have your back."

I looked between the boys. "All right. I'll go just this once."

Tim grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder without warning. "Time for you to have some fun, Catherine Barton."

I honestly enjoyed myself at the start of the party. People were nice to me, though Tim hanging close by probably helped. I felt like I was worry free while I nursed a beer with a few of the football players. It all went downhill when I had to run to the bathroom.

Four girls were waiting for me when I opened the door. I recognized Tim's rally girl and smiled warmly. I had a bad feeling about them, but I remained pleasant. They didn't even speak to me, blocking my way when I tried to walk past.

I was pushed back into the bathroom, falling on the floor and nearly banging my head on the tub. All four of them pounced on me, calling me names, tugging at my hair and limbs to force me onto my knees. I struggled against them, but four on one wasn't a fair fight. I shouted out for help.

My head was forced over the toilet where they shoved my hair into it and flushed. I grunted against them pushing me down and the toilet trying to suck down my hair. Tears started falling down my face when I heard the sound of scissors. The toilet was flushed again and the scissors were brought to my hair. Sobs came from me as I watched chunks of my hair fall into the bowl, some getting flushed down. I screamed in frustration because I couldn't get free.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

All of their hands disappeared from my body and the scissors dropped to the floor. As much as I wanted to retaliate and kick their asses, I kept my head down and choked on a sob. I clenched my eyes shut to avoid looking at my hair floating in the toilet. I hated parties.

I didn't hear the girls leave or someone calling out to Tim. I flinched when a hand touched my back. I cried softly when Tim's voice cut through the ringing in my ears. I was so afraid to move, so afraid to see the mess on top of my head. I ducked away from the hand that tried to touch my hair.

Tim asked for a towel that he promptly placed over my head. He gently used it to bunch up my hair and dry it as best as he could.

I gathered the ends of the towel and used the bundled fabric to mute the sounds coming from my mouth. I couldn't pull myself together because every time I tried, the image of my cut hair filled my thoughts. I usually didn't worry over it, but it was so long. I was scared to see how short I'd have to cut it to fix the mess.

"Get her to her room, Riggins."

The sound of Coach Taylor's voice made me cry harder. I didn't realize he stopped by and having him see me in such a state was embarrassing.

"Come on, Barton." Tim carefully situated the towel to hide my hair and face from the partygoers. He helped me to my feet, pulling me against his side, and led me to my hotel room.

It was the quietest party I ever left from.

Staring at my hair after my shower caused tears to roll down my cheeks again. The strands in the front were still long and looked horrible in comparison to the choppy mess everywhere else. The shortest part barely went past the nape of my neck. Every cut was jagged and uneven. It wasn't my hair anymore.

Tim knocked on the door. "Are you okay?"

I slowly pulled the door open. Seeing his face full of genuine concern turned me into a blubbering mess again. "M-My hair..."

Tim pulled me to his chest and let me cry. He cradled the back of my head while his other hand rubbed my back. He didn't say a word, which was exactly what I needed.

It took several minutes to calm down. I stepped away from Tim, wiped my eyes, and pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head. I had a hard time meeting Tim's gaze.

"Did you drive here?" he asked. I nodded. "Tomorrow we're gonna go take care of your hair, okay? It'll be like nothing happened and you'll go back to school to show everyone that you're a badass."

"You wanna ride back with me?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm your bodyguard, right?"

I nodded and scratched the back of my head. I felt the prick of tears again. Tim muttered something about the four girls before he made me climb into my hotel bed.

He tugged the front of the hood with a smile. "Coach will make sure they won't be rally girls anymore."

"They'll still be at school."

"Then I'll walk you to class."

"You don't even show up to school on time."

"Then I'll get Saracen's help. We're gonna watch out for you."

I smiled sadly.

Someone knocked on the door, so Tim went over to check who it was. I sat up seeing Lyla Garrity.

"Are you okay?" She sat on the edge of my bed, her voice gentle.

My lower lip trembled, so I took a deep breath. "I-I'll be okay."

She didn't ask to see my hair. She didn't ask me to explain what happened. Instead, her eyes drifted over to my sketchbook lying on my suitcase. "Can I see what you've been working on?"

I nodded and crawled off the bed to grab the book. Tim followed out of curiosity, making me feel more self-conscious about it. Most people didn't get to see my sketches. I handed it to Lyla.

She looked at Tim. "It's okay if he looks, too?"

"Um, sure." I tugged the sleeves of my hoodie over my hands.

I didn't have to look to know what they were looking at. I had several animal sketches and a few still lifes. There were a lot of doodles mingled within each page. I looked down when Lyla turned the page to a finished sketch of Julie Taylor.

There were several mini drawings of my friends or people we knew. I had a sketch of Matt and Landry eating together, a large sketch of Tyra with practice doodles of her hair and eyes. I was particularly proud of my drawing of Coach Taylor from the photo I took at practice. A little image of Mrs. Taylor was in the corner.

A few pages had Lyla and Jason together, all showing off their cute relationship. Following them were sketches of Billy and Tim. I really liked the quick sketch I had of them working together on one of their trucks.

I turned a little pink when Lyla turned to the last page where a half-finished sketch of Tim was. It was one of those days the football team wore their jerseys to a pep rally and I really liked the way they all looked. Tim just happened to be the one person I chose to draw.

"These are really good, Catherine," Lyla said, setting the sketchbook next to me. "Are you thinking of going to an art college?"

I shrugged. "I haven't thought about it much."

"You should go," Tim said.

"There's not many here in Texas, so I don't know."

Lyla smiled. "You'll figure it out."

I nodded and looked between the two. I was happy to see Lyla and Tim on good terms again. I hated that what happened between them and Jason strained their friendship.

"Would you like me to stay with you?" Lyla asked.

I shook my head. "No. I'm goin' to be okay. Thanks though."

She smiled again and pulled me into a hug. My eyes went wide when I stared up at Tim. Lyla was too sweet.

Lyla left. leaving me and Tim alone again. He sat in the tiny hotel chair and leaned his head back.

"You can go back to your room or that party if you want, Tim. I'm all right. Even if they try to torture me again, the can't get in the room."

"You know, I was pretty scared when Smash told me something happened to you," he said. "And then I saw you hangin' over the toilet. I didn't know something was really wrong until you jumped away." Tim rubbed his face. "I'm sorry."

"Tim, you invited me. You didn't have the scissors in your hands. You got me out of there."

He lifted his head to look at me. "I've never wanted to hit a girl before... They were smilin' when I took you out of there. I don't want a rally girl who's gonna hurt my friends."

My eyes welled up. I tried blinking them away, but it didn't matter when Tim already saw. He got up and sat where Lyla was before, pulling me against him again. It took everything in me to keep my breath steady.

"Do you need me to stick around? I know you're sharin' with Julie but if you need me, I can stay."

I hesitated. I wanted him there as my friend. I also didn't want anyone to see him leave my room. His roommate would already be suspicious if he didn't come back. But I felt so much better with him there. I eventually nodded.

Tim casually climbed into my bed and made himself comfortable. He stared at me watching him with surprise. "I'm not gonna do anything."

I swallowed and played with my sleeves. I eventually bit the bullet and laid down next to him. I was completely out of my element. I felt cramped and far from him all at once.

Tim chuckled when I shifted for the hundredth time. "Come here," he said before wrapping me up in his arms to slide me closer. "Relax, Barton."

It was easier said than done. I sighed in defeat when I couldn't figure out where my limbs could go and not be awkward.

"You haven't done this before, have you?"

"I don't invite people over to my house for sleepovers. I also don't have regular interactions with the male variety and I sure as hell don't share beds with them," I said. "I'm a bit overwhelmed right now, Riggins."

He made a sound similar to a laugh while he shifted to lie on his back. Tim put one of my arms across his torso and made me lay my head on his shoulder.

I was very close to him. I kept my eyes away from his face.

"Better?"

I nodded a little. "Mmhmm."

"Now go to sleep. We've got a long drive in the mornin'."

Before getting too far out of the city, Tim dragged me into a salon. Once they had me in a chair, Tim explained the situation in a low voice. The sound of shock from the hairdresser embarrassed me further when I pulled my hood down.

"I'm gonna fix this right up for you, honey," she said. "You'll show those girls how beautiful and amazing you are when you get back home."

Tim put his hand on my head for a second before going back to the waiting area, leaving me with the lady and her magic scissors.

I learned her name was Stacey pretty quick. After the introduction, she asked me questions about myself to distract me from cutting the rest of my long locks off. I watched the hairdresser shift her eyes to the door when someone walked in.

"He's a sweet boy for takin' care of you."

I nodded. "He's a good friend."

"I think he's feelin' somethin' for ya." The hairdresser tugged on both ends of my hair to check if they were equal length.

"Probably, but he feels somethin' for a lot of girls."

"So he's one of those boys," Stacey said. "Guard your heart then."

"I'll be okay."

She turned my chair. "I still think he's sweet on you. The real kind of sweet."

I looked down at the hair sitting on the smock. Tim was becoming a common topic of choice and I wasn't okay with it. I was getting tired of people thinking we were an item because I started to ponder it. He liked and loved a lot of girls and I wasn't sure I could be one of them or if I really wanted to be.

A few more cuts later, Stacey smiled at me. "All fixed."

I finally looked in the mirror. I felt like crying. My hair was the shortest it had been since I was younger. The front hung down just at my shoulders, angling back to the shorter cuts the girls left me with. Thankfully, she cleaned up their sloppy cuts.

Embarrassment took over again when I shuffled to the front where Tim was reading a random magazine. I smiled a little when he did a double take.

"It looks great," he said as he stood. Tim gently tugged on a longer section in the front. "You ready to go?"

I nodded.

Tim left some money for a tip since Stacey refused to take payment because of my situation. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and lead me out to my car.

I fell asleep on the drive back, my head against the window. My hand was resting on the center console because Tim refused to let it go until we got home.

Yay for YA tropes! I usually try to avoid those, but high school girls are brutal. Yeah, it was probably unnecessry. For once, I wanted to let one of those tropes come to life since they are in high school at this point. Idk. What do you think? What are some tropes you like/love/hate?