The second that I set foot in the building, Bree bombarded me; even more than usual, she seemed almost possessive of me. She was wearing my home jersey, tied tightly in the back so that the mesh uniform clung to her skin. Damn, I forgot that we had the pep rally today. That kind of made sense, however, since it was the Friday before our big game and all. I glanced down at my flannel button-up, unsure whether or not my teammates would make fun of me. Yes, I would have to call my mother to bring my away jersey up to the school.
"You're not wearing your jersey, Riles," Bree pouted, wrapping her arms around my neck. I returned her kiss, slightly disoriented. When our lips met, it was sweet but flat, like a Coke without the bubbles.
"It totally blew my mind," I confessed. "I had other things on my mind." Like my Spanish oral and... and my parents pending divorce. But Bree had interpreted my words all wrong.
"Oh, yes," she cooed. "Ever since that night, I've been a bit distracted, too." It took me a second to comprehend what she was saying, but then I remembered what she was referring to. It had all been a mistake, that evening in the back of my Jeep. I always went too far when I drank. I had downed the Budweiser's as if they were breath mints and Bree, she hadn't exactly been a 'designated driver'. I didn't really think about it; she looked so pretty, and it was so fast. I guess... it happened. Luckily, I had been sober for a week now, so I was in a good position for the game against the Montauk Marauders. It was vital that I be in peak shape, because I was our leading quarterback, and nobody else could make a run like I could.
Although, I doubted my skills would make up for me forgetting the pep rally; Yes, my teammates would most certainly make fun of me. They never took it too far, however. I was their idol, their captain.
Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of something that wasn't as tedious as my over-bearing girlfriend. It was a beautiful mane of red hair, shimmering like the flames of a fire. She was so pale, so... perfect. It almost hurt to look at her, but she was looking right at me. My left leg gave out, making me grab onto the door frame of a classroom. Bree, who had been leaning on me, collapsed onto an automatic water fountain. Water squirted up into her face, and I had to stifle a laugh.
"God, Riley!" Bree shrieked, straightening herself up and shaking out her shoulder-length brown hair. "What the hell did you do that for?" I shook my head like a dog drying himself off.
"I got... distracted," I explained. The word 'distracted' had the same effect on her as it had a minute ago. She was obviously under the impression that I spent all of my time thinking about that night. Now that she thought that I was fantasizing about her, all was forgiven. So shallow, yet so effective. Did she really think I was so infatuated with her, that I didn't have my own life? It annoyed me to no end how her problems always seemed to come first.
"Riles, take my jersey," Bree offered, pulling away from my half-hearted embrace and sliding out of the overlarge jersey. I froze, unsure what she was doing. Yes, Bree had always been a bit promiscuous, but stripping in school? Oh- she was wearing a tank top. Still, the tank top was not the thickest material...
"Nah, I'll call my mom," I replied, kissing her forehead as she pressed her torso to mine. "You're the cheerleading captain; jersey-wearing is your calling." Bree winked, sliding the jersey over my head.
"But taking care of my boyfriend is my job," she joked, kissing me lightly. I took her by the waist and gently pushed her away. I wasn't in the mood for her adoration; when she laid it on this thick, it became a bit tedious.
"Unfortunately, so is going to your 1st period class," I pointed out. Bree stuck out her lower lip, widening her already large eyes.
"It's just not fair that you get a free period while I have trig," she argued. I shrugged.
"Next year you'll be a senior," I reminded her. "You'll have plenty of free time then." Bree sighed dramatically.
"It won't be any fun," she muttered bitterly. "You'll be some football star at college, and I'll just be a high schooler. How should I know if you go and get some blonde Dallas Cowboy cheerleader?" She waited impatiently for my answer, but all that I could do was laugh. She didn't seem to find that amusing though. I think it actually annoyed her more. I hated these games; there were no right answers to her questions. It was almost as bad as, "Am I fat?"
"You know that you're the only cheerleader for me," I recited for the millionth time. Bree seemed pleased as she turned on her heels and blew me a kiss, heading towards the Math wing. I waved, my mind elsewhere. As soon as she disappeared around the corner, I spun around, searching for the girl that I had seen before. Ha. She was talking to Lucas, the second-line defense man. The pimp. The player. Though Luke's many endeavors normally amused me, this one angered me. This girl was much too beautiful to be tricked, laid and used. For some odd reason, I wanted to protect the fire-haired beauty. I didn't want her anywhere near my friend. Judging by the look in Luke's eyes, I could tell that this was his motive. Luke's motives always ended up with short-skirted girls taking nine-month 'vacations'.
"Bro!" I called, waving to my friend from across the hallway. Luke froze, clearly annoyed with me. I smirked, crossing the hallway in three strides. As soon as I became face-to-face with the strange redhead, I stopped breathing. She was even more breathtaking up close, with her wide green eyes and her flawless ivory skin. She giggled at my apparent surprise which only made it harder to think clearly. Her laugh was like wind chimes, and suddenly I felt like a snake being controlled by a snake-charmer.
"Hello," I muttered, trying to feign nonchalance. "Are you new here?" Luke cast me a dark look. It was almost too quiet to hear, but I was pretty sure that he muttered something along the lines of, "Let a player play." The redhead did not seem to hear him, however, so I decided that I had imagined it. Let a player play, indeed.
"Yes, I'm from Easton," the girl replied, her voice almost as enticing as her laugh. "My name's Victoria. And you are?" Luke cut in, clearly frustrated with me.
"I just told you," he snapped. "That's Riley. Riley- like a girl, Riley. I have a cousin named Riley. She's a girl, though." I smirked, refusing to let down my guard.
"That's nice, Lukey," I murmured, holding my chin high. "Are you cutting class? Don't you have remedial English or something like that? Special Ed...?" Luke jutted his elbow into my ribcage, but I stifled a grunt. As if cued, a woman that I recognized from the Language department swooped in and muttered something to Luke in a harsh tone. I smirked as the redhead looked across the hallway. Luke cast me a resentful look at the hook-nosed woman led him away. Time to pounce. Damn, did I really just think that? You have a girlfriend, Riley, I reminded myself, Another girl on your mind and it'll affect your game. A girlfriend who idolizes you; behave for God's sake.
"Poor guy," I muttered, shaking my head as Luke disappeared into the counselor's office. I could afford some sympathy now that the competition was gone. Crap. There you go again, Riley. There is no competition. Repeat: YOU. HAVE. A. GIRLFRIEND. "I have a girlfriend." I mumbled under my breath.
"Excuse me?" Victoria demanded, under the intention that I had said something. Shit, that sounds like I thought she was hitting on me! My eyes shot up, falling on her beautiful pools of emerald.
"Nothing," I replied, shaking my head stupidly. "I have a game. Football." Damn. Why had I told her that? Now I sounded like I wanted to impress her. Which I certainly did not. No. No romantic motives here, just a guy showing a new classmate some hospitality. Victoria glanced down at my jersey, furrowing her brow as if she thought that I was crazy. I was acting like it though. I couldn't blame her for thinking it.
"Yeah, I sort of assumed that," she muttered. "The jersey and all..." I followed her eyes to a fluorescent flyer advertising the pep rally.
"So what's your name?" I asked, desperate to reclaim my dignity. The redhead laughed at something that I couldn't see.
"Victoria," she replied, her green eyes twinkling. Okay, she's obviously trying to start over; don't mess it up this time. Totally ignoring my own advice, I jumped as she tossed her red curls over her shoulder. A stupid quote crossed my mind. "Once in his life, every man is entitled to fall in love with a gorgeous redhead."
"I'm Riley," I said, though I regretted it at once. Not that kind of start over dumbass!
"Yes, I know," Victoria giggled, jerking her head towards the direction that Luke had gone. Damn defenseman.
"So..." I stammered, "Do you need directions? To your next class or anything?" Victoria considered this, but then seemed to decide on something.
"First period is my free period, actually," she replied. Some guys have all the luck.