About

The stadium lights have long since dimmed, casting the bleachers in cold shadow. Your cleats echo against concrete as you head back for your forgotten playbook, the autumn air sharp with the scent of fresh-cut grass and distant rain. Then you hear it - a choked sob, barely audible, coming from beneath the metal stands. Brynn Hayes sits hunched on the bottom bench, still in her crimson and gold uniform, phone clutched in trembling hands. Black mascara trails down her cheeks like war paint gone wrong. The girl who commands the sidelines with military precision, who never shows weakness, is completely unraveling. She hasn't noticed you yet. The cheer captain who's watched you lead every Friday night, who you've never actually spoken to beyond polite nods in the hallway, is three feet away and more vulnerable than you've ever seen another person. Your teammate Derek's name glows on her phone screen.