chapter 7

Today is the day.

Friday.

A day I have been worrying about since I knew what would come.

The front of the school is littered with people. Black, red, and white paint covers their faces as the school spirit shows through their clothing.

I walk on the straight sidewalk to the front doors of the school, hiking my bag further on my shoulder.

A hand clamps on my forearm, turning me to face them.

Blake stands, his tall figure sporting his white football jersey over a red sweatshirt. The number 19 displayed on the fabric.

I look into his eyes as he smiles down at me. It fades once he takes in my appearance. His face holding a confused expression.

"Why didn't you dress out?" He looks me up and down, his eyes burning my skin.

"Where's the school spirit?"

"I don't own anything like that." I feel embarrassed, of course.

For as long as I lived here, I still don't own any clothing for these types of events. Nobody noticed me, so I never thought it was really necessary.

Until now.

"Not even a simple T-shirt?" He asks as if this is the most surprising thing anyone has ever told him.

"No." I look down, my cheeks burning in embarrassment as he looks at me.

"Here. Go put this on and I'll take you to get your face painted." He hands me a hoodie that was in his bag.

The light material felt warm and soft in my hands. The white color contrasting with the red and black lettering. His name and number printed on the back and the team and school name on the front.

I look back up at him, his eyes staring into mine.

"Come on." He smiles, leading me into the school and towards a classroom.

"This is my number, you know?" I smile down at the hoodie, my hand tracing the number.

"Seriously?" He keeps his long strides.

"Yeah, it's my favorite number." I try to keep up with him.

"Well, it's my favorite now." I look up at him only to see that he's smirking down at me.

He finds the room, filled with cheerleaders and other students, paint and confetti everywhere. Everyone's voices carrying through the open door.

Blake puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me to a table full of paint. His hoodie still in my hand as I look around the room.

"I'll get someone to paint your face." He looks around before looking back at me and to my hand.

"Put it on, I promise it's warm." He smiles before walking off.

I smile to myself, pulling the hoodie over my head and on my body. My arms slipping through the sleeves, his scent engulfing my senses. And he was right...it was warm.

"Hey!" A cheerleader chirps at me, paint and ribbons in her hands.

"Hi."

"Blake asked me to help you with the face paint?" She smiles at me.

nod my head and she takes a seat next to me. I take off my glasses. Opening the paint bottles and dipping the paint brush in, she starts making quick and soft motions as she dabs the paint on my face.

"So, you and Blake, huh?" She smirks.

"What do you mean?"

"Are y'all a thing?" She all but squeals.

"No, we're not." I laugh, smiling.

"But, you want to?" It sounds more like a statement than an actual question.

"I-I...don't.." I blush.

"It's okay, I won't tell anyone. Promise." She smiles.

"Thank you." I smile back at her.

She's nice.

A few minutes pass until she's done, a triumphant smile on her face as she inspects her work.

"There, all done!" She claps her hands as she hands me a handheld mirror.

I put back on my glasses, careful not to smudge her work.

I look at my reflection and stare in awe at the neatly painted dots that form a line under my left eye and over my right eyebrow. Three alternating colors. Black, red and white.

"I love it. Thank you." I shyly say to her. She smiles and leaves me staring into the mirror.

"You look good." Blake's voice whispers in my ear. I jump a little in surprise, his laugh filling the empty space around us.

"Uhh...thanks." I put down the mirror, grab my bags and awkwardly head out of the classroom.

"Where are you going." Blake jogs after me.

"To class."

"We still have..." He looks at his phone. "Ten minutes left."

"Then, I'll just go back outside until the bell rings." I shrug.

"I'm going with you."

"Don't you have to stay and help them?"

"No, the only reason I went in there was to help you get in the spirit." He sends me a cheesy smile, bumping my hip with his.

I just laugh, a small weight that I didn't even know I had being lifted off my shoulders.

"Thank you."

"Anytime." He smiles.

He opens the front doors to the school, holding it open for me as we both step back into the cold air. Everyone looks at us as we stand on the front steps.

A few whispers and weird looks are directed towards us. I look around, confused as to what they're talking about. Until I figure it out.

Blake's jacket. Of course that's what it is. His name is on the back in huge bold letters. And to make matters worse, his hand was resting on my hip as he looks down at me, a soft smile on his face.

How'd that even happen?

I loose sight of everyone else as I just focus on his eyes. The color glowing against the dull grey skies. I get caught in his gaze, the heat radiating off of his body warming me to the point where I felt like melting.

Then the bell rings.

He drops his hand, stepping away from me as he clears his throat. His eyes quickly averting from mine and never meeting them again.

"I'll see you at the pep rally." He quickly states before walking off.

"Okay." I whisper more to myself.

What was that?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"I hate these things." Kyla mumbles beside me.

We all stand on the bleachers in the big main gym. Everyone talking or sitting and watching the cheerleaders warm up.

"I love pep rally's!" Blair comments from my other side.

Complete opposites.

I find myself looking around the gym. I don't know what I'm looking for until my eyes land on him. And as if on cue, he finds me, looking at me from where he's standing. I smile, he returns a toothy grin.

We both stand just staring at each other with smiles on our faces. Then, one of the cheerleaders walk up to him, placing their hands on his chest. Leaning closer to him, she whispers something in his ear. She moves closer to his face and kisses his cheek, looking back at me with a sinister grin.

The girl who painted my face. That's her!

That conniving, stupid little bi-

"Alright everybody! MAKE SOME NOISE!!" A coach yells from a microphone.

Everyone goes crazy. I avert my eyes from Blake and that lier, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to focus on the announcer.

But, I can't. His words seem to slur right through my ears. I feel a painful pang in my chest, my smile long gone.

Why do I feel like this? We aren't dating, I told her that. And she goes and tries to take him, given one fact that we aren't together.

But, it shouldn't matter to me.

He's not mine.

So...why should I care?