Noah Centineo Imagines

*Insecurities

Warning: SMUT, language, body image

Most high schoolers can't wait for summer. Me? I dreaded it.

Summer consisted of campouts, lake trips, and pool parties. Speaking of pool parties, I was currently procrastinating getting ready for the biggest one. It was Abigail Hanson's Summer Kickoff party. She had it every year to "start the summer off right" as she so humbly puts it every time she invites someone.

I looked in the mirror at the two-piece swimsuit I was wearing. It was kind of like a bikini, but has a little more fabric, covering more skin. When I saw the way I looked, I hated it.

I know. How cliché. A girl not liking what she saw when she looked in the mirror. But when you're constantly around athletic guys and model ready girls, you tend to see every little imperfection.

Although I was on the cheerleading team, I wasn't the skinniest girl. I mainly made the team because I was good at tumbling. The only reason I really fit in with the other cheerleaders is because of my relationship with the football team's kicker, Noah Centineo.

Noah and I have been friends since we were little. I was in gymnastics and he was in football. Once we got to middle school, he made the football team and convinced me to try out for the cheerleading squad so I could go to all his games.

I didn't have this problem in middle school. I felt comfortable on the team. It wasn't until I made the team in high school that I started to feel self-conscious around the girls.

Noah tried to tell me it was all in my head, but I saw the way they looked at me. I was just the team's tumbler. I was the only one on the team that could do more than a back handspring or a simple flip.

I was brought out of my thoughts when I heard my phone ringing. "Hello?"

"Hey, babe." Noah greeted. It's normal for him to call me that. It was just something we called each other. There was never anything behind it.

At least to him. Every time he called me babe it made my heart beat faster. I loved it when he called me babe or any of the other nicknames he has for me.

"Y/N? Hello? You there?"

"Yeah, sorry." I laughed awkwardly. "Just zoned out. What's up?"

"I asked if you were going to Abigail's party?"

"I guess," I sighed. "I don't really have a choice. She's on the team and it's kind of expected that we all go."

"Y/N," he sighed, cutting me off. "You do have a choice. I keep trying to tell you. Just because the other cheerleaders are going somewhere, doesn't mean you have to go too."

"Yeah, well," I shrugged even though he couldn't see me. "At least you'll be there with me. Right?"

"Yep," he said, popping the "p". "I was calling to make sure you were coming so I wasn't left alone with my team."

"You love the guys."

"Yeah," he sighed. "It's just, sometimes they go too far with their jokes. Especially at this party. They look at all the cheerleaders and rate them."

"Really?" I asked, my voice getting caught in my throat. My eyes instantly shifted back to my reflection.

"Don't worry, Y/N." He said, gently. "I have threatened them so many times the second they say your name, they know not to rate you. The first and only time a guy did that, I kicked his ass. I got your back."

"Thanks, Noah."

That should've made me feel better, but it didn't. The guys may not say things about me or rate me in front of Noah, but they most likely still do when he isn't around.