Straight To You

thirty-five

"Well, for starters"—Lana pauses to shoot me a pointed glance, gaze conflicted—"he hasn't even asked me out yet, so . . ." she trails off as she shrugs, though I notice the smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It takes a moment for the full weight of her words to hit me, though when they do I can hardly contain myself.

I stop walking as I turn to my best friend, eyes wide as I cry, "I knew you liked him!"

"Keep it down, would you?" Lana hisses, gaze skirting around as if trying to make sure nobody is eavesdropping on our conversation. "I don't want him to know that. I don't want to make anything easy for him."

"Okay." I loop my arm through Lana's as we trudge through the open gate, stepping foot onto the football field. "I promise not to tell Kyler you like him, even though I'm sure you're sending him really mixed signals and probably confusing him, which is why he hasn't asked you out yet."

Lana's blue eyes hold a mischievous gleam as she admits, "We're having fun together either way."

My eyebrows furrow at Lana's statement, searching for a hidden meaning. My eyes widen all over again when I come to a conclusion after deciphering her words, turning to Lana in shocked disgust as I whisper-hiss, "You two are sleeping together?"

"I didn't say that," Lana counters with a wink, smirking as she basically confirms my suspicions. I shake my head as a smile dawns my features, shoving Lana's shoulder as I find myself thinking it will be hard to look Kyler in the eyes the next time I see him.

I spot the team huddled around my dad by the corner of the field, which is where Lana and I are headed. Unfortunately, to get there Lana and I have to pass the cheerleaders. Most of the girls on the cheer team are actually really nice, and I've even made friends with a few. I wave at two of the girls, Ariana and Madison, as I pass, both of whom I have a few classes with. I don't notice Lacey, so I pray that my luck will hold up and I'll be able to reach the other side of the field without seeing her.

Unfortunately, I've never had good luck.

Just as I'm thinking Lana and I made it out of the danger zone safely and somehow managed to avoid the wicked witch, Lacey appears in front of us. She comes from nowhere, and her sudden presence startles me so badly a slight cry escapes me. My visible discomfort only makes the confrontation that much more embarrassing, and I tighten my grip around Lana to remind myself I'm not alone.

"Be careful," Lana whispers to me through gritted teeth, standing unconventionally still. "She's like an animal. She can sense fear."

"Oh shut up, Bozo," Lacey snaps back at Lana's dig, rolling her eyes in annoyance. I'm surprised when Lana doesn't cower or back down under the heat of Lacey's stare. It's no secret that Lana has always been the non-confrontational type, shying away when trouble starts to brew. In this moment, she seems uncharacteristically brave, straightening her stance as she stares defiantly back at the blonde spawn of Satan before us, seemingly unable to care less about what Lacey has to say.

"Hi, Lacey." I try to keep my voice steady, because I don't want Lacey to be able to tell that she gets to me in ways nobody else can. Even after all this time, she's still able to make me feel pale in comparison to herself. "Can we help you?"

"Oh, I was just stopping to say hi," Lacey mumbles casually, offering a thin smile. She juts a hip as she stands before me and Lana, her pom-poms resting at her sides. The way she's glaring at me suggests she sought me and Lana out for more than a brief hello, but I can't tell what she's trying to get at.

"Oh my God, are you wearing Jack's jacket, Morgan?" Lacey questions, trying to feign innocence as she widens her blue eyes and tilts her head to the side, awaiting my answer. Every time her eyes meet mine, I can't help feeling inadequate. While Lacey's blond hair cascades down her shoulders in flattering pin-straight strands, my own dirty blond hair tumbles down my shoulders in messy waves. I'm dressed in Jack's huge jacket, paired with an old t-shirt and distressed jeans, whilst Lacey is every guys' dream in her curve-hugging cheer uniform. She's better than me in every sense of the word, and I can feel my confidence deflating at the thought.