“All right. Let’s do this.” I grinned at my friends. Then I followed the rest of the band out to the field, gripping tightly to my saxophone. My fingers were slick with sweat, my knuckles white. The lights from the football field beckoned us as we stomped over the asphalt, our feet thundering like an encroaching army.
We passed the parking lot and it was almost completely full. My stomach tightened.
I leaned toward Jasmine. “Hey, Jazzy, a lot of people go to the football games here, huh?”
“Of course they do. Our football team is like the best.” She winked. “That boy you met at the gym is a local celebrity.”
I nodded, a stone descending in my gut. Holden’s face filled my mind. Nothing about his demeanor the night we met screamed “football star.” He was cute and endearing, humble even. When we rounded the corner, the football field came into view. The artificial turf was bright and inviting, the lights illuminating it. People of all ages filled the bleachers, and the energy radiating from them was infectious. My heart picked up speed. Football games were nothing like this at my last school. Then again, I’m pretty sure we only won a handful of games.
My gaze flickered to the scoreboard, and I saw that the Gold Rush High Tigers were creaming the other team. My breath hitched in my throat when I spotted Holden across the field. His back was to me, but I read the name on his orange jersey. Holden threw the ball, and a guy near the end zone caught it, side swiped a couple of players from the other team and made a touchdown. Cheering erupted, and Holden and his teammates gave each other a round of fist bumps and high fives. I couldn’t stop staring at him, and I couldn’t stop picturing what he looked like under all that football gear. I’d had a front row seat to him in nothing but swim trunks. It was a sight I wouldn’t soon forgot, I’ll tell you that.
“Okay.” Jasmine tugged my arm. “We’re up.”
As the players exited the field, Gianna moved away from Jasmine and me to join the other flutists. Jasmine stayed by my side, holding her saxophone in her hand. I glanced up into the bleachers trying to locate my parents. I knew they were somewhere in the crowd; however, it would be impossible to find them in all those people. It was worse than a “Where’s Waldo” book. At least he had on the red stripes and big hat. I had no idea what my parents were wearing, and they both were dark haired, so that was no help either. But just knowing they were out there somewhere gave me a boost. They never missed any of my performances or competitions, the same way they never missed my older brother’s baseball games when he was in high school. Abandoning the idea of finding them, I faced forward. As we moved to the goal line to walk out onto the field, a fierce breeze picked up. A flash of orange blew past me. Shit. Was that my plume? I reached up. Sure enough, the feathers were not sticking out of my hat.
My face flamed as I stepped away from Jasmine and scurried toward the plume that was floating in the breeze, fluttering through the air like a butterfly. It landed on the ground, only to skitter a little further. I ran, keeping my gaze trained on it. My body slammed into something hard and warm. Dazed, I stepped back. Oh, no. I’d lost track of it.
“This yours?” A voice cut into my internal scolding.
My head bobbed up, and I sucked in a breath. “Um…yeah, thanks.” With a shaky hand, I reached out to grab the orange feathers dangling from Holden’s thick fingers.
“Chloe?” His eyes widened.
I nodded. “And you’re Holden, right?”
“Right,” he spoke slowly, methodically. Gone was the flirty, funny boy from the spa. Yeah, I should have known. His gaze slid over my shoulder. “You better get back out there. Wouldn’t want you to miss your…um…performance or whatever.” The lack of respect for the marching band was evident in his tone.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, swinging around. Then I walked quickly back toward the goal line, my shoulders slumped, my heart in my throat.
CHAPTER 5
Holden
When the orange feather flew by my head, I thought it was a bug or something. I flinched and swatted it away. But then I saw one of the marching band members racing after it. I knew I should have minded my own business, but the girl was so frantic and the marching band was going in the opposite direction. Some of the other guys on the team probably would’ve taken the opportunity to harass the girl. Their opinion of the marching band was pretty low. But I wasn’t like that. I mean, it’s not like I was going to hang out with anyone in the band, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to join it, but I wasn’t an ass. I wasn’t like Ryan, who got off on bullying others. I didn’t get any enjoyment out of seeing people suffer.