I was so busy setting up the debate team booth at the homecoming game that I didn't notice Wyatt come up behind me. I felt a hand on my waist and immediately jumped and spun around.
"Oh, it's you," I said, my defenses melting away as I locked eyes with Wyatt.
"Hey beautiful," he said, leaving his hand on my waist, "I'm worried you're going to be so busy selling T-shirts that you won't be able to watch the game."
My smile faltered for a moment. I was actually glad I'd have something to do. I enjoyed watching the football games, but sitting there for three hours seemed like a waste of time.
"You don't need me to watch the game in order to win," I teased.
"I know," he replied, winking at me. "But I want you to. It gives me more incentive to play well."
I laughed. "Okay, I'll be watching you."
He beamed and I almost got lost in his smile, but then I noticed that he wasn't in his uniform yet.
"Why aren't you with the team?" I asked. "The game starts in 20 minutes."
Wyatt shrugged. "Coach is giving a lecture. I'll get ready in a few minutes. They won't miss me."
I raised my eyebrows. I'd noticed Wyatt had a way of disregarding rules that was both exciting and unsettling.
He stepped closer to me. "Are you all ready for tomorrow night?"
"Yep. I'm looking forward to it." That was a huge understatement. I'd been dreaming about going to the homecoming dance with Wyatt in every spare moment I had, and even in some moments when I should have been concentrating on something else.
"Me too. I can't wait to spend the night with you in my arms." He took my hand and brushed it against his lips. I could only manage to smile in reply. He gave me a long look and then turned away and headed toward the field.
It took me a few seconds to remember what I was supposed to be doing. I shook my head to clear it and continued setting out T-shirts that said things like: Skilled in Conversational Combat and Rhetoric Is My Greatest Weapon. They weren't the most catchy phrases, but we were trying to appeal to the parents, and it seemed to be working. I sold 26 shirts before the game even started. The funds were really going to help the debate team out for when we had to travel across the state for tournaments.
The football game got under way and I really didn't have a lot of time to watch Wyatt because of how busy the booth was. I did see him make an impressive catch and then later he made a great block that led to a touchdown, but otherwise I was occupied selling T-shirts. Sales started to slow down by halftime, and I saw Miranda approaching the booth in her cheerleader uniform. I winced. Lately it seemed that things between us were getting more and more strained.
"I need to talk to you," she said.
"Now is really not a great time."
She disregarded my comment and stepped into the booth with me. "You have been acting like a big jerk lately."
"Excuse me?"
"First you steal homecoming princess from me-"
"Miranda," I interjected, "I had no control over that."
"Oh really? Why didn't you tell all the people who were planning to vote for you to vote for me instead?"
"I didn't know anyone was planning on voting for me!"
"Whatever. And then there's that," Miranda said, wrinkling her nose as she pointed to the back of the bleachers. I craned my neck and saw Frog sweeping up trash. His skin was still a light shade of green.
"Okay, what about Frog?"
"You've been so friendly to him! I know you made that announcement yesterday to help him get out of the cafeteria."
I shrugged. "Maybe I just remembered at that moment that I needed to remind everyone to come to the game." Miranda gave me a skeptical look and I sighed. "Fine. Yes, I did. But everyone was being so awful to him! It was terrible!"
Miranda rolled her eyes. "But it wasn't your job to save him!"
I threw up my hands in exasperation. "Then what is my job, Miranda?"
"To not associate with losers like him!"
I raised my chin. "I don't think he's a loser."
"Well, everyone else thinks he is. If you keep acting like this, you're going to lose your status."
I didn't respond. Instead, I turned away and straightened some T-shirts.
"Honestly, I don't know how you ever became homecoming princess," Miranda whined. "At least I get to be best friends with the homecoming princess, so I guess that's the next best thing. Always in your shadow."
I whipped around and stared at her. She had pushed me too far. "Then why don't you do something to get out of my shadow instead of always using me?" I snapped.
Miranda gasped and then narrowed her eyes at me. "Maybe I will," she hissed, then turned and stomped away.
Another person came to buy a T-shirt and it took all my resolve to appear cheerful. Miranda had really angered me. What did it matter if I was nice to Frog? He hadn't done anything to deserve the treatment he constantly got, and what was more, he was a very decent, funny, talented human being. I watched him as he dutifully swept up trash by the bleachers, wondering how it felt to be picked on day after day, wondering how he found the courage to keep coming back to school knowing that people were going to be awful to him. Something akin to admiration sparked in me as I watched him, and then my attention was drawn to some movement at the top of the bleachers. Huge pillars painted in our school colors were at each end of the bleachers, and a muscular man with scars on his face appeared to be pushing on the one above Frog. As I looked more closely, the man lunged at the pillar, then backed off as the column began to teeter and fall.
"Frog!" I yelled, watching in horror as the pillar came toward him.
He looked up and dove out of the way with surprising agility just as the heavy structure came crashing down.