Offsetting Penalties

by Ally Mathews

  Izzy shook her head and watched while Garret and one of the other players went onto the field to speak with the referees and two guys from the other team. She’d forgotten about the coin toss to decide who would receive the ball. The Renegades won and decided to kick off.

  Garret seemed so confident out there, like it was where he belonged. Suddenly, she really wanted to be the one who helped him get that scholarship he so desperately wanted. It wasn’t like she wanted a real relationship with him, not really, but it would make her feel more justified in her questionable actions if she could do something to help him, too.

  “What are they doing here? It looks like somebody let the animals out of the barn.”

  Izzy glanced over her shoulder and spotted some of the JV cheerleaders a few rows up. They were speaking loudly on purpose, and of course they were talking about her and her friends. That was exactly why a real relationship would never work with Garret. She hoped there wouldn’t be a need for them to pretend to date, either, because it would be just as bad.

  Jeremy scooched about a foot away from Izzy and starting drumming on the bleachers and singing loudly. “Who let the hoes out, who, who.”

  It took all of her willpower not to turn around and see how the girls were reacting. The few adults in their section openly stared at him, but he kept going until the cheerleaders left.

  Once play started, she tuned everything else out, including the cheerleaders and Jeremy and Trevor writing lyrics to a song about a comet hitting the stadium, and focused on the game. She’d looked on the school website to confirm that Garret’s position was tight end, which according to her book, meant he was used both as a blocker and a receiver. More often than not in this game, they used him as a receiver.

  Before she knew it, the whistle blew, signaling the end of the first half. The Renegades were up by a touchdown. Izzy shifted her focus back to her friends, who were arguing about something. Dancing had trained her to be able to block out everything.

  “Izzy, you know I love you, but I can’t take any more of this,” Jeremy said. “The pandas at the National Zoo get less attention than we’ve had tonight. Anybody want to join me to see if the Dairy Hut will give us our milkshakes early?”

  “I will,” Trevor said, and of course Stacy decided to go with them.

  Audrey met her eyes and raised her brows.

  “You can go if you want. I know this isn’t your scene.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to leave you here alone among the sharks.”

  Izzy laughed. “I’ll be fine. Go on.”

  “Call me when you get home.”

  She glanced around and waved to her neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Conrad, but there was no one else she knew well enough to talk to. She spent so much time alone at home it didn’t really bother her. At least the side-eye families had stopped judging now that she was by herself. She sat back down to make some notes about the way Garret balanced when he was blocking. He’d have a lot more leverage if he kept his weight on the ball of his foot, just like she’d told him with his leaps.

  All things considered, he’d been pretty nice to her despite her attempt to blackmail him. She didn’t know many other people who would’ve agreed to dance with her after that, even with free lessons, and he got mega bonus points for including his sister in their agreement. If they were dating for real, she imagined he would be the kind of guy who’d open the car door for her and insist on paying for her dinner.

  The stadium erupted in sound. The players had returned for the second half. Despite herself, a shiver of excitement zipped through her. Though she’d never admit it, she was enjoying watching Garret play. He was fast and strong, and she liked knowing she had contributed at least a little to his success.

  They lined up, and the opposing team kicked off. Garret ran in front of the guy who had the ball and pushed people out of the way as he went. With his help, the Renegades ran it all the way down for a touchdown.

  When there were just two minutes left in the game, Garret caught a short pass along the Renegade sideline and ran forty yards to score a touchdown. With a twenty-one point lead, she figured they were guaranteed a win and decided to leave early to avoid traffic. Except for the reminder about keeping his weight centered, she didn’t have much to suggest to him. Maybe she’d come up with something before they met for his lesson tomorrow.

  Murmuring excuses multiple times, she finally made her way down the row and rushed onto the stairs that exited under the bleachers. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark after the bright lights above, and she nearly smacked into someone coming up.

  He grabbed her upper arms to steady her. “Leaving so early?”

  The rumble of his familiar voice made her breath catch. “Garret? Shouldn’t you be on the field?”

  “Coach won’t put me back in again this late in the game when we’re so far ahead. I saw you running away and wanted to make sure everything is all right.”

  “I was just trying to get out of here before the rush. You know, beat the traffic in the parking lot.”

  “What happened to all of your friends? Did you have a fight?”

  “No. They got bored and left at halftime. This isn’t really their scene.”

  His brown eyes caught and held her gaze, sending a shiver through her despite the heat. “But you stayed.”

  She nodded, suddenly embarrassed, though she wasn’t sure why. “I couldn’t very well leave that early after I said I’d watch your game.”

  “Will you wait for me? I’ll try to be fast, but we never know how long Coach will talk, and I need to shower after that.”

  “My dad is back in town. I have to be home by midnight.”

  He glanced at his wrist, but he wasn’t wearing a watch.

  She bit back a grin. “It’s just after ten.”

  “I have to go or Coach will kill me.” He walked backward down the stairs. “Wait for me. I’ll find your car.”

  She grinned stupidly at him until he was out of sight.

  He’d asked her to stay. She let herself grin for a moment in the relative darkness of the staircase, then went back and sat in the nearly empty stands and watched everyone filing out to the parking lot. She always carried a book with her, so she took it out and opened it but didn’t look at the page. It was just to discourage anyone from talking to her.

  About ten minutes after the stadium cleared out, she got a text from Garret.

  I’m at your car, but you’re not???????

  I’m still in the stands.

  Sooner than she would’ve suspected, he popped out of the staircase. They’d turned the lights off a few minutes before, but it was still bright enough to see clearly, since it took a while for them to cool down.

  “Did you measure the bleachers to make sure you were in the exact middle?”

  She grinned. “No, I just wanted to be able to see both ends of the field.”

  She balanced on the bench with her legs crossed. He flopped down beside her and leaned back with his elbows against the row behind them.

  “Are you interested in going to a party?”

  She shook her head. Definitely not, though she was glad to know that he wasn’t embarrassed to have his friends see them together. “No, but thanks for asking.”

  “I figured that’s what you’d say.”

  “What if I’d said yes? I don’t think your crowd would welcome me.” She bit her lip.

  “The guys on the team already suspect something, since they all saw me shoot up here to intercept you before you could leave. If it seems like we’re hooking up, they’ll never guess about the ballet stuff.”

  Why did his perfectly reasonable explanation feel like a stab in the back? Her father would kill them both if he ever heard of a rumor about them hooking up. “Go catch up with your friends. We can talk tomorrow.”

  “Nah. I’d rather stay with you.”

  Her heart flip-flopped, and she was glad the lights had dimmed, because she was pretty sure her face was red. “H
ere?”

  “Wherever you want.”

  “Here it is.” She turned ninety degrees to face him. “What made you want to play football?”

  His eyes widened. “Not the question I was expecting.”

  She paused for a second, but then decided it was better not to ask what he’d thought she was going to say. “Is it just that you’re a boy from Texas, so you have to?”

  He laughed. “No. I’m not a sheep that follows blindly. I’ve wanted to play football for as long as I can remember. I was three or four when my dad took me to my first Renegades game, and I was hooked from the moment the game started. Dad said I stood on my seat for the entire game, holding a hot dog and a soda, but never took a single bite or sip.”

  Izzy smiled at the image of a tiny Garret mesmerized by the game. He had probably been adorable when he was little.

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “You know what it’s like around here. There’s no hero greater than the quarterback of the football team. Even though I watched college and professional games as I got older, I was still obsessed with playing on the varsity team. There’s nothing like running out onto that field with the fans screaming for you and knowing it’s in your power to win the game, to make the whole town happy for at least a few hours, no matter what else is going on in their lives.”

  Somehow he’d managed to capture the reason she loved to dance.

  He glanced down at his shoes. “Man, that makes me sound so cocky.”

  She shook her head. “No, I get it. That’s why I love to dance. It’s about telling a story, pulling the audience into what I’m doing and transporting them into my world with me. Making them forget whatever’s bothering them for a while.”

  He squeezed her hand and held on to it. “Yes. That.”

  His hand was warm and dry and much larger than hers. He made her feel small in comparison, delicate even, though she was usually the tallest girl in whatever room she was in. They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the sound of the crickets, the faint noises coming from the highway a few miles away reminding them that they weren’t alone. The lights were dim and probably close to shutting completely off.

  She gently pulled her hand away and reached for her purse. “So, what happened to wanting to be the quarterback? Despite my lack of football knowledge, I looked you up on the school website, and you’re the tight end.”

  He shrugged. “It turns out I’m better at catching than throwing.”

  “Well, I have a few pointers for you.”

  His brows shot up. “You do?”

  “Isn’t that why you wanted me to come? So I could give you more advice about how to improve your game?”

  His smile dropped. “Yeah, sure.”

  Her chest tightened. She’d done something wrong, but she wasn’t sure what. Maybe Jeremy was right that Garret had some other motive for helping her. “Remember everything I told you about leaping? The stacking and all that?”

  He nodded.

  “You need to do that when you block, too. You kept rolling to the outside of your feet and digging your heels in. That messes up your balance and makes it more difficult for you to keep your forward momentum.”

  He grinned, and her heart skipped a beat. “So you want me to keep my weight on the ball of my feet even when a three hundred pound guy is trying to get past me to sack our quarterback?”

  She nodded. “Only dig your heels in as a last resort if the guy is already pushing you back. Otherwise, when you’re balanced, it gives you the leverage you need to push someone out of your way. Remember your lessons about how to leap?”

  “You know I do.”

  “Well, think about what you learned and apply it to blocking.”

  He nodded. “I get what you’re saying, but it’s hard to remember when someone’s trying to tear your head off.”

  “That’s why repetition is so important.”

  “And here I thought you could only have your head torn off once.”

  She smacked the back of her hand against his arm. “Very funny. You need to practice until it’s second nature and you don’t have to think about it, you just do it automatically. I’ve probably done a plié millions of times.”

  He glanced at his phone. That was her cue to leave. His friends were probably texting, trying to get him to go to whatever party they were enjoying. No doubt there were cheerleaders waiting for him. She stood. “It’s eleven thirty. I need to head home.”

  “Okay.” He followed her down the bleachers and stayed with her when he should’ve headed for his car, which was probably parked back behind the locker rooms.

  “You don’t need to walk me to my car.”

  “Maybe I want to.”

  “Then maybe I want you to.” What was she doing? She shouldn’t be encouraging him. “Oh, I almost forgot. Did you find better cleats to wear?”

  “Elliot and I bent every pair of cleats at Sports Depot, and I bought the pair we decided were the most flexible. There’s not a lot of variety, but Coach said he’d look into getting some samples sent, so maybe I’ll be able to find something better. I just don’t want to buy something online without testing it first.”

  They’d reached her car, and she wasn’t sure how to say good-bye without it being weird and awkward. “So, thanks for inviting me to the game. I’m glad I came.”

  “So am I.” He held her gaze, and her heart thumped so hard she was afraid he could hear it.

  He ran the pad of his index finger along her jaw, sending sparks of electricity through her, then he leaned in and pressed his warm, soft lips against her forehead. She went weak in the knees but managed to stay upright. They were both still for the space of a heartbeat, then he pulled away.

  “So, thanks for inviting me. I had a good time. Good night,” she babbled. Pressing the key fob, she clicked the locks open and slipped into the car at warp speed. Though she couldn’t be sure with the parking lot lights reflecting on her tinted windows, it looked like he was smiling.

  Chapter Nine

  Since Isabelle had practically run from him after the football game, Garret wasn’t sure what to expect from her. He had thought dancing with her was the right thing to do after she’d helped him improve his football skills, and Hannah was really excited to take dance lessons, but he wasn’t so sure after last night. Elliot definitely thought Isabelle was bad news. Maybe he was just nervous about actually dancing with her. After all, she was a perfectionist, and there wasn’t nearly enough time for him to become even a good dancer.

  It was time for their first lesson with Lauren, who was supposed to teach them how to dance together.

  Why are the hallways here so small?

  He pulled at the collar of his shirt. It was one thing to learn some stretches and stuff to help with football, but dancing with a girl in front of a professional instructor was another thing altogether.

  The door was open, so he peeked into the studio they usually used and spotted Isabelle stretching on the barre. His breath caught in his throat. For him, it was a medieval-style torture device, but it was different for her. Even something as simple as stretching looked graceful when she did it.

  He cleared his throat, and she looked up. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Just a few seconds.”

  Without effort, she lifted her leg off the barre and turned to him. “Lauren is running late, so I thought we could go ahead and measure you for your costume while we wait.”

  That sounded ominous. “Wow. You work quickly. What sort of costume?”

  “Well, you’re playing the part of the prince, so something royal-looking. Once we have your measurements and you try some things on, we’ll go through the catalogues and decide what’ll work best.”

  “The prince of what?”

  “We’re doing a short version of Sleeping Beauty.”

  “You didn’t tell me we’d be doing a performance based on a little girl’s cartoon. I might as well just hand you my man card right now.”

/>   She spun around and put her hands on her hips. “Sleeping Beauty is a fairy tale that was written in the 1600s. Tchaikovsky, one of the greatest composers of all time, wrote the ballet and composed all of the music.”

  “Okay.” He held his hands up in surrender. “Overreact much?”

  “How could you not recognize the music when I played it?”

  “Did you recognize the formations we used in the game last night?” he countered.

  She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t expect you to know about ballet.”

  Maybe he should’ve asked more about what they were doing. Then again, it wasn’t as if he had a choice about any of this stuff. He was just a warm body so she had someone to dance with.

  “To save time, I can just tell you my measurements.”

  She scrunched her nose. “Unless you measure yourself frequently, it won’t help. And I doubt whatever part of you you’re measuring is what we’ll need to fit your costume.”

  He nearly laughed but covered it with a cough. “You make it sound so dirty.”

  It was too easy to make her blush, which made her lavender eyes darker. Her Goth friends must be a lot more polite than the guys he hung out with, otherwise she would’ve learned by now to be more careful about what she said.

  Her amazing eyes narrowed. “I was referring to— Oh, never mind. Let’s just go.” She stormed out of the room, and he had to jog to keep up. There were still classes going on in two of the studios. Hopefully none of the younger girls would wander out and catch an eyeful of him getting measured.

  He followed her to a closed room. She knocked, then opened the door. The space was more jumbled than the salvage yard. It was stuffed with clothes, furniture, fabric, ribbons, old shoes, and a bunch of other junk. It smelled faintly like a locker room, without the air fresheners that always seemed to highlight the stink rather than covering it.

  Isabelle plowed through the mess and snatched a cloth tape measure off a table, then went to the desk and picked up a pencil and a pad of paper. “Okay, I’ll warn you now. This is going to be awkward. I’ll try not to manhandle you, but this is gonna feel a lot like an airport pat down, so be prepared.”