36 - Elizabeth
Elizabeth
I stepped back from the bulletin board and tilted my head so I could take in the full scale of the poster I had just taped to the wall.
The paper was bright and bold, with the words GO HIGHLANDERS printed across the top in deep blue and gold.
And with the Havenport colors glowing under the fluorescent lights, it looked like it was coming to life.
Beneath the words was a photo of the team from earlier in the season. It showed them standing shoulder to shoulder on the field with helmets tucked under their arms and determination written across their faces. It wasn’t the best photo they had ever taken, but it was real.
With a hopeful sigh, I pressed the corner of the poster flat and smoothed the tape against the wall before stepping away completely. The entire hallway had been transformed. When the season started, the walls had been bare. They seemed to have been plain and forgotten.
And the atmosphere on campus had been a million times worse. The students had turned the losing streak into a running joke. Memes had circulated through group chats, and someone had taped a fake scoreboard up outside the cafeteria that read: Havenport—0, Everyone else—Infinity.
People used to laugh when the guys walked past them, but now it was different.
Now the walls were covered in blue and gold.
Posters stretched all along the hallway.
Some were neatly printed by the student council, while others were obviously homemade.
Those were the hand-painted signs with crooked lettering, and they hung beside the professionally made posters with pride.
Kind of like the guys. And each of them had a different slogan.
LAST HOME GAME!
HIGHLANDERS VS WESTCONN.
LET’S PACK THE STANDS!
I don’t know if it was the look or the way they had managed to motivate me, but I felt a small, quiet sense of satisfaction settle in my chest. This expedition had started as a simple idea.
We wanted to make a few posters to show our support for the team and maybe grow their following, but somewhere along the way the entire campus had gotten involved.
“It’s looking really good! Much better than the plain old boring white.”
I turned around and nearly fell over Jenna. She had another stack of fliers pressed to her chest.
“You think?” I asked as another wave of nervous energy washed over me.
Jenna glanced down the hall and smiled. “Just look at them.”
I followed her gaze and saw two freshmen walking up to us. They had their backpacks slung over their shoulders, and one of them slowed down to read a poster. Then he nodded approvingly.
“Hey,” he said as they approached us. “Good luck for tomorrow.”
I blinked in disbelief. Nothing like that had ever happened before. “Thanks.”
The guys kept walking, and another group of students passed a few minutes later. One girl stopped briefly and adjusted a poster that had come loose on one side.
“Go, Highlanders,” she said casually before continuing down the hall.
I exchanged a look with Jenna. “That’s new.”
Jenna grinned. “There are no memes.”
“And no nasty comments,” I added.
The two of us walked toward the student center, and for the first time I noticed how our footsteps echoed against the tile floor.
It felt like the calm before the storm. Like we were about to make history, the kind that those exact tiles would remember for years to come.
Like we were leaving our mark on Havenport.
The campus itself felt different, too. There were students lingering in small groups outside the buildings.
People were talking about tomorrow’s game like it actually mattered, and a few of them were even wearing the school colors.
For the first time in the entire season, it felt like people were actually rooting for the team.
Near the quad, we passed the new batch of cheerleaders as they were heading to practice.
“Elizabeth,” one of them called out. “Did you put up all those posters?”
“It was a team effort,” I said. “But yes, I put up some of them.”
She gave me a dazzling smile. “They look amazing. I’m sure they’ll get a lot of attention.”
“Yeah,” another girl added. “People are actually talking about attending the game.”
A smile played at the corners of my lips. “That’s the idea.”
As we continued across the campus, Jenna bumped into me. I looked over at her and was met with the same smile she had plastered across her face since she first came to meet me. She was enthusiastic, and it was becoming contagious, but deep down I secretly prayed for the best.
“The tides are shifting,” she whispered ominously.
I looked back at everything we had just passed and for a moment I allowed myself to believe that maybe they were.
*
We had gathered outside the athletic building and were waiting to be called into Harris’s classroom for the emergency meeting he called. Jenna and I were very concerned because he had never asked the cheer squad to join before, so it could only be something bad, right?
I leaned against the brick wall, nervously adjusting the sleeves of my jacket as the other girls chatted casually nearby. Across the courtyard, the football players started arriving in small groups, and they looked just as anxious as we were, but apparently they were determined not to show it.
Cam was the first to notice me, and he raised his arms dramatically. “Poster queen!”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Don’t start.”
“I saw those things all over the campus. You’re like our one-woman marketing department.”
“I had some help,” I said, motioning to the rest of the girls.
Behind him, Ethan slowly climbed the steps.
He swung his backpack lazily over one shoulder, and his hair was a total mess.
It was clear that he ran his hands through it a lot.
He must’ve been just as worried as I was, but the moment his eyes met mine, his expression softened.
He gave me one of those secretive smiles, and I felt warmth blossom in my chest.
“Did you start this whole propaganda run?” he asked as he finally reached me.
“Motivational campaign,” I corrected.
“Is there a difference?” he asked with a wink.
I gave him a dazzling smile, knowing he was just messing around, but then his demeanor changed. He looked nervous and slightly afraid.
He leaned in closer. “Are you coming tomorrow?”
I took his hand. “I’ve never missed a game.”
“This one is different, though.”
Before I could ask what he meant, the classroom door swung open. He pulled his hand out of mine and quickly turned around, anxious to find out what was happening.
“Okay,” Harris said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
The guys went in first and took their seats in the front while we followed closely behind. I took a seat next to Jenna in the third row, and the room started buzzing with curiosity. Many questions were thrown at the coach, but he ignored them until everyone was ready and seated.
He stood at the front of the room with his arms folded across his chest, but there was something about him that seemed different. He looked more energized, confident even.
“First things first,” he said as the room settled.
Then he gestured to the back of the room. Two equipment managers rolled in a large rack that was covered by a thick, heavy black sheet. The entire room fell silent.
Cam leaned forward and whispered, “Please tell me that’s what I think it is.”
Harris smirked. “Pull it!”
One of the staff members grabbed the corner of the sheet and pulled. It seemed to be falling in slow motion, but our eyes still followed, hoping to catch a glimpse of what it concealed. Then, as it hit the ground, gasps began filling the room.
Hanging neatly on the rack were brand-new football uniforms. They looked like royalty compared to the worn-out, mismatched outfits the guys had been wearing all season.
These were sleek, deep Havenport blue jerseys with bold golden numbers that caught the light as the rack shifted.
They had a clean white trim line on the shoulders, and the Highlanders crest gleamed proudly across the chest.
The helmets were even better. They had polished navy shells with a sharp gold stripe down the center.
And the Highlander emblem shining on each side.
My jaw dropped. It had been a long time since I had seen the school give us something this good.
And I was sure that it would have a massive impact on the attitude the guys had been having toward the team.
“That looks incredible,” Jenna whispered.
The guys were already on their feet, crowding around the rack. Cam quickly grabbed one of the helmets and turned it in his hands while Malik counted every single item.
“No way,” Cam said, giving the helmet a good squeeze.
“There’s enough for everyone,” Malik said in a tone of utter disbelief.
Lucas ran his fingers over the fabric of one of the jerseys and gasped. “They’re legit.”
“They smell so… new,” Dylan said, taking a deep breath.”
Harris gave them a good moment to take the new uniforms in, but then he cleared his throat and raised a hand.
“Sit down, gentlemen,” he said, sounding as serious as ever.
The guys were clearly disgruntled, but they did as they were told without putting up a fight.
Then Harris nodded toward the second rack, which was slightly hidden behind the first. The screen fell to the ground, and my heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I blinked a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things, but no, it was very real.
Coach Harris had convinced them to replace our uniforms, too.
Our new outfits followed the same blue and gold color scheme, but the design was sharper and more modern.
The lines were cleaner, and the logos were embroidered instead of printed.
And the fabric looked stronger and more athletic than the uniforms we had been wearing.
Jenna grabbed my arm and squeezed, “Are you seeing this?”
“They’re gorgeous,” one of the other girls whispered.
Harris stepped forward. “You’ve all worked your asses off this season. You didn’t get the wins, but you got something else. Something far more valuable. You became a team.”
He paused to look around the room. None of them laughed, and there were no arguments. They had just gotten quiet. I glanced over at the guys as well. Ethan sat in the second row, his fingers resting on the edge of the desk as he took in the uniforms like they were something precious.
“Every practice,” Harris continued. “Every loss and every bus ride was an opportunity for you to quit, but you didn’t. That was what the administration wanted to see.”
The room was so quiet you could hear the few nervous swallows that followed his words. It had quickly become clear that this wasn’t just a gift or a motivational speech. It carried more weight than we understood.
“The higher-ups will be watching tomorrow’s game very closely,” he said, and the weight of his words could clearly be heard. “They want to know if this program is worth investing in, and this game will be their deciding factor.”
My stomach churned. That was it. They were willing to give a little to see where it would lead them. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever experienced, considering that these guys had put everything on the line for this team.
“But I already know the answer,” Harris added, and his voice softened just a little. “Because I’ve seen the work you’ve put in. These are the first steps. The proof that this team is worth paying for. That you are worth fighting for.”
Cam raised his hand. “So… hypothetically speaking…”
Harris sighed, and a few of the other guys groaned.
“If we lose tomorrow… do we need to give our uniforms back?”
A few of the other players chuckled, but Harris’s expression darkened dangerously. He looked at Cam for a long moment, deciding how he was going to deal with the situation.
“If we lose tomorrow, the uniforms will be the least of our concerns,” he mumbled.