41. Gigi
CHAPTER 41
Gigi
SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD
The crowd roars. One half is jumping up and down in joy while the other is chanting for a rematch. The football team of Kinsdale Springs High just beat its opponent—the guys from Marble Crest.
My eyes glint with pride as they search for my boyfriend in a sea of people. Andrew told me he’d come today. When he does make it to these games, he usually sits on our side of the stadium. He’s here to watch me cheer, after all. The guy doesn’t even care about football and he doesn’t try to hide it. Since today’s match is against his own school, I squint my eyes to try and find him on the other side of the field. Maybe he’s there.
“Have you seen Andrew?” I ask Lauren, my best friend.
“Sorry, babe.” She shakes her head.
“Maybe he sat on the other side,” Lauren’s boyfriend, Bryan, chimes in as he drapes his arm around her shoulders. “It’s his school, after all.”
“Nope.” Not there, either. “Maybe he’s waiting for me in the parking lot.”
“Tell him his school’s football team sucks, Gigi,” Bryan jokes with a smug grin.
“You stink, Bryan,” I say with a smirk. “Go shower.”
Turning on my heel, I take my phone out and open the messaging app.
Where are you?
Twenty minutes pass by and Andrew still hasn’t responded to me. My fingers start tapping on my screen as I wait for him to answer. I was sure that he would’ve shown up outside the changing room, but here I am, all changed and still no sign of my boyfriend.
Should I catch a ride with someone else?
One by one, cars start exiting the parking lot, leaving in droves to go to the after-party. I sit cross-legged on the sidewalk, waiting for the owner of the blue SUV, one of the only vehicles still parked here, to come out.
Did you get diarrhea or something?
Just as I am about to call Lauren and ask her whether it’s too late for Bryan to turn around and for them to give me a lift, I see two jean-clad legs walk toward me. “I got caught up. Sorry.”
I take the hand he’s offering and lift myself up. I’m about to give him the cold shoulder for not replying to my texts and making me sit out here in the cold when my eyes widen at the sight of his bloody knuckles. “Andrew, what the fuck?”
Andrew’s eyes meet mine and they’re filled with an expression I can’t make out. His dirty blond hair is disheveled. The skin on his right cheekbone is red, which I’m sure will turn into a bruise. I look at him up and down to make sure his battle scars aren’t accompanied by a stab wound somewhere.
“Got into a fight.” No shit, Sherlock.
“With whom?” I ask, almost thinking he’s joking. I might have only known him since November last year, but Andrew doesn’t get into fights. He’s the guy who makes a fool of himself at parties because he thinks it’s funny. He’s everyone’s friend. Literally, every single person that I have introduced him to gushed about how much they like him.
“It doesn’t matter, babe.” He’s giving me a look to please just drop this conversation. Nuh uh . “Can we skip the party at Mackenzie’s today? I’m not in the mood.”
“Only if you tell me what happened,” I say, using this as my way in.
“Gigi, just drop it.” Andrew takes my hand and starts leading me to his car, gripping it tight.
“Tell me what happened, please,” I plead, halting my steps. “Tell me and then we can go home to my place. Mom’s working and Becca is at a sleepover.” I take his wounded hand and hold it with both of mine, tracing my finger on the red, swollen knuckles before stopping when he hisses. “Let’s clean you up.”
“Fine,” he finally relents. “An idiot from my school was making comments about you. Said you looked really hot in your cheer outfit.”
“You don’t beat a guy up for saying that, Andrew.”
“That’s not why I punched him,” Andrew sighs. He pulls me closer to him, resting his hands on the curve of my back. “I did it because he said he’d like to fuck you and make me watch.”
Small town boys are idiots. This is what happens when you have nothing else better to do. You rile each other up. I guess it must get boring for the kids at Marble Crest High, too.