The roar of the crowd was deafening, the scent of popcorn and late-summer sweat heavy in the air. Beneath the Friday night lights, Lincoln High's football field was electric with tension—not just from the score, tied 21-21 in the last quarter—but because this wasn't just any game. It was the game: Lincoln High versus Ridgeway Prep.
Two rival schools. Two sides of the same town that hadn't agreed on anything in decades.
And right in the middle of it all stood Athena Jacobs.
High ponytail tight, red and black uniform pristine despite the humidity, Athena led her cheer squad with a confidence that demanded attention. Her voice cut through the chaos with practiced perfection, every move sharp, every smile choreographed for maximum impact. She was Lincoln High—cheer captain, top student, the girl everyone knew and the one everyone expected to lead them to victory.
But her mind wasn't entirely on the game. Not tonight.
Because across the field, dressed in Ridgeway's infamous navy and gold, was Mason Black.
Number 7. Quarterback. Star player. Charismatic, infuriating, off-limits.
Athena met Mason once—last year at a state sports banquet neither of their schools wanted to attend. It was supposed to be neutral ground. Awards. Polite applause. Nothing more. But in a room full of rivals, he had been the only one to make her laugh. His confidence hadn't come with arrogance. His smile had been genuine, curious. Dangerous.
They'd talked for ten minutes. Just ten. But she remembered every word.
Now, here he was, charging across the field like he owned it. Every time the ball left his hands, it felt like time slowed. He was fast, strategic, brilliant under pressure. And even from across the field, he noticed her. Eyes locked. Just for a second. Just enough.
"Athena!" someone hissed. "You missed the cue!"
Snapping out of it, she fell back into formation, face burning. She didn't mess up. Ever. But this… this was Mason Black. Rival. Enemy. The guy she hadn't been able to forget for an entire year.
The buzzer sounded. Overtime.
Both crowds went wild. Her girls surrounded her, waiting for instructions. She gave them out robotically, watching Ridgeway huddle on the sidelines. Mason was in the center, his back to her, shoulders broad beneath his jersey. When he turned, he didn't look at his coach.
He looked at her.
And winked.
Athena's heart stuttered.
She hated him. She had to. Lincoln girls didn't fall for Ridgeway boys. It wasn't just social suicide—it was betrayal.
But when he led Ridgeway to a narrow victory moments later, and the crowd exploded in blue and gold, her eyes weren't on the scoreboard. They were on him, running toward the end zone like he was born to win.
And when he turned back just once, scanning the losing team's sideline with that same grin…
She knew he was looking for her.