Unintended Consequences

Chapter 21

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"Come on, Charlotte!" Madeline whined loudly from the kitchen as she mixed a drink into a plastic water bottle. "You have to come. I don't want to go alone, and besides, it's Emmett's game too!"

    I sighed deeply as I weighed my options. It was Wednesday afternoon. This was the last home game for the boys before Thanksgiving, and I really did want to support them. But I hadn't seen Archer since last week and I was still so conflicted about it. On one hand, I was really hurt by his words. It wasn't even necessarily what he said to me, but how he said it. He treated me how he usually does everyone else, but never me. I get the secret smiles, and extra-tight hugs—not the snappy words and hard eyes. But then suddenly, it was as though the rug had been ripped out from under me, and I wasn't special anymore.

    On the other hand, I was embarrassed. I had let my anxiety and negative thoughts control my actions. I'd stormed away without letting him talk, and then ignored him when he tried calling me later. A part of me had hoped he would try again, but he didn't. Probably because he had realized how dramatic I could be and decided I wasn't worth it.

    "Look," Madeline continued as she walked through my open door, "I know you are stressed about all of this, but it's not like you even need to see or talk to Archer. He'll be playing and we'll be in the stands. And we can leave right after the game!"

    I pulled on my fingers nervously, "What if he doesn't want me there?"

    "Girl, trust me. He wants you there. That boy loves seeing you in the stands and I doubt one little tiff is going to change that."

    "Fine," I groaned loudly as I stood up to get dressed in my USC t-shirt and dark skinny jeans. My hand twitched over Archer's hoodie, did I dare wear it? Would he see it as a peace offering to support him, or annoying?

    "It's cold, wear it," Madeline ordered decisively when she saw where I had paused. I tried not to think about it too much as I pulled the hoodie over my head and fixed my hair.

    We rushed to the stadium with the hoard of other students adorned in red and gold. Having been to a few of these now, the excited energy of a live crowd didn't make me nervous anymore. In fact, I'd become infatuated with it. There was something about all of us USC supporters, sitting together, wearing our colors proudly, cheering our team's successes—it united us.

    Madeline pulled me to two open seats in the front row, right behind the barrier to the field. I looked out at the player's warming up, anxiously scanning the jerseys for #32. I barely even noticed the crowd around me in my search for Archer.

    "Well look who we have here," a smarmy voice sounded from next to me.

    "Oh, hi Nathaniel." I tried to plaster a polite smile on my face. Internally though I cringed that I was stuck next to him for three hours at least.

    Nathaniel's gaze, once again, unapologetically roamed my body. I was very thankful I'd chosen to wear Archer's hoodie once his eyes briefly rested on the USC QB1 on my chest. I never really realized it before that because only team members got these hoodies, wearing Archer's could look like a claim. But as Nathaniel cleared his throat and rested back in his seat away from me, I didn't mind the misunderstanding.

    The players cleared off the field to go back to their locker room as the announcer's voice boomed around us—introducing the USC Song Girls. Beautiful girls dressed in white uniforms ran out of the tunnels shaking their red and gold pom poms energetically as they stopped in a formation—waiting for the music to begin. I saw Holly and that red-headed cheerleader that had escorted Archer at the Pep Rally front and center.