When the routine was done, we jumped and high-fived the parents around us. Most of them were dressed like us: Pumas shirts and jeans. There was one couple who wasn’t and I would bet my life they were Parker’s parents. Her mother was wearing a wool houndstooth pantsuit and designer heels that looked dangerous on these bleachers. She was accessorized with tons of flashy jewelry. It was borderline gaudy. Her dad wore slacks, a sweater, and loafers. They looked completely out of place with the rest of the families who were holding up large, obnoxious signs with glitter guaranteed to draw the team’s attention.

“Way to go, Pumas!” Wyatt yelled in the quiet moment before the next cheer team began. The team looked up at us and waved. When my eyes found Parker’s, I felt a jolt and gave her a little fist pump.

When the competition broke for lunch, we were allowed to go down to the main floor and chat with the cheerleaders. Max and I found our squad while the rest of the guys sought out new ones to talk to.

“That was great!” Max hugged the group. They all loved him. “Why don’t you do these cheers at the games? They’re amazing.”

“We don’t want to die on the track. At least here we have mats,” Amberlynn said.

“You should take the field before we do. I can ask Coach to give you all a few minutes. It’s impressive.”

“That would be cool,” Missy said.

“When are you up again?” I asked.

“They’ll announce the second round in about half an hour.” Missy turned back to the squad. “Go hang out with your families or wherever. Just make sure you’re back in this spot in twenty-nine minutes for the results.”

“Do you want to grab something from the vendor trucks out front? The lines here are too long and I could use some fresh air,” Max said. We’d driven through McDonald’s drive-thru for breakfast, but that was four hours ago. I wasn’t hungry until he mentioned it. Parker was walking away with her parents. Talking to her any time soon was out of the question.

“How come Becca didn’t join us?” Max’s girlfriend loved cheerleading and said if she wasn’t such a klutz, she would do it.

“Scholarship stuff.”

“Sutton!”

I looked around when I heard somebody calling my name. My eyes landed on Missy. She waved me over to a group of cheerleaders I didn’t recognize. Max and I walked over to them. “What’s up?”

“I was just telling these lovely cheerleaders that we have a female quarterback, and they didn’t believe me. Everyone, this is Sutton McCoy, our quarterback, and she’s amazing,” Missy said.

I looked at Max briefly. “Thanks. Hi, I’m Sutton.”

“How good are you?” one of the cheerleaders asked.

I shrugged. “Good enough.”