Free If Only You Knew by Denene Millner Page B

toes, and hyping the crowd when they piled into a heap on top of her sparkling silver Reeboks, sending both her and her pom-poms flying into several other squad members. The College Park lineman bounced up like it wasn’t anything, hooting and high-fiving his fellow teammates over his victorious sack, but Lauren was clearly going to need a minute or two to get over her near-death experience.
    â€œYou okay?” Jason asked, rushing over and extending his hand to help Lauren up. Still stunned, Lauren couldn’t find any words for a response, but she grabbed his hand and let him pull her to her feet. Damn—he was kind of a hottie. If she wasn’t strung out on Jermaine like a crackhead, she might have had to make like a good Christian and extend the hand of fellowship to Jason in her cuddle corner at church on Sunday.
    â€œYou okay?” Jason repeated before shoving back his mouthpiece. Lauren, now surrounded by her fellow squad members swarming and clucking and dusting dirt off her knees and skirt, managed an “I’m good,” before Jason rushed back onto the field, his teammates slapping his back and yelling and offering up “way to hustle.”
    â€œOhmigod, Lauren, you almost got sacked by number ninety-five,” Cassie said.
    â€œWell, nobody said this job wasn’t hazardous,” Lauren offered, still a bit stunned. “I hope they at least give his ass a flag for tackling Jason out of bounds.”
    â€œNope— nada, ” said Inga, sucking her teeth. “I swear that ref must be on College Park’s payroll. He’s conveniently missing all the calls and we’re getting k-i-l-l-e-d out there.”
    â€œShoot, we’d be getting slayed even if every call went our way. Brookhaven football officially sucks ass,” Lauren chuckled as she grabbed her pom-poms from Cassie. “Come on, everybody—I’m all right,” she insisted. “Time for the basket toss. Cassie, Inga, you guys base me.”
    And with swift precision, the squad lined up in three groups of four, with Lauren in the middle, smiling and happily accepting her applause from the crowd, which was on its feet and clapping for her miraculously quick comeback.
    â€œB-R-O-O-K-H-A-V-E-N,” the squad yelled as Lauren and the two other flyers were hoisted into the air. Lauren, who learned from Keisha how to concentrate and hold the attention of the crowd by focusing on one specific person in the audience, scanned the bleachers to find someone to stare at as Cassie, Inga, and another squad member, Morgan, hoisted her into the air. The field lights blared down on the bleachers, giving a spotlight effect on the crowd, which pulsed with blue-and-silver “Brookhaven Eagles” sweatshirts and flags, and painted faces contorted into angry directives for the team to “Come on!” and “Hustle, Eagles, hustle!” Somehow,Lauren’s eyes landed on a shirt that wasn’t blue, perhaps because it stood out from the school colors that dominated the stands, perhaps because he was one of the few people not clapping and yelling like a maniac. This person, a young man, was wearing neon yellow—a hoodie—with an oversized gray T-shirt with a silver skull peeking from beneath. His cap was twisted to the side of his face but pulled down low, almost as if he were trying to hide behind it. But, for Lauren, that face was unmistakable.
    It was Jermaine.
    Lauren’s heart raced as Cassie and Inga popped her into the air. She’d performed the move she was executing—a kewpie—a million times, but this minute, right now, she could barely breathe, let alone stick her jump with her man staring back at her. As she waited for the count-off that would signal her bases to pop her into a basket toss, Lauren searched Jermaine’s face for a sign that he was watching her back. Their eyes connected just as Lauren pushed off Cassie’s and Inga’s open palms;