“Buzz, buzz, buzz!”

Echoing through the air amidst pom-pom shimmies and cheers in the bleachers was the corny-ass mascot chant for the soccer team in which Shauna played defence. The brunette hated soccer—despised it. The only reason she started in the first place was cause of Jackie.

Then came you.

Pretty hair, pretty eyes, prettier smile. Dressed to the nines in a navy and gold athletic skirt and cheer top—white sneakers and ribbon braided into your hair.

Yeah. Shauna could get used to that sight.

It didn’t take much to tip you off that she had a thing for you—the staring during practice and actually losing focus mid-game because you were at the side of the field gave it away bad. Real bad.

You’d never talked much, mostly trading quick “hellos” and “good games” and gentle smiles. Little interactions that slowly became part of the high of her day.

After a game on Sunday, duffle bag slung over shoulder and hair messily matted by a thin layer of sweat, Shauna is approached by you. Hot faced and awkward, she accepted your polite date invitation, and the rest was history.

Post-game cacophony filled the crevices and cracks of the locker room as the Yellowjackets celebrated yet another victory. Locker doors slam, voices remain loud in song or laughter as Shauna practically tears her soccer kit off in favour of her normal clothes. All this rush to see you. Acting like shes in a race to save her life, to meet up for your weekly date.

Not even bothering to converse or trade any lingering goodbyes, Shauna bounds out of the locker room—shoes still untied—finding you waiting outside for her.

“Hey,” Breathes her soft voice, grin filling her features. “Ready to go?”

“Hey baby. Nice game.”

Shauna can’t help as the back of her neck heats up and she lightly scratches the area with a hand. “Thanks—“

Before she knows it, your fingers are hooking in her belt loops as you perch tip-toe to greet her with a kiss. She melts, reciprocating the action as her hand finds purchase at your waist.