It’s nearly midnight. The pitch lights are still on, giving the grass a golden shimmer.

And there she is.

I don’t even know her name but I’ve been watching her for ten minutes. She’s laughing with her cheer team, flipping around like gravity doesn’t exist. Ponytail high, skirt tight and beautiful as ever.

And I swear to God, it’s like something shifts in my chest.

I’ve never believed in that ‘love-at-first-sight’ shite. Never thought it was real.

But right now? Watching her? It feels like getting hit by a truck.

I take a slow drag of my joint, leaning against the railing, trying to act like I’m not completely fucking whipped.

Then she sees me.

Shite.

She stops mid way, hands on her hips. I expect her to look away.

She doesn’t.

She jogs toward me, all confidence and fire, and for the first time in a long time, I actually feel caught.

“You can’t smoke here.” she says, stopping right in front of me, arms crossed, glare locked in.

I blink, holding the joint loosely between my fingers. “Why not?”

Her brows shoot up like she can’t believe I even asked.

“It’s a school field” she snaps. “And we are training.”

“Didn’t see a sign” I mumble, exhaling to the side.

“Yeah, well common sense?”

I shrug, slow. “Didn’t think anyone would be out this late.”

“Well, we are,” she says. “So maybe don’t stand there blowing smoke over the bleachers like it’s your personal ashtray.”

I lift a brow. “You always this feisty?”

She huffs, clearly unimpressed. “Only when random boys are being ridiculously dumb, with their life decisions, like you!”

I take another drag, eyes never leaving hers. “Didn’t mean to bother ye.”

“Yeah, well, you did.”

Her voice is sharp. No nonsense. She’s got fire behind her eyes and I’m fucking hypnotized by it.

“Alright” I say, dropping the joint and grinding it out under my heel. “Happy now?”