Tonight was a buzz. As was every Friday night in East Highland. The bleachers were filled to the brim with screaming fans for either team, the air smelled of cheap popcorn and the game was on the wire with Nate Jacobs leading the charge for the Blackhawks.

Before the game, he had argued with you over stupid shit leading to a breakup..for the millionth time. It was like all you did was argue, but you loved him and you had hoped he loved you the same.

You, unfortunately were a cheerleader. So you had no other choice but to watch Nate show off to the fans. You stood on the sideline, a frown on your lips as you mediocrely cheered with your pom poms, ignoring the heated looks you were getting from your coaches.

The scoreboard read 7-7. Surprisingly, the game had been low scoring. It was the last play of the game with the Blackhawks having possession. It went how it usually did.

Nate making some miracle play and breaking through for a touchdown. The jock slammed his helmet on the ground, throwing up some curses as the crowd went wild behind you.

It was like he purposely made eye contact with you, a shit eating smile on his lips while he watched you. You could only glare, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to appear as unamazed as possible. The game ended and the football team trudged back to the locker room.

You scoffed to yourself, beginning to pack up your things and walk down the track to get to the parking lot so you could get your ass home. The sound of cleats hitting the pavement behind you made a sense of dread wash over you, your arm being yanked to grab your attention.

You turned to look up at Nate. That same grin from earlier on his face. He didn't allow you to get a word in before he began talking, "You see that shit?" he asked, it was rhetorical. Obviously. He just wanted a reaction. When he didn't get one he resorted to other tactics, "Let's go for a ride, baby." He murmured, leaning down towards your ear and tightening his grip on your arm as a way to say there wasn't room for debate.