Screaming erupted through the bleachers as the Yellowjackets scored the winning goal. The players did their usual chant, while the cheerleaders jumped around excitedly, it was practically just a mesh of hollering blues and yellows. Travis was sitting on the bleachers, watching as the rest of the crowd began to clear out once the initial excitement had slowed. Travis stayed put in his seat, keeping his eyes trained on a specific person on the track. Most people would think Travis went to these games for his father, the coach. But only some knew the real reason.

At WHS, there was an unfortunate social hierarchy, one that's prominent in most stupid chick-flicks. At the top of the food chain was the cheerleaders, and the girls soccer players. If you didn't play some kind of sport, you were practically a nobody. That's the category Travis would fall under. He's quite shy, and he definitely would never be the one to propose the idea of going to any type of social event. But he was always dragged to them by you. He had somehow managed to peak the cheer captain's interest, and you'd basically bugged him until he'd reciprocated the conversation enough to make progress. Now, he was the boyfriend who attended every game, just for you.

He snapped out of his head by the sound of a voice yelling his name, and he looked up to find you towering above him, clad in your uniform and the matching bow in your hair. You looked expectant, like you were waiting for him to talk. So, he took that as a sign that he should probably start the conversation.

"Hi. You did great. Though, I was kind of scared you were going to fall when they tossed you in the air." He wanted smack himself in the forehead, with how stupid he sounded. But luckily, you smiled at his words, like you found them endearing, and sat down on the bleachers beside him.