#kayleebryant

The girl is really pretty. Hope supposes it’s pretty much a given since she’s a cheerleader but still.

Her chocolate brown hair is pulled up in a neat but wavy ponytail on the top of her head, flowing down on a muscular back. Her sleeveless, short skirted uniform shows off super smooth looking skin and her legs are going on for miles and –

She needs to calm down.

It’s not like she didn’t know cheerleading was a thing. She’s more of an artsy type of person not so much of a sports fan but come on…who doesn’t know about cheerleaders?

She just wasn’t paying that much attention.

Well, until now.

She tries really hard to focus on the game but her eyes drip down to the waving pom-poms and perfectly executed splits that the cheerleaders try to encourage the players with when the enemy keeps scoring points. More specifically at the pretty brunette who Hope swears keep glancing back at her and smiling.

Half-time rolls around faster than Hope thought and the cheerleaders run enthusiastically to the middle of the field to get in position. Hope bits her bottom lip to keep her jaw from visibly dropping to the floor as the music starts and the girls starts to dance.

They are...really good. In a totally professional way.

Hope honestly can’t take her eyes of off the brunette, who dances in the back row to the left. She moves effortlessly, letting the music guide her body through the choreography perfectly in synch with the rest of the squad.

Their eyes meet for a moment and the brunette subtly throws her a wink.

Hope doesn’t think she’s breathing until the music starts to fade away slowly and the cheerleaders take their usual place on the sidelines. They cheer when the boys’ jog back from the bench and the game starts again.

The rest of the match is a blur that consists of chestnut brown eyes and twirling blue and yellow short skirts. She’s vaguely aware of the final whistle ringing out signaling the end of the match and Hope glances at the scoreboard and winces.

The Salvatore Stallions have lost again miserably.

Hope tries to smile and claps loudly as the boys leave the field to change but MG doesn’t look up from the ground and quickly disappears with his team. As soon as he’s out of sight, Hope sighs sadly and settles down on the bench to wait for him. Maybe she could buy him pizza to cheer him up.

“Hey.”

Snapping her head up from her lap, Hope’s eyes widen in surprise when she sees the brunette cheerleader - the one Hope’s been checking out and quickly starting to develop a crush on - leaning on her folded arms on the railing that separates the seats from the field, mouth stretched into an easy smile as she holds her pom-poms in her hands casually.

Hope’s mouth gapes for an embarrassingly long moment before she slaps it shut. She’s desperately trying to find something to say back but her brain doesn’t seem to function.

“I haven’t seen you around here before.” The girl fortunately fills the silence, “Do you know somebody on the team?”

“My friend MG, um number 12,” Hope squeaks out unable to look away from the doe brown eyes, “He’s the quarterback.”

The girl bits her bottom lip to hide her amused smile, “You mean the striker?”  

Hope’s eyes squints, “I don’t know,” She draws out the words, “I’m not the biggest sports fan. I don’t really know much about soccer.”

The girl shrugs, “I haven’t either before I became a cheerleader. It’s actually fun, though,” She tilts her head to the side with a sly grin, “Maybe you can learn a thing or two when you come next time.”

“Next time?”

The girl lifts one eyebrow, a sultry look slipping on her face, “Yeah so I could see you again.”

Hope’s cheek flush at the flirtatious tone and opens her mouth to say back something but the girl names gets called by one of her teammates.

“Josie!”

Josie.

The brunette turns back to Hope to send her one lasting smile before she jogs back to her team, feeling Hope’s eyes on her the whole way.

Hope takes a second for the butterflies to settle in her stomach before she lets out a disbelieving chuckle.

It’s safe to say, Hope goes to the next game.