Ruthless knight

Sawyer

Nerves gnaw at my stomach as I—make that, Izzy—walks down the hallway. 

I’m supposed to go out onto the field with the cheerleaders, but since they’re in the locker room, and expect me to be a ninth grade boy under this getup, it’s off limits. 

I crane my neck as I round the corner, hoping I don’t bump into anyone. Oakley’s measurements were definitely off, because I’m about five inches too short to see out of this stupid thing. Fortunately, the toothy grin plastered on Izzy’s face is made out of mesh material, so I’ve been peering through that. 

Scott told Oakley he wasn’t supposed to speak or do anything to give away his identity while in uniform—which is fine by me because everyone at this school already makes fun of me enough. 

I’m about to walk into the library to kill some time before the game when a deep voice shouts my name. 

Well, not my name. Izzy’s. 

Squinting, I try my best to see who the voice belongs to, but to my horror, I spot a group of guys in Knights jerseys. 

Crap. 

I back up, but it’s too late. The football players start cheering Izzy’s name in unison. 

“Izzy, Izzy, Izzy!!”

Right before they start ru

Fuck. My. Life. 

I hold on to my fake head for dear life as two thick arms wrap around my waist and I’m hoisted off the ground. 

“Damn, boy,” someone who sounds a lot like Dwight says. “You been hitting the gym?” 

Clearly.

 “Yeah, buddy,” someone else calls out as they stand next to Dwight and I’m set up on their shoulders. “He’s been working on those gains.”

“You ready to watch us crush the Bears tonight, Iz?” another person shouts as they proceed to march down the hallway. 

I’m pretty sure it’s Le

Since I’m supposed to be full of school spirit, I reach down and give him a high-five.  

That only riles the group up more and the two idiots holding me bounce me up and down on their shoulders. 

“Izzy! Izzy!”

Dear God, make it stop. 

A groan of irritation lodges in my throat as we crash through the doors of the boys’ locker room. 

It’s the last place I want to be. Bad shit happens here. 

Like Cole…

My brain temporarily checks out when I spot him by his locker. 

He’s wearing silver skintight pants that showcase his round, muscular ass, and the top half of him is completely bare. 

I’m suddenly grateful for the fake head I’m wearing because my jaw falls open as I take in his lean, cut frame complete with six-pack abs. 

And his sharp V. 

Dear God in Heaven that V of his is what the angels sing about. 

He’s so gorgeous it almost physically aches to look at him. 

“You okay, Izzy?” someone asks. 

Izzy is fine…Sawyer, on the other hand. 

She’s screwed. 

“Put Izzy down,” Cole barks as he puts on a shirt and maneuvers into some plastic shell looking thing. “It’s time to get ready and focus.”

I’m grateful when they all do what he says…until some of them begin stripping. 

My cheeks heat as I get an eye-full of penis. 

Different sizes, different colors, different shapes.  

For a girl who’s only seen one in real life…it’s overwhelming. 

And underwhelming depending which way I look. 

On the bright side, I can officially answer Bianca’s question regarding Le

Dude is hung like a fucking horse. 

Well, compared to everyone else who’s currently naked. Especially Cortland.

No wonder he’s so miserable. Cole was right about him having a pencil dick. 

Having seen more than my fill, I slowly tiptoe out of the locker room. 

I take a cleansing breath to ease my anxiety as I trudge down the hallway. 

It works…until I spot pom-poms. 

“Hey, Izzy!!” a few cheerleaders call out. 

I say a silent prayer that they don’t try to lift me on their shoulders too, because it won’t end well. 

Cha

Which of course, makes them walk over to me. 

“You okay, little man?” someone—I think Caitlyn—asks with a pout. “Morgan told us you weren’t feeling well.” 

I give her a nod because it’s all I can do.

“Aw, well, you just let us know if you need anything, okay?”

Another nod. 

She and another girl scamper down the hall. “Don’t forget. Casey wants everyone out there in five.” 

Casey. Just the person I want to take orders from. 

I’m pretty sure the night can’t get any worse. 

“Don’t worry,” Morgan whispers. “I haven’t forgotten about the thank you sex I owe you after the game.” 

What the hell?

I stifle a yelp when she pinches my ass. 

Disgust rolls through me…until I remember she thinks I’m Oakley. 

Evidently, she’s terrible with measurements too.

She goes to pinch me again, but I wag my finger at her, indicating I’m off limits. 

Giggling, she comes closer. “You know I love it when you play hard to get, baby.” 

Oh, hell. 

“Gross,” Bianca snarls. “Isn’t that your brother?” 

Morgan jumps back like she’s been burned. “Mind your business, bitch.” Flipping her hair, she struts past her. “Your days are numbered, loser.”

When she’s out of eyesight, Bianca whispers, “Sorry to break it to you, Izzy, but your sister’s a mega cunt.”  

I give her a thumbs up. 

Just like the first three-quarters of the game, I can’t see squat. 

Apparently, the mascot hangs with the cheerleaders on the sidelines during all the fun stuff. 

Along with a lot of other people.

People blocking me from seeing Cole. 

I can hear everyone cheering for him though, and I know the Knights are ahead of the Bears by sixteen points. Which is awesome considering there are only two more minutes in the game. 

I just wish I could have seen him throw a touchdown. 

Because when he does? It’s a thing of beauty. 

He throws with such precision it takes my breath away. 

Reel it in, Sawyer. Your fangirl is starting to show.  

I can’t help it though, Cole off the field is a ruthless asshole. 

But the Cole on the field is such a skilled and smart player it’s impossible not to notice him.  

He was born for this. 

The crowd cheers and people in the stands begin stomping their feet.

“Lucky Seven!!” 

I can’t help but smile. Cole threw another touchdown. 

People start jumping up and down and I’m able to make out bits and pieces of him through the sea of bodies in front of me.  

He steals my breath. He illuminates, he…

“Let’s go, Izzy,” Casey barks. 

Fuck a duck. 

I’m pretty sure Cole just threw the last touchdown of the game, which means we’re on deck. 

The only problem? 

Izzy usually dances after we win…and I don’t dance…ever.  

I’m going to kill Oakley. 

The cheerleaders take their positions and proceed to shake and shimmy their little hearts out. 

Casey does her big flip—which even I’ll admit is impressive—and then motions for me to join them. 

Here goes nothing. 

Placing my hand behind my head and extending my arm out in front of me, I proceed to do the only dance move I’m good at. 

The sprinkler. 

I’m expecting everyone to boo and throw things but to my surprise, they all cheer. Some people even start mimicking me.