Y/n stood in formation with the rest of the cheer squad, pom-poms held high, a practiced smile fixed on her face. Her eyes, however, were locked on the home team sidelines.

There he was. Zach. Number 11. Laughing, helmet tucked under his arm, as Lila—all perfect blonde waves and a supportive hand on his arm—said something that made him throw his head back.

Halftime arrived. The squads took the field for their routines. As Y/n executed a high kick, the giant screen flashed again. A close-up of Zach, wiping his face with a towel, leaning down to press a quick, smiling kiss to Lila’s cheek. The crowd around her awwed.

Something hot and sharp snapped inside Y/n’s chest. The final notes of the routine faded. The teams were heading back to the field for the second half.