Chapter 11: The Pep Rally

On Friday night the stands were full, and the stage on the fifty-yard line had a microphone on a stand.

Thousands of people in orange and black had come to cheer for Homecoming.

The marching band played, and the cheerleaders threw a girl into the air.

I waited behind the stage curtain with my hands in my pockets.

I could see the front row from where I stood.

Lacey sat in the middle of it in a white sweater with a pumpkin on it, holding a cup of cider.

Lance sat beside her in his game jersey, with his arm along the back of her seat.

She had not looked behind her once.

Dane came to stand beside me, in his black jersey with the number 14.

He did not say anything for a minute.

"Cord's plugged," he said at last. "Nobody's touching it except Rory."

I looked across the field.

Rory stood at the sound board with a headset around his neck, and he raised both thumbs at me.

"I'm scared," I said.

It was the first time I had said it aloud to anyone.

"You should be," Dane said. "It's a big microphone."

I laughed, a short startled sound, and my chest unlocked.

"Barron."

"Yes?"

"You don't have to be good at it," he said. "You just have to say it."

The band stopped.

Dane walked out onto the stage, and the whole stadium got quiet, because he was the one who never spoke.

He stood at the microphone with his hands loose at his sides.

"Our student speaker this year," he said, "is Anneliese Barron."

It was the first time I had ever heard him say my name to anyone but me.

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