it’s like clockwork — after the game, indigo knows what excuse to give, and how to convincingly say goodbye to her friends. she knows where to walk to, where to stand, where to wait. tonight is no different. after thunderous applause and cheering from the home crowd after the team’s big win, indigo’s made her way to a spot under the field’s tallest bleachers. she’s been waiting for half an hour now, thumbs hooked into the straps of her backpack, back pressed against one of the large metal poles that keep the structure upright. her hand finally moves, and reaches over to her wrist, brushing the sleeve of her jacket away to catch a glimpse of the time on her watch. a small voice in the back of her minds whispers that he’s seven minutes late, that he might not even come, that maybe she’s just waiting on nothing. as she acknowledges just how paranoid she’s being, she mentally kicks herself. god, she doesn’t do this. not since bailey. no, since bailey, she’s been locked into a routine. a routine that has kept her falling into the mouths of nameless, faceless boys and men in dark corners, staircases, offices, on the outskirts of fields, in driveways or even back yards. but somehow, all that seems obsolete now, and she can’t help but be focused on a single individual. she’s also caught herself staring in the halls, getting jealous when someone else talks to him, and all of the other behaviours she knows to chalk up to none other than a budding attraction. a crush, if you will.
all of the tension in her body seems to release when she finally recognises his figure, approaching, letterman jacket in hand. a few weeks ago, despite her own affiliation to the school volleyball team, she couldn’t get herself to do anything but mock the jocks, with their jackets, loud testosterone-filled greetings and heavy intake of protein at all hours of the day. but now, a part of her — which, again, she despises — almost wishes she hadn’t brought a jacket, just to wear his. “ hi, ” she whispers, moving one of her hands from the straps ofher bag to his chest, her fingertips ghosting over the material of his shirt, gaze not daring to deviate from his. for a second, she almost lets her confident façade slip, letting the other in on just how she feels in his presence. if she had to describe it verbally, the easiest image would be to equate herself to an addict. an addict in need of a fix entirely ensconced in his being. but, she manages to save face, her bottom lip teasingly disappearing between her teeth, “ you looked good out there tonight, hart. some might even say you’re the crown jewel of that team. — and congratulations on winning. nice added bonus. ”
from the second jagger hart stepped through the halls of his high school his freshman year, he could almost immediately tell that this was a place he didn’t belong. well, not unless he made himself. there was somewhat of a legacy he felt inclined to follow. his older brother, bowie, had left quite the imprint on good ol’ stone harbor high. captain of nearly every sports team, and popular among the school’s female population, it was hard not to associate the two brothers once a young jagger stepped into the halls. though he did intend on playing sports, he was almost immediately accepted into the stereotypical “jock” friend groups, a judgement that seemed based solely on his last name. at first, he didn’t mind it. immediately being accepted into a group didn’t seem entirely bad. it isn’t until he realized that the other guys on his football team weren’t the kind of people he’d normally associate himself with. but as any teen does, he succumbed to the pressures to be popular.
jagger was always described as a bleeding heart. he loves fast and hard and if anyone else knew that, his rep would soon be diminished. so, he’d keep his soft tendencies to himself. or rather, locked away until the right person came along. he hadn’t built up any hopes to meet her anytime soon, as all the girls who approached him seemingly only wanted him for one thing. status. this made him picky with who he’d take home. even then, he’d find himself face to face with yet another shallow cheerleader. but the girl with the blonde hair and deep brown eyes, she was different. and not in the cheesy way that you see films and books describe this whirlwind of a girl. she was unique, charming, and quick-witted. he often found himself stumbling over words when he was around her. she tugged him upstairs to smoke with him in the bathroom, and ultimately changed his life.
from there on in, the two were inseparable. well, no one but them had any clue to that fact. they did a pretty decent job keeping their relationship (or whatever you can call all the sneaking around they were doing) under wraps. it started with hooking up in random rooms at high school parties, to hooking up in his car parked somewhere secluded, to nights like this where they’d meet under the bleachers after a big game. though he didn’t dare share this information with indigo, he was really starting to feel something. what it was - that part was unclear to him, though he knew that she was so much more than just another social ladder climbing girl. aside from the physical aspects of their relationship, she was possibly the easiest person for jagger to talk to. she didn’t expect anything of him. with others it was the good looks, the athleticism, the jock-like attitude. around her, he didn’t feel like he had to live up to any kind of expectation. he could just be.
when he spots her beneath the bleachers, he cannot hold back the goofy grin that’s forming to his lips. the entire game, he couldn’t help but steal glances in her direction. he only hoped none of the friends she’d been with had noticed. he’s got his hands tucked in the pockets of his letterman, using the grip to hug the fabric close to his frame. “hey you,” the words are spoken at a low tone as if their conversation is meant to be a secret shared between them. “sorry i took longer than usual, the guys were bullshitting about the win and it was kind hard to slip away. i’m glad you waited, though.” i really wanted to see you. the sentiment dances on the tip of his tongue but isn’t put into words. not yet, at least. just being in her proximity has the athlete’s mind racing. “thank you, indi.” he cocks his head, a grin still plastered to his features. “i’m glad you think that. otherwise my reign as captain would be obsolete.” there’s teasing in the male’s tone as he’s giving into the touch against his chest, quickly closing the gap between their frames to meet her lips in a tender, but needy kiss.
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