The rest of the day flew by in a blur of classes, homework, and whispers about the weekend's big football game. Stacy tuned it out, focusing on her tasks. Just as she finished her tutoring sessions, for some reason, Cole's smirk still lingered in her mind.
In history class, Stacy partnered with Lizzy for a group project. They huddled in the corner, flipping through notes on the Industrial Revolution.
"Stace, did you see the new memes about Alex?" Lizzy asked, giggling.
Stacy rolled her eyes. "Nope. Don't care."
Lizzy chuckled. "You'd be the only one."
The bell cut them off. Stacy gathered her stuff, careful to avoid the front of the room—where Cole was leaning against the teacher's desk, chatting with the coach.
Lizzy nudged her. "Hey, wanna walk to practice with me?"
Stacy nodded. As they stepped into the hall, Cole fell into step beside them.
"Hey, Stacy," he said, voice low.
Stacy didn't look up. "Cole."
Lizzy awkwardly excused herself. "Uh, I gotta grab something."
Cole matched Stacy's pace. "So… biology today. You're like, super into that stuff, huh?"
Stacy raised an eyebrow. "You're like, super observant, huh?"
Cole laughed. "Touché. I meant it as a compliment."
"Don't," Stacy said, stopping at her locker. "Just don't."
Cole leaned against the locker next to hers. "What, you can't handle a little attention?"
Stacy shot him a look. "I can't handle you talking to me."
"Just leave me alone!" she cut him off, slamming her locker shut.
She walked off, picking up her pace. Cole followed for a few steps, then stopped.
The halls cleared. Stacy turned a corner, disappearing into the crowd. She didn't look back—but she felt his gaze linger.
Practice ran late. By the time her dad picked her up, Stacy was already exhausted.
Later, in her room, she dumped her bag on the bed and stared at her homework without really seeing it. Numbers blurred. Words ran together. Her mind kept circling back to one thing—the way Cole had leaned against her locker, daring her without even trying.
Her phone buzzed.
Lizzy.
"Girl," Lizzy said the second Stacy answered, "what happened? Did he flirt with you? Come on, tell me everything."
Stacy groaned. "Lizzy… he's annoying. I don't even know why—"
"Ooooh, I knew it!" Lizzy cut in. "I knew he liked you."
"No, you didn't," Stacy said quickly, waving a hand. "Don't act like you did. And he doesn't… he doesn't like me."
Lizzy ignored that completely. "Stacy Hamilton. Miss 'I Don't Care.' And Cole Connor can't keep his eyes off you? I need details."
"Lizzy… seriously, I don't care," Stacy said, trying to sound bored. "I just need to get through this week."
"Maybe you can talk to him tomorrow after the big game," Lizzy said, teasing.
Stacy shook her head, smiling despite herself. Lizzy was persistent—but not wrong. Even if she tried to ignore it, part of her was still thinking about Cole.
Friday night arrived faster than Stacy expected.
The air buzzed with anticipation as the school parking lot filled with cars, laughter, and students cheering on their teams. Stadium lights cut through the darkening sky, turning the football field into a glowing stage.
Stacy walked toward the stands with Lizzy, taking in the noise, the colors, the energy.
"You ready?" Lizzy asked.
"For what?"
"For all of this," Lizzy said. "Friday night. Big game."
"Oh, please," Stacy said. "I don't really care about this game."
"Sure you don't," Lizzy said, with a teasing smile on her face.
They found seats halfway up the bleachers. The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers, calling out player names.
He basked under the stadium lights, every movement sharp and effortless. His helmet caught the glow as he jogged onto the field, shoulder pads shifting with each step. Stacy froze, unable to look away. There was something about the way he carried himself—confident, untouchable—that made her chest tighten.
She tried to shake it off. It's just football. That's all. Nothing to think about. But her eyes kept following him, tracing the curve of his jaw, the easy way he commanded the field, the way teammates glanced toward him, waiting for his next move.
Cole didn't even need to notice her—yet every time he did, her heart gave a little lurch. And tonight, under the harsh stadium lights, it felt like he was noticing her.
She quickly looked down at her hands, gripping the railing, telling herself she didn't care. She wasn't supposed to. It didn't mean anything. He was just another guy—nothing to think about. She repeated it like a mantra: It's nothing. Just a player. Just a game.
But as he pivoted on the field, throwing a precise pass that sent the crowd into a frenzy, Stacy felt a strange tug in her chest. A pull she didn't understand and didn't want to.
Her mind argued with itself. He's just good at football. He's just lucky. You're imagining things. Yet even as she tried to deny it, her gaze kept returning to him, drawn like gravity.
A cheer erupted from the stands, and Cole looked up, scanning the crowd. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, and something quiet passed between them—a nod, almost imperceptible, but deliberate. Stacy's stomach fluttered.
She looked away instantly, scolding herself. See? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But her heart refused to listen. She couldn't shake the way her chest had tightened, the way her hands itched to reach out, the way her thoughts kept orbiting him, unbidden and insistent.
By the time halftime whistle blew, Stacy's notebook of excuses and defenses had crumpled in her mind. She stood, needing air, needing distance, needing to make sense of this strange pull. Even the cool night couldn't erase the heat of her thoughts.
There was just something about him.
She wanted to go home. She didn't want to stay any longer. The tension she felt—the pull, the awareness of him—was too much.
"Stacy, wait! What's wrong?" Lizzy asked, tugging at her sleeve. "Come on, don't leave!"
"I… I just have a lot of work to do," Stacy mumbled, giving a small, apologetic smile. She turned and slipped away before Lizzy could protest.
By the time she got home, she dumped her bag on the bed and tried to focus on her homework, forcing herself to think about anything other than Cole. Numbers and words blurred together as her mind kept circling back to him. She read and reread pages, making herself believe she could forget what had happened.
Her phone buzzed.
It was Lizzy.
"Hey! We won!" Lizzy's voice was bright, triumphant. "Are you okay? You just… disappeared."
Stacy let out a slow breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."
"Uh-huh," Lizzy said, unconvinced, but the warmth in her voice made Stacy smile faintly. "We'll talk tomorrow. Just… don't let him mess with your head too much."
Stacy hung up, setting the phone aside. She tried to bury herself in homework again, but she knew—no matter how hard she tried—Cole Connor had already made an impression she couldn't shake.
Why is he even on my mind? He's ridiculous. I better not be falling for that idiot, she told herself.