Disclaimer: The following is a prequel to Choices The Freshman and The Sophomore stories. It is a fictional adaptation. I do not work for Pixelberry Studios, the game developer or own the rights to the characters Chris Powell, Jo, Kyle or Nicole. All of the characters, story line and events were originally developed by me, some areas in part with @maxattack-powell, in conjuction to her adaptation of The Freshman.
CHAPTER 1: Cherryfield High
It’s a perfect night for football. A gentle breeze barely disturbs the flags at the top of the pole near the end zone. The scent of freshly cut grass wafts lightly under the noses of the teenagers making their way into the stadium. It’s a balmy evening in late September, temperatures in the low 70’s and will remain so for most of the night. These pleasant evenings won’t last long before the bone-chilling cold of a Maine Fall takes its grip on their little town.
Dropping her megaphone and her pompoms down on the race track, a young brunette turns and scans the football field. She puts a hand up to her brow, shielding her blue eyes from the sun as she surveys the players warming up. Her long, tediously curled and sprayed brown locks are half pulled up into a large bow behind her head. She spots the target of her search near the 50-yard line. Flat-footed, he launches the ball to his longtime friend in the end zone. He is wearing his football pants and cleats, no pads just yet, gloves and a sleeveless shirt. She admires his biceps and strong forearms. His brown hair, lightly bleached on top by the sun is ruffled over his head, damp with sweat and framing his face. Her chest swells with pride when she looks at him. He is hers and devotedly so.
As the ball sails back to him, he jogs to make a one-handed catch. After grasping the ball, he turns and glances at the sideline. He sees her and smiles. She gives him a tiny wave with her fingers and he gives a bright smile and a head nod acknowledging her. He never gets enough of seeing her in her cheerleading outfit. The short skirt and her toned legs do him in every Friday at the pep rally as he watches her fire up the school on his team’s behalf. His only chance to do something about those feelings never presents itself until Saturday nights. Friday nights he belongs to his team and the school he represents.
She does not go over to speak to him. His time before the game is his to prepare mentally. It’s an hour and a half till kickoff and she knows he uses that time to visualize his performance on the field. After a week of watching film, looking at the opponents defensive schemes and running drills in practice, it’s time to put the preparation to the test.
“Hey Nichole,” a voice pulls her attention away from her quarterback boyfriend.
“Hey girl,” she turns and greets her best friend since 6th grade, Morgan. Morgan is a striking girl, whether she is wearing make-up or not. Her olive skin, high cheek bones, bright eyes and pouty pink lips give her an exotic look. Her lean body and long legs make for some award-winning high kicks. Nichole has always been slightly jealous, whether she admits it to herself or not, of her best friend’s beauty.
Captain of the Cherryfield High Dance team, Morgan is dressed in her pep outfit. She tosses her poms against the fence in front of the bleachers. The two best friends each were selected as captains for their squads for senior year, Nichole leading the cheerleaders. It seemed fitting that she had been in a three year relationship with the captain of the football team, Chris Powell.
“Let’s go get the sign,” Morgan says. As Nichole falls in place next to her, the two head towards the field house where the giant sign the team will run through before kickoff is rolled up and stored away.
As they walk towards the storage area, a door swings open. The school’s running back, Ryan Hawkins, exits from the Cherryfield Clippers locker room. His cleats make a tapping noise as he moves over the pavement towards the field. His t-shirt is cut in half, revealing rows or rippling ab muscles.
“’Sup Nichole,” He head nods and glances to the companion next to her, a smirk creeps over his lips. “Hey Morgan, how you doing?” He makes no effort to hide the obvious scan of her body in her pep outfit.
“Hey Ryan,” She sighs. It only makes his lips stretch into a full, toothy smile. He laughs a little and keeps moving towards the field. Ryan is handsome in every sense of that description. He is not as tall as his best friends on his team, his build shorter and bit stockier but he is solid muscle. His messy black hair, long-lashes, classic baby blues and full lips make him a teenage dream. He wears a scar just above one eye, a permanent reminder of a fall out of a friend’s treehouse in the 4th grade, that leaves a patch of hair missing from his eyebrow, something attractive and dangerous about the marking.
“Have a good game, Ryan,” Nichole encourages.
“As long as your boyfriend hands me the ball, I will,” he jokes over his shoulder.
Nichole looks at Morgan, arching an eyebrow and laughs. “He’s still after you, huh?”
“Ugh, who isn’t he after?” Morgan rolls her eyes. Nichole laughs.
“Yeah but you two-“
“Look, I know you think it’d be cute if we date best friends, but, Ryan isn’t my type. He’s…just so Ryan,” She shrugs.
“What does that mean?” Nichole laughs.
“You know what I’m talking about! He’s so out there and everything he does has to be this big thing or draw attention to him! He’s all about being seen. I’d rather be with someone a lot more humble and chill than that.”
The two open the door to the storage closet. They bend down and together lift the massive sign, Nichole carrying one end, Morgan the other. Morgan kicks the door closed behind them as they carry the sign towards the end zone.
“I get what you are saying. It’s like with Chris,” Nichole says. Morgan falls silent as her friend continues. “I mean look at him, damn. But he’s always just so sweet and wants to do things for me. It’s never just all about him.” Nichole’s words become a little labored as the weight of the sign and effort to carry it begin to shorten her breaths. They finally drop it at the end of the end zone. Nichole takes a deep breath, Morgan the same as she puts her hands on her hips. She reflects on her friends words.
“Yeah…you’re lucky,” Morgan says somewhat softly.
“I guess so. I mean, yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Nichole says her mind clearly somewhere else.
“Uh oh, what’s up?” Morgan eyes her cautiously. She steps closer so that Nichole won’t have to speak so loud and others would hear.
“Nothing. I love Chris,” Nichole shrugs.
Morgan studies her best friend. They’ve been like sisters since they were paired together for a biology project in Mrs. Gardner’s class at Cherryfield Middle School. Sleepovers, church on Sunday’s together, dance and gymnastics classes together, Morgan knows Nichole well. So she knows immediately when she’s not saying what’s really in her heart.
“Nikki?” Morgan questions. Morgan is the only person outside of Chris and her family to use the nickname.
Nichole let’s out a long sigh. “It’s just… I’m thinking a lot about next year. Chris has one scholarship offer and it’s to Hartfeld. I really do want to go to UCLA, it’s been my dream. Living in LA…the parties…” She sighs. “I don’t know what I’m saying really. I guess I just wonder if we would be able to survive the distance if I do get in there. Even if we could, do I really want to still be with my high school boyfriend in college? I mean, I told him I’d go to Hartfeld too, but, it’s not really what I want.” Nichole doesn’t make eye contact. She drags the tip of her shoe over the blades of grass on the field.
Morgan stares at her. “Yeah, but it’s Chris. He’s….” She trails off and bites her lip.
“He’s what?”
“He’s kind of a forever guy, ya know? I mean, someone for the long haul,” Morgan says hesitantly. “From what I see, I mean. He’s, ya know, crazy about you.” She grips the sides of her skirt to stop her fidgeting hands.
Nichole nods. “That’s what my parents say too,” she exhales slowly.
Morgan looks over to the center of the field. Chris is standing behind the team’s center, Alex, and mimics calling a play. He takes the snap, jogs left and hands the ball off to Ryan who sprints to the end zone. Once there, Ryan begins to do the Chicken Noodle Soup dance and pretend the crowd is shouting his name. Chris laughs at his friend, shaking his head.
“You see what I mean about Ryan?” Morgan adds.
Nichole laughs. “Come on, let’s go get the coolers for drinks.”
***
The halogen glow of stadium lights illuminates the field. The cadence of the drumline starts the band off as the Clippers take to the field.
Chris will lead his team as the first to burst through the sign as they rush to the field, the packed crowd in the stands cheering at a deafening roar. Just a stride behind Chris is Ryan and his other close friend, Ethan, the team’s fullback. Nichole is standing on the shoulders of another cheerleader, helping to hold up one side the sign as the team shreds through it. Chris’s eyes lift to connect with hers just before he breaks through, giving her his customary wink before taking the field.
In helmets and pads, they let the sounds of the home crowd fuel them as they make their way to the sideline. Chris, Ethan and Ryan depart from the others to represent the Clippers in the coin toss.
Morgan high kicks and spins performing the dance team’s routine to the fight song and cheering in unison with the cheerleaders.
In the stands, a tall dark haired girl claps along to the music and chants “Go Clippers Go!” with the crowd. She watches number 22, Ethan Clark. He joins hands with Chris and Ryan as they head to the middle of the field with the ref and team captains from tonight’s opponent the Milbridge Mariners.
Ethan is tall and lean and either blessed or cursed with a head full of dark red hair. His features make him look a little more mature than his friends. His smile is shy when you actually get the chance to see it. He always seems to be in intense focus. Even now, joined hands with Chris and his best friends, his brow is furrowed.
It wasn’t until last year, their junior year, that Maya began to notice how she felt when she was around Ethan. He had a calming effect on their crew. Ryan, was so over the top he had enough energy for all of them. Chris and Nichole were at times hormonal and not much for conversation as they were often occupied when together. Things had seemed to calm down between them though as of recent. Morgan had a sheepish, almost quiet quality about her personality that only Nichole could seem to get her to break out of. Maya, was the local pageant queen. She was crowned Ms. Cherryfield at the Washington County Fair in August. Of biracial ethnicity, her smile is large and bright and her raven black hair, thick and full. It’s curly tonight for the game and in a high ponytail. No point in fighting the humidity with products just to watch football.
After the opening kick, Chris jogs from the sideline to 20-yard line. Ryan, Ethan and Alex follow, moving into position.
Chris’s peaceful nature and light-hearted demeanor fades away as he scans the defense from the line of scrimmage, barks out an audible, claps, and takes the snap.
***
Cars line up the street in front of Nichole’s home. Friday night’s after a home game, it’s the place to be for their crew, especially after a victory. The Cherryfield Clippers had thumped Milbridge 56-27. Chris threw for 2 TD’s, rushed for 1, Ryan rushed for two, and Ethan contributed another 2 in the beatdown.
Maya parks in the driveway, not caring if she’s blocking anyone in. She checks her hair, makeup and teeth for popcorn from the game in the rearview mirror. She reapplies some lipstick and blots before deeming her appearance acceptable and stepping out of the car.
The front door is unlocked as she enters. She moves down the entry hall and descends a set of stairs to the basement, their gathering spot. Nichole’s parents are at home so Friday night’s never get too wild, but the grown-ups allow the youngsters the chance for some privacy and fun without their hovering eyes.
She opens the basement door and is met by several sets of eyes watching her come down the steps. A beat thumps from the stereo at a moderate volume.
“Hey!” Nichole says. “Wasn’t sure if you were still coming.”
“I thought I’d make an appearance, you know,” Maya winks as she looks around the softly lit room. A couple of seniors from the cheer squad are there and a few other senior players but it’s still mainly just the usual suspects.
Ethan is in an old recliner, leaning back with a bottle of water in his hand. He looks like he’s three minutes from falling asleep. He is wearing a pair of Cherryfield athletic sweats and a blue t-shirt, making his red hair look even brighter. She smiles at him but she’s not sure if he even notices, his eyes half shut.
Ryan is fiddling with his phone, connected to a speaker on top of an old table, scrolling through music. He looks over at Maya and winks. There is history there.
“Hey you,” she greets with a smirk.
“Ms. Cherryfield, always a pleasure,” he teases.
She walks past him and playfully hits him on the back. He bobs his head to the tune he’s selected, before glancing at her rear profile..
She looks to Chris seated on the sofa. He takes a swig from his water bottle and holds it up to her. “Sup?” he grins. She glances back over to his girlfriend. Nichole has changed out of her cheer uniform and into a t-shirt and shorts and is chatting by a support beam with the other girls from the squad.
Morgan sits on the opposite end of the sofa quietly, taking in the sights around her. Maya thinks she’s a bit of a stick in the mud who never looks comfortable. Her thoughts are interrupted when Ryan walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her. She laughs a little and leans back against his broad chest. Chris grins at them. In Ryan’s embrace, Maya glances at Ethan but his head is leaned back against the chair and his eyes are closed.
“Ouch, what is that?” Maya asks pointing to a bright red mark on Chris’s inner elbow. His arm sits on the arm rest of the sofa and the violent looking red patch is hard not to notice.
“Battle wounds, battle wounds,” he grins.
“Every week, it’s something. A dislocated finger, a cleat indention in his calf….a massive scrape on his arm,” Nichole grumbles. Chris laughs out amused.
“There was a time when I would come home from a game hurt and this one over here,” he says pointing to Nichole, “couldn’t wait to play nurse and fix me up. That was sophomore and junior year. This year, nope. We’ve become like an old married couple I guess,” Chris jokes.
“Oh you are fine!” Nichole says and leans against the support beam.
Her exclaimation jostles Ethan back to life, he jerks and sits up quickly. Maya looks at him, easing out of Ryan’s embrace “Hey….” She smiles at him.
“Hi,” he bashfully responds. He rubs at his cheek, then his eyes, he covers his mouth as he yawns.
“Tired?” she giggles.
“Yeah, I’m usually amped after a game, but tonight, I just feel drained,” Ethan says shaking his head and rolling his shoulders. He takes a sip from his bottled water and Maya watches his lips press against the plastic.
“Well, you had a great game, played hard. That was a great win tonight! You all played great,” She nods. “But Chris, you better get that thing looked at. It could get infected.”
“Did you get the trainer to look at it before you left?” Ethan asks him, voice thick with sleepiness.
“Nah, it wasn’t this red before. Maybe I should put something on it,” Chris says examining it. He looks over to Nichole who locks eyes with his.
“I’m going to get some more soda and chips, I’ll be back,” she declares before heading upstairs.
Chris shakes his head some as his eyes follow her.
“I can show you where the first aid stuff is in the bathroom,” Morgan finally utters a sentence for the first time since they got there it seems.
“Cool,” Chris says hopping up. “Lead the way.”
She moves past Maya and Ryan silently, Chris in tow.
“I think I might have some bumps and bruises I need your help with later Morgan,” Ryan exclaims. The others laugh.
“Good, maybe you’ll get tetanus,” She whips back at him.
Ryan throws his hands up in defeat. “Females!”
Morgan and Chris make it to the top of the stairs, she looks for Nichole and can hear bowls and the sounds of rustling coming from the kitchen. She looks to Chris, half expecting him to go in and talk to Nichole but instead he looks at her expectantly.
“This way,” she says leading him to one of the guest bedrooms. She opens the door, moves around a bed and then opens another door to a bathroom. She flips on the light bends down to rummage through the cabinet under the sink. She’s spent almost as much time at Nichole’s home as her own since she was 12. The house and its contents are like second nature.
Chris leans on the door frame of the bathroom. “Has Nichole said anything to you lately about us?” Chris asks slowly.
Morgan freezes, and unnoticed by Chris, gulps. She thinks quickly and lets out a laugh. “Chris, all she does is talk about you.”
He smiles somewhat comforted by her words. “Well, it’s just the past week or so, she’s seemed kind of edgy and distant.”
Morgan moves a few things out of the way and then pulls the first aid kit out from under the sink. She closes the cabinet doors and then flips open the lid on the white container.
“You know how Nikki can get sometimes, you guys will be fine….” Morgan says. The contents of that first aid kit suddenly are the most important thing in the world to her as she refuses to make eye contact with him.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he huffs.
She opens a packet with an antiseptic wipe inside of it. She carefully unfolds the wet material.
“Um….” She bites her lip unsure if she should. “Hold out your arm.”
Chris extends his arm, wincing a bit as the skin of the scraped area stretches. “Guess it is a little worse than I thought,” he says looking at it.
“This is gonna sting like hell,” she looks up at him for just a split second then down again. Before he has time to process her words, she quickly presses the cloth over the spot and wipes gently.
A hiss escapes Chris’s clinched teeth as he winces. She sees his bicep clinch in response, a vein showing underneath his skin.
“I’m sorry,” she says gently. She dabs around the spot, trying not to press to hard. He grunts again as the burning sensation returns.
She removes the cloth and as she’s done so many times with her little brother, presses her lips together and gently blows a cool stream of air over the spot to soothe it. It tickles Chris’s skin ever so slightly and he feels goose bumps forming.
“Better?” she lifts her eyes to his.
“Yeah,” he nods watching her.
She returns to the kit and pulls out an ointment. “This will keep it from getting infected and it also has some pain reliever in it,” she says. She dabs some onto two fingers and gently presses it to his arm, rubbing so softly that if he wasn’t watching her he wouldn’t know she was even touching him.
“Maybe, maybe she’s just anxious about all this senior year stuff,” Chris says suddenly.
“Huh?” Morgan asks frowning, her head jerking up to look at him. “Oh. You mean Nichole,” she registers. “Yeah, probably.” She nods quickly and drops her eyes back down.
She again grabs one more item from the kit, a bandaid to put over the spot. She peels back the tape and places it over Chris’s wound, pressing carefully around the edges to make sure it’s secure.
“Hey, thanks Morgan!” Chris smiles. “You’d make a great doctor someday.”
She laughs blushing slightly. “Not really, I just have a dare devil for a kid brother and I’m always trying to repair his injuries before he gets in trouble with my mom,” she chuckles.
“He’s in my little brother’s class this year too, right?” Chris asks.
“Yeah, he mentioned it. He was so excited to become friends with your brother. He looks up to you,” Morgan smiles brightly at him. She realizes just how big her smile must be and then clears her throat and looks back down.
“Maybe he can come over and stay with my brother some time? We can toss the ball around,” Chris offers.
“He’d love that, thanks Chris,” she says slowly, still not making eye contact.
“Well, thanks again,” Chris repeats. He smiles at her and then disappears through the bedroom.
Morgan leans against the sink and looks up at herself in the mirror. She lets out a huff and shakes her head. She grabs the items left over from her work and tosses the trash away, putting the first aid kit back under the sink.
She exits the room, turning off the lights and closing the door. When she turns to head back down to the basement, she hears laughter from the kitchen that makes her walk to the doorway.
Chris is standing with his arms wrapped tightly around Nichole, his lips pressed against hers hungrily. Nichole runs her hands up his chest and laughs against his lips.
Morgan turns away and heads back down to her spot on the sofa.
***
Three weeks later, Nichole parks her car in the driveway making it home from school after cheer practice. Chris was still out on the practice field when she walked by, waving to him. He’d be over a little later to see her.
As she turns towards the house, she notices the mailbox door is slightly open, packed with so much correspondence it is not shut completely.
She walks over to retrieve the mail sifting through it, but a large bulky envelope is what grabs her attention. The lettering is in a light blue and gold and the UCLA logo is on the front. It’s not just the fact that it’s an envelope; it’s that it’s a very thick envelope. She throws down the other mail to tear it open.
In front of a thick folder is a message from the school on its official letterhead.
Dear Nichole,
We are pleased to inform you-
It’s as far as she gets before she jumps up screaming and runs into the house.