Two days later, my first cross-country meet had arrived. I had my leg pulled up behind me to stretch when Logan pointed a finger in my face.
“May you be the strongest. May you run the hardest. And may your ass beat some bitches and be the fastest.”
“Hey!”
He moved his finger to Taylor beside me. “Hold on a second.” He turned to face her, his finger in her face. “May you be the strongest. May you run the hardest. And may your cute and fine ass that I really loved impaling last night be the fas—”
She finished stretching and grabbed his finger. “You couldn’t have used a different word? Impaling? Really?” She rolled her eyes, letting go of his finger. “We got it. Thank you.” She gave him two thumbs-up. “Best cheerleading boyfriend ever.”
He straightened and saluted her, then me. “I’m doin
