Two Jocks, One Crush

Bill Timmons dropped his tray on the cafeteria table with a loud plastic clack. He stared across the room, jaw slowly falling open.

"Dude," he said, elbowing Roger Ericson so hard the baseball player nearly inhaled his chocolate milk. "Check out Lisa Wallace."

Roger wiped his mouth, blinked once, twice, then leaned forward, staring.

"Holy...wow. Since when did Lisa Wallace get so hot?" Roger commented, amazement in his voice.

"Right?" Bill asked, eyes glued to Lisa, who was strutting toward an empty table on the far side of the room, wearing a tiny blue-and-silver cheer outfit that hugged his body in a hypnotizing manner.

Roger gestured helplessly at the air. "Now that's the kind of girl who could ruin my life and I'd thank her for it."

Bill chuckled quietly. "Yeah. Yeah, I get that."

They both sat in stunned silence as Lisa stood, hips cocked, posing as if to draw the eye of every guy in the room. Bill made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a prayer.

"She's gotta know what she's doing to us," he muttered.

Roger shook his head. "No way. Lisa's oblivious. Always has been. Probably has no idea how hot he is," he paused, thinking. "Remember when we used to shove him into lockers?”

"Yeah," Bill said dreamily. "Worst decision of my life. What were we thinking? He'll never go out with us now."

Roger squinted again. "Dude...how did we not notice Lisa was this hot? I would have treated him like a goddess if I'd realized."

Bill shrugged, baffled. "Maybe he had a glow-up. Maybe he started doing yoga. Maybe he discovered moisturiser. I dunno. But damn."

Across the room, Wyatt Donnelly slid into the seat opposite Lisa, crossing her legs in that tight red leather minidress, boots up to her thighs. Of course. The pair had always been friends. It hadn't been just Lisa that Bill and Roger had shoved in lockers. Wyatt had been pressed into the tight spaces, too. But now that the pair could see Lisa for who he really was, a stone cold fox, it made sense that the person he would consider for a romantic partner would be Wyatt. She was, after all, a good looking guy. They would make a good couple.

"Fucking Wyatt Donnelly," Bill finally said after watching the pair talking for a while, jealousy making its way from his heart to his mouth.

Roger nodded. "Yeah."

They watched for a while, then Roger spoke again.

"You know, she's always been kinda weird-looking. Skinny. Legs too long. Huge tits. At least she's learned how to dress more normally."

"Right?" Bill took a bite of his pizza, still staring at the pair, trying to ignore the fact that Wyatt was the only guy Lisa seemed to have eyes for. "Although I don't know who suddenly gave her fashion lessons."

Roger shrugged. "Fuck it. Not worth figuring out."

They stared at the conversation happening across the cafeteria. Neither could read lips, but it didn't matter. It wasn't what was being said that was important. It was who was saying it. Whatever it was, it had to be perfect. Perfect words coming from perfect lips on a perfect girl.

"Dude," Bill said, voice low and reverent, "Lisa is such a smoke show it's messed up. I don't even care if other people hear me say it."

Roger nodded. "You wouldn't be the only one to say it."

There was a beat of silence while both boys watched Lisa fidget with the hem of the cheer skirt, trying not to pull it down even as it rode dangerously high.

Bill cleared his throat. "So...uh...you going to watch cheer practice after school?"

Roger didn't answer. His eyes were still on Lisa. "Obviously."

Bill grinned. "Good. Because I could use the company."

Roger leaned back, dreamy. "Man. Think they'll let us film it?"

"Bro, don't get me started."

"I'm already started."

They both sighed in unison. The clock couldn't move fast enough to get to the end of the day. And so they kept staring, counting the seconds, appreciating the view.