The Star Player's Plus-Size Obsession

Chapter 03

Emily's POV

The band hit the first note, and the whole gym exploded.

I stood behind the double doors with the Wildcat head in my paws. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my ears.

"This is my moment," I whispered to myself. "This is my moment."

I lifted the head and pulled it down over my face.

The world went dark and hot. I could see the gym through two little mesh holes in the eyes. Then the smell hit me.

It was sour and thick and rotten, like old meat left in the sun. It crawled up my nose and sat at the back of my throat.

"Oh God," I choked. "What is that smell?"

Nobody answered. The doors swung open, and the crowd roared.

I ran out onto the court. I waved my giant paws. I did the little wildcat shuffle I had practiced in my bedroom mirror for two hours last night. The students in the front row laughed and clapped.

The smell got worse. Something wet touched my forehead.

I kept dancing. I did a spin. My stomach rolled over.

Near the bench, I could hear the cheerleaders whispering behind their pom-poms.

"Oh, here it comes," Brooklyn said.

"This is better than I thought it would be," Ella giggled.

One of the girls tilted her head. "What's wrong with the wildcat?"

"Just keep watching," Brooklyn said. "Just keep watching."

I tried to do a high kick. My stomach heaved.

I tore at the head with my paws, but the strap under the chin was stuck. My breakfast came up before I could get it off. It went everywhere. Inside the head. Down the front of the suit. Onto the shiny wooden floor.

The gym went dead silent. Then two thousand people screamed at the same time.

"Oh my God, the mascot is puking!"

"Ew! Ew! Get it off the court!"

Somebody grabbed my arm. Through the mesh, I saw Coach Nate's red face.

"Sorry, folks," he shouted to the crowd. "Let's get you out of here, kid."

"I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

"Move. Fast."

He dragged me toward the side door. On the way, I passed the team bench. Enzo was standing at the end of it with a towel around his neck.

He was staring at me. His jaw was tight, and his eyebrows were pulled low over his dark eyes.

Then I was through the door, and he was gone.

In the locker room, I finally... no. In the locker room, I ripped the head off with shaking hands and threw it on the floor. Something fell out of the foam and landed on the tiles with a wet slap.

A rat. A gray, swollen, dead rat.

I screamed and stumbled back into the lockers.

The door banged open behind me. Brooklyn walked in, with Ella and Joyce and the rest of the squad behind her.

"Well, if it isn't our star performer," Brooklyn said.

"I think you broke a school record," Ella said, holding her nose. "Most disgusting mascot ever."

"There was something dead in the headpiece." I pointed at the floor. My voice was shaking. "Look. Look at it. Somebody put it there."

Brooklyn did not even glance down.

"Oh, please. Don't blame our poor mascot costume for your inability to hold your lunch."

"I didn't do this. I didn't..."

"Did you think a fat, ugly nobody like you could ever be one of us?" Brooklyn stepped closer, then wrinkled her nose and stepped back again. "God, you stink."

"Brooklyn, please. You said if I didn't embarrass you..."

"And you did. In front of the whole school." She smiled. "Even Enzo couldn't hide how repulsed he was."

Ella laughed. "She thought Enzo would notice her."

"Oh, he noticed her," Brooklyn said. "Now he knows how disgusting she is."

I looked past them at Joyce. She was standing near the back, with her arms crossed. She would not meet my eyes.

"Joyce," I said. "Tell them. Tell them I would never..."

Joyce pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. Then she turned it around so I could see.

It was a video. Me, in the Wildcat suit, spinning in circles on the court. Then bending over. Then the puke.

Under it, the caption read: WESTFIELD'S WILDCAT CAN'T HOLD IT IN.

Forty thousand views. And the number was still climbing.

"Congratulations, Emily," Joyce said. "You're internet famous."

My eyes burned. I wiped my face with the back of a dirty paw.

"Thanks," I whispered. "Not in the way anybody would want to be."

Brooklyn clapped her hands. "Okay, ladies, back out. The dean is making some big announcement before tip-off, and I am not missing it because of her."

They walked out together, laughing.

I stood alone in the locker room for a long time. Then I peeled off the suit, scrubbed my face in the sink, and pulled on my old gray hoodie.

I should have gone home. I know that. But some stupid part of me wanted to see what the announcement was. So I slipped through the side door and stood in the shadow under the bleachers, where nobody could see me.

Dean Fred Harmon stood at center court with a microphone. The floor was clean now. Someone had mopped up my shame.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the dean said, "before the game today, I'd like to announce an exciting addition to Westfield University."

The crowd buzzed.

"Who is he talking about?" a girl above me asked.

"Are we getting a transfer student?" her friend said.

"It is my great pleasure to announce that joining our team this semester is an exceptional talent," the dean went on. "Two-time MVP. Player of the Year. Scouted by every top university in the nation. Please welcome Mr. Grayson Hawkins!"

The doors at the end of the gym opened, and a tall boy jogged onto the court.

He had golden-brown hair and a wide, easy smile. He wore a Westfield jersey with the number 7, and he waved at the crowd like he had been doing it his whole life.

The gym lost its mind.

"That's him," the girl above me screamed. "That's him!"

"Grayson Hawkins? The Grayson Hawkins?"

"I can't breathe. I can't breathe."

Down by the court, Brooklyn grabbed Ella's arm. "Oh my God, he's even hotter in person."

"I didn't even know he was transferring here," Ella squealed.

Grayson took the microphone from the dean.

"Thank you. Thank you for the warm welcome."

The screaming got louder. He laughed and held up a hand until the crowd settled.

"I'm excited to be here," he said. "And I'm ready to give this team everything I've got. Let's have a season no one will forget."

The crowd went wild. The band started playing. The cheerleaders jumped and waved their pom-poms.

I pulled my hood down lower and turned to leave.My sneaker squeaked on the floor.

At center court, Grayson's head turned. His smile slipped. His blue eyes found me in the shadows under the bleachers and stayed there.

He lowered the microphone. I could see his lips move.

"It's her?"