SIXTY EIGHT

Prince eyes meet mine as he scans the bleachers, perhaps because we're sitting quite close to the field. I smile, waving my hand to him. I really hope that they'll win this game, so I won't have to feel guilty for consuming most of his time.

"Oh my Gosh," Kyla gasps beside me. "He's a hottie. Is that Prince?"

I nod, biting my lip. "Yup."

"Well, I've actually heard about him before," Kyla says. "He and Drake are really popular, like, if you're into college football, they shine so bright and make every girl swoon. But I didn't expect he would look that good. I mean, look at his body," she tattles.

I don't know why, but I feel a bit irritated from knowing that she's checking his body out. Easy, girl.

Oh, crap. Am I jealous? What are you thinking, Cheska? Stupid brain.

No. Stupid heart.

Luckily, the game starts with a kickoff, shifting my attention back to reality before I can keep blaming myself. I've heard that the opponent's team from the neighboring university is tough, but hope