I really love this picture. The jerseys are the perfect colour and almost exactly what I imagined Nor'Wester's jerseys to look like. (This image is an example of what Nor'Wester's jerseys look like, not Westmount's.)

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The gravel crunch beneath my shoes as the adrenaline pumped viscously through my veins. Inhaling a deep breath, I attempted to calm my nerves.

For God's sake. Why was I so nervous?

I've known Dean for years, and we've hung out more times than I can count. But this was different. Way different.

Knocking on the door, could hear his dog Bagels barking at me.

Dean opened the door, but the beagle greeted me first. His little tail wagging as he jumped and yipped. I bent down and pet him, while smiling at Dean.

He closed the door behind me and I gave him a tight hug.

"Hey. Sorry I'm a little late, traffic wasn't that great." I spoke, taking off my shoes.

"It's fine, you got here before I thought you would." He replied, leading me down to his basement.

The lights were off all except for the ones in the staircase. On the floor in front of the tv was a pile of blankets and pillows.

"I figured we could watch a movie." Dean spoke from behind me.

I turned around and looked up at him.

"You did all this?" I asked, putting my hand on his arm.

He nodded, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. His pale lips forming a heartwarming smile. We stood still for a moment, just staring at each other, and I never wanted it to end.

I bit down on my lip and wrapped my hands around his neck. I pulled him close to me, and he rested his hands on my waist as I hugged him tightly. The smell of axe and laundry detergent flooded over me.

"Thank you. It's amazing. You're amazing." I mumbled in to his chest.

"No you're amazing. I'd do anything for you Bailey." He replied, squeezing my waist a little.

He pulled away from me and we sat down on the ground, Dean's arm draped around my shoulder.

"What movie do you want to watch?" He asked, picking up the remote.

"Do you even need to ask?" I laughed as he shook his head.

"Apparently not." He selected Cruise and tossed the remote off to the side.

This movie had been my favorite since I first watched it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Spencer Boldman was in one of my favorite Disney shows when I was younger. Or maybe it was the 'Rebel Without a Cause' vibe that it gave off.

But either way I loved this movie almost more that life itself.

Throughout the movie, Dean and I sunk further in to the mountains of blankets, and he pulled me closer to him, my hand on his chest, and my head in the crook of his neck. My other hand fiddled with his fingers.

The credits lit up the screen, and I looked at him.

"Every time I watch this movie it gets better." I smiled.

"Explains why you always choose it." He said, propping himself up on one of his elbows.

"What, you don't like it?" I teased.

"Not really, but if you like it I'll watch it with you." He smiled, his hand traveling to my hip.

"You're too sweet."

His tongue flicked out to lick his lips, and his eyes focused on mine. A small smirk crossed my face, and my breath hitched. He pulled me closer to him and gently pressed our lips together.

I ran my hands through his caramel hair and he moved his right hand to my cheek.

Pulling away, my cheeks flared red and my smile was going from ear to ear. The tips of his ears were bright red, and he let out an airy laugh. His head dipped down.

"Bailey?" He looked back at me.

I hummed in response.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" The words made the butterflies in my stomach go crazy.

I knew the question was coming, but I still had nerves and the adrenaline fueled the butterflies.

"Of course." I pulled him back in for a peck on the lips. I cuddled up closer to him, resting my head on his chest. His heartbeat echoed in my ears.

###

"So, you and Dean?" Baylor smirked.

I swatted his arm as I walked by, but he didn't even flinch. Instead he attempted to fix his bed head in his phone reflection. Despite his efforts, his dark hair still stuck out in various directions, witch matched perfectly with his crinkled shirt and plaid pyjama pants.

"What about it?" I replied, opening the freezer and gabbing the waffles.

"Is that where you were last night?" He asked.

"Yep." I popped the waffles in the freezer.

"You gonna come to my game tonight?" He changed the subject.

"Wouldn't miss it. Y'all are gonna kick some Northside High ass." I replied, buttering my breakfast.

We talked about the game, as we ate.

"Kids, what do you think we should have for the first dinner?" My mother asked, studying her shopping list.

"Definitely chicken cutlets." Baylor said.

"Ooh, with pasta and salad." I added, pointing my finger at her.

"Good idea." She agreed, scribbling on her notepad. "I can make fresh bread too."

"If Baylor doesn't eat it all on you." I laughed, putting my plate in the dishwasher, and heading upstairs.

Picking my duffle bag up off my bed, I unzipped it and took out the maroon jerseys. I was beginning to run out of space for all of them.

I opened another one of my empty drawers and began neatly folding the pieces of fabric and placing them away.

Just cause they aren't mine doesn't mean I shouldn't take care of them.

I now had four and a half drawers full of slightly smelly football jerseys. Might be considered odd without context. Okay, it's still a little odd with context, but whatever.

###

Again, I found myself in the Westmount High parking lot. It was flooded with students eager to get home for the weekend. All of them clad in matching blue and white uniforms. Most of the guys wore shorts, and the girls wore skirts.

The sun beamed down, and I knew that even through they wore shorts and skirts, these uniforms couldn't be comfortable.

Stepping out of my car I headed for the front doors of the building, accidentally bumping in to a guy.

I fell down on to my butt, but he barley moved.

"I'm so sorry." He apologized, reaching a hand out to pull me up.

Graciously I grabbed it, and he pulled me up.

"It's okay, I'm the one that walked in to you." I replied, wiping dirt off my leggings.

I smiled and continued on my way to locker room.

Jesus Bailey. Get your shit together.

Honestly, I was surprised that he didn't question my hoodie, although, I'm sure he didn't give a shit.

The school was still too busy for me to just walk in to the locker room from he inside. So I walked along the wall, and discreetly slipped inside.

I was pleasantly surprised that it didn't smell completely disgusting. But what wasn't pleasant, was the sounds of voices.

I ducked in to an empty shower stall, hoping that they might not notice my feet.

"Yeah, I do think it's weird, but that's why Dylan mad us hide them." A guy's voice came in to earshot.

"You never know, the Jersey Girl might strike." Another voice added.

Jersey Girl? Are they talking about me?

"Girl? How to you know it's a girl?" The first guy asked.

Yeah, how do they know I'm a girl?

"Dylan said he was talking to one of the quarterbacks that almost caught her. Apparently he didn't see her, but he knew it was girl." The second guy informed.

So Evan told them I was a girl. I guess that makes sense.

"Damn, so there's a girl sneaking in to our locker rooms, stealing our jerseys? I hope she's hot."

At this I simply rolled my eyes. Dean's comments like that were the only ones that made me blush. Although I did appreciate the compliments.

"It be better if she just didn't take our fucking shit." He scoffed.

Aww, he doesn't like it when I take their stuff? Too bad, so sad.

"Whatever dude, let's just get going before we get in trouble."

The other guy grunted in agreement, and a few minutes later, I heard them leave.

"Took 'em long enough." I grumbled.

If Dylan got the team to hide their jerseys this robbery was going to be way harder than I expected. Nevertheless I began searching the room. Opening lockers, looking under benches and in shower and bathroom stalls. But found nothing. The storage closets were also empty, as was the coach's office.

I was really starting to get frustrated.

Scanning the room, I noticed one spot I had yet to check. The laundry cart.

Please, God, don't let it be with the dirty, sweaty, nasty towels.

Throwing the contents of the bin on the ground next to me, and I kept digging. Eventually, I found every sigle one of the jerseys at the very bottom of the bin. They were damp and smelled absolutely disgusting.

Leaving the building I had almost made it to my car, when I heard yelling.

"HEY! WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN THERE?" A loud voice rang through the courtyard.

Pretending I didn't hear him I kept walking.

"COME BACK HERE!" He demanded, stomping over to me, followed by a few others.

I sprinted out of the parking lot and swung a left, heading down a random street. I ran across an intersection, my heart pounding in my throat. I was desperate to find a place to hide.

"I SAID GET BACK HERE!" The guy yelled, as he got closer to me.

Adrenaline fueling my movements, I spotted a grocery store across the street. I ran towards it, ignoring the honking horns and angry yelling. I could hear the guys right behind me, not at all fazed by the possibility of getting hit but a car.

I pushed open the glass doors with force and continued to run to the back of the store. I ducked in to the chip isle, and squared down, scanning my surroundings.

Panting, and trying to catch my breath I watched five guys in football uniforms walk in, splitting up to search for me. Dylan and one other headed to the freezers, while the other three began searching the bakery.

They made their way towards the back, and I snuck down an isle and tried to make an exit. Cautiously I ducked behinds stands and isles before exiting the building.

I jogged back to the school, hiding behind cars in the parking lot, and making sure no one else saw me get in my Jeep.

My heat still pounded like a drum as I made my way to Nor'Wester Heights. Although, I was back to normal by the time I got there.

I checked my phone, reading the text Baylor had sent me earlier.

The picture was of a pale guy, he had soft features that matched his large brown eyes and dark hair. His megawatt smile radiated positive energy through my phone screen.

Baylor: Zach Collins, #1.

I got out of my car and headed over to the field, but saw no coach. The players weren't running drills, but were simply just doing push-ups and sit-ups. Their helmets, and padding on the sidelines. Leaving them in their stretchy Under Armour shirts.

A few of them gave me a weird look, but others just ignored my presence. It took a few moments, but eventually I found Zach in the middle of one of the back rows.

"Zach Collins?" I asked, once I was standing in front of him.

"Yeah?" He replied, continuing with his push-ups.

"This is for you." I held out the letter, and he laid down on his stomach, reading it.

"I kinda figured we made it once all our jerseys got taken," He stated, once he had finished reading it. "But thanks for the confirmation."

"No problem." I smiled.

"But I gotta ask," He continued. "What're we supposed to do about this whole jersey thing?"

"I'm not sure. But my dad said he'll figure something out."

He doesn't have to worry. They'll all get their jerseys back just the way they left them.

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Another longer chapter, I hope you like it. I decided that jersey stealing was getting a little too easy for Bailey, so I had to do something about that. Anyway, only two more schools left, what could go wrong?

~Grace🏈