Darla dragged Jerry toward the bleachers. She was dressed in the same uniform as the other two cheerleaders: a sleeveless green top with Statesmen printed in gold script across the front, a green skirt trimmed with gold and ending significantly above her knees, tiny white socks, and green athletic shoes. Matching ribbons secured her honey-blonde hair. Initially, Jerry thought the tiny sparkles on Darla’s face were glistening sweat, but with a second glance, he determined it was glittery make-up. Her lips were painted sports-car red. And she smelled like someone set off a bomb in a candy shop: bubble gum, chocolate, and Peeps. The effect was like a punch in the gut, and he found it challenging to breathe. They took seats in the first row, and Jerry forced himself to maintain eye contact, staring at irises the color of a putting green framed by impossibly long lashes. “This is so exciting!” Darla tapped away on her phone. “We’re going to be in the school newspaper.” “I’m not sure exciting is the word I would choose to describe what happened to your teammate.” “Oh right.” Darla’s expression became subdued. “Do you have to write about that? It’s so depressing. Couldn’t…