the cheerleading captain, the girl every parent had heard about, the girl who could damage someone’s reputation with one post.
She glanced toward Mason’s table and whispered something to her friends.
A few of them laughed.
Then Brielle stood, smoothed down her dress, and started walking straight toward my son.
My stomach tightened.
“Please,” I whispered, “just let him have one good night.”
Mason looked up when she reached him. His face froze in disbelief.
“Hey, Mason,” Brielle said sweetly. “Wanna dance?”
“With me?” he asked.
“With you,” she said. “
