As they made their way across the field, and right at the fifty-yard line no less, Amy felt as though the eyes of the entire stadium were on her and her alone. She badly wanted to pull down her stocking cap, bunch up the collar of her heavy woolen coat, and do her best to be invisible. This level of public exposure was nothing short of agony.

The popcorn and hot chocolate she’d happily consumed earlier now churned in her stomach. Only Amy’s absolute refusal to lose the joy she’d felt from eating them gave her the strength to keep them down. Even so, she had to choke down a brief pair of gagging coughs.

Mr. Armstrong must have noticed her distress.

“You sound like you might be coming down with something. We don’t have to do this if you aren’t up to it.”

“No, I’ll manage,” she managed in a high, thin croak that didn’t sound anything at all like her usual low, mellow voice. “Just don’t expect me to talk much.”

True to his word, Mr. Armstrong drew the attention to himself once they’d approached the opposing bench. Although many of the visiting team’s players had taken notice of her, most of them remained focused on the low discussion between coaches, leaving Amy time to gather her wits about her. Since the potency of her magic tended to be directly related to her level of confidence, staying calm was tantamount.

It took Amy a moment to realize that close up, most of the players weren’t that much taller or broader than she was. Once you looked past the bulky gear and helmets, they were pretty much just ordinary teenage boys on the bigger end of the scale. Despite George Larson’s claim of boundless stamina, most of the players looked quite sweaty and winded, showing clear signs of the strain of vigorous exercise. Amy couldn’t smell any hint of the awful breath that Terry White had described. But at the distance she was keeping from the players themselves, that wasn’t too much of a surprise.

Before Amy could adequately steel herself, the focus of the opposing team suddenly switched to her, almost as one. She’d just managed a nervous swallow when the second surprise threatened to overwhelm her. One of the players was not only approaching, he was speaking directly to her. His first “Hey” was promptly lost in a foggy haze as she was floored by the realization of just how good-looking this tall guy was.

No, not just good-looking, he was flat out gorgeous.

Mr. Handsome was just over six feet in height, an inch or two taller than Amy’s own five-ten. The bulk of his gear and the white uniform was creating an illusion of extra height. With his orange helmet removed, thick, honey brown hair clung damply to the sides and back of his head in dark, tousled waves. It was difficult to tell the color of his eyes in the mix of shadows and brightness created by the stadium lights, but it was obvious his expression was one of polite respect. His smooth, solid chin had been moving in time with those tantalizing, smiling lips, but Amy hadn’t caught a single word.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” she admitted with a nervous gulp.

There was a ripple of low chuckling from the gorgeous guy’s teammates as this paragon of youthful masculinity graced her with an irresistibly charming smile that pulled higher on one side. If the smile wasn’t enough to make her melt into an incomprehensible puddle, the laughing glint in his eyes would surely finish her off.

“I said ‘you must be the magically talented girl your coach was talking about’.”

Her coach?

“Yes,” Amy nodded stiffly. “I’m here to check you out.”

Her words were barely out of her mouth when the first snorts of amusement burst from half a dozen players standing nearby. She had only just registered the embarrassing, double meaning of what she’d said when she proceeded to make matters worse.

“I’m mean, not just you. I’m here to check out all of you.”

Amy’s cheeks burned in contrast to the cool of the autumn evening. The gorgeous guy’s smile widened to reveal a sliver of shining white teeth, and his shoulders quivered in barely suppressed mirth. His teammate’s chuckling had exploded into full on laughter, and some of the guys were throwing out rather unflattering remarks. Wolf whistles and mock growling mixed with comments of “oh yeah”, “yeah baby”, and other increasingly inappropriate remarks.

Amy fought back the urge to flee as she focused on maintaining her crumbling confidence. She’d promised Mr. Armstrong she would do her best, and her best was what she fully intended to do.

“What I meant to say was that I am here to look for traces of magic.”

The rolling laughter instantly quieted. Although the good humor had fled from the handsome guy’s face, he still managed to maintain his calm, polite demeanor.

“I promise you we’re not cheating, Miss Tucker. I know we all want to win really badly, but we’d never break the rules like that. We want our win to be fair and square.”

Amy sensed the sincerity in his words and expression. She freely admitted to herself that she desperately wanted to see this cute, friendly guy in a good light. She had to forcibly remind herself that she was here to think objectively. She wasn’t here to impress a guy who at any other time wouldn’t even notice her, let alone want to hold a conversation.

“I’m not trying to accuse anyone,” she said. “I’m just going to look around with my aura sight. I promise to be as truthful as I can in describing what I see.”

Amy just now realized that this guy had addressed her by name. She had yet to hear or ask for his. It was probably best that she didn’t. In the event her subconscious mind concocted any number of fantasies of him in the future, he could remain comfortably nameless.

“Go ahead,” he nodded.

Amy took a deep breath before closing her eyes to concentrate. Focus was absolutely essential. She had only succeeded in seeing into the spectrum of magic and spirits a couple of years ago, and it still tended to leave her exhausted and aching. Her teachers had tried their best to aid her progress, but spirit sight was one of those things that varied heavily from practitioner to practitioner. It simply had to be learned individually.

“Give me a moment to focus,” she pleaded after noticing everyone nearby had gone silent.

After a few additional deep, calming breaths, Amy felt herself slipping into that necessary, comfortable state, one in which she would be better able to practice her magical arts. Once that tingling, magical flow become noticeable from behind her closed eyelids, Amy slowly cracked them open.

“Oh!”