Authors: Lisa de Jong
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary
“It’s just … when you were talking about your high school boyfriend, it didn’t sound like you had that type of relationship.” Her green eyes are as big as I’ve ever seen them.
“I’m smart, but that doesn’t make me an angel.”
“I’m sorry. You just didn’t seem like the type to risk it.”
“Risk what?”
“Getting your heart broken.”
I laugh, a serious, gut-shaking laugh. “In order for a guy to break your heart, you have to feel a certain way about him. Clay had a special place in my heart, but it was different than what you have with Beau.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Your relationship seems so effortless, and you guys enjoy being with each other. I’ve never seen you fight once. What I had with Clay was so much work, mostly because I never truly invested in it.”
“Beau and I were friends forever, though. We understand each other.”
“So why did you wait so long to get in a relationship?”
An uneasy feeling washes over her face. “I liked him for a long time, but things happened that kept us apart, or should I say
I
kept us apart.”
“
Yeah, I guess I kind of did the same thing with Clay. I never really gave us a chance to be anything more than high school sweethearts. I was too afraid he’d hold me back.”
“Do you think you could have had something more permanent?”
“I’ll never know. I mean, I think I did too much damage in the beginning by keeping him at arm’s length to ever give us a happy ending.” I stop, wondering how the heck we always end up having these types of conversations. I guess, in a way, it’s good that I feel like I can open up to Kate, and it allows me to see that I created some of my misery myself. Not everything can be blamed on my mom.
“So are you and Beau doing anything today?” I ask, ready for a subject change.
“Beau’s going to the homecoming game.”
“You’re not going?” I’m surprised. They seem to do everything together.
“No, I told him I wanted to hang out with you. Besides, he is going with Cory and a couple other guys.”
The mention of the game brings the bag I have hidden inside my backpack to the forefront of my mind again. I’d all but decided not to go, but I wonder what Kate would think of it.
“Drake gave me something the other day after our presentation.”
“Really? What was it?”
Scooting down to the end of the bed, I lift my backpack from the floor and pull out the black gift bag with yellow tissue paper. I haven’t looked at it since he gave it to me. “Here,” I say, handing it off to Kate.
She pulls out the paper first, coming up with the number twelve black and gold jersey with Chambers across the back. I wonder if the players are even supposed to hand them out. “Oh my God. Why did Drake Chambers give you his jersey?”
“He wants me to go to the game today. He even put three tickets at the bottom of the bag,” I say, nervously playing with the edge of the comforter.
She reaches her hand to the bottom and comes up with a white envelope with my name scrolled on the top. She tears it open and pulls out the contents, laying them on top of my bed. Three tickets are fanned out, but there’s also a folded piece of notebook paper. One I would have never known was there if it hadn’t been for her.
“I didn’t know there was a letter,” I say, pulling it from her fingers. I don’t hesitate to open it.
In my haste to read what Drake wrote, I didn’t notice Kate leaning over to read right along with me. “You need to go, Emery. I’ll call Rachel, and we’ll go with you.”
“I can’t.” I don’t want to be judgmental, but I know Drake’s just going to break my heart. He’s already scratched it a
couple times, and we’re not even in any sort of relationship. We’ve never even kissed … I have no idea what he wants from me.
“Why not? This is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen, and the fact that it came from Drake Chambers says something.”
“Why is he doing this?” I ask. It’s a question I’ve asked myself over and over the last few days. Why does he care so much whether or not I go to this?
“I think he likes you but just doesn’t want to admit it. Sometimes guys need a little push. I mean, do you know how long Beau liked me before he actually said something?” She stops, picking the jersey up off the bed and throwing it over my shoulder. “Put this on. The game starts in a little over an hour. We can still make it.”
I open my mouth to argue, but the look she’s giving me warns me not to waste my time. I stand up and pull on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve white shirt from my dresser, ready to see what this football stuff is all about.
“I can’t believe you’ve never been to a game before,”
Rachel says as we walk into the packed stadium. This is the first time I’ve met her, but it doesn’t feel that way. The three of us quickly fell into a rhythm and haven’t stopped talking since.
“Hey, give her a break. I’ve never been to one either—not in college anyway,” Kate replies, saving me from having to come up with an explanation.
“Cory drags me along to almost every home game. The only reason I didn’t have to go this time was because Beau invited him. Tell him thank you.”
Kate laughs. “I will.”
Rachel nudges my shoulder, pointing to three empty seats in the front row of the student section. “Drake scored us some good seats. We should have painted our stomachs or something. Maybe we could have gotten ourselves on TV.”
“I’d never do that,” Kate chimes in as we take our seats.
The teams are just taking the field and, oddly enough, I’m nervous. Not because I’m here, but for Drake. I remember what he told me that night on the field, and I wonder how he’s doing right now, especially since it’s homecoming. Maybe I should have texted him to wish him good luck, to let him know I’m rooting for him.
As the teams settle on their respective sidelines, I notice number twelve jumping up and down on the green turf. He’s rubbing his hands together like he’s cold, and breathing into them as his eyes scan the stands.
I feel a knee in my back and spin around, slightly annoyed. “Hey.” It’s the girl with shoulder-length blonde hair who I’ve seen around Drake before. “Is that Drake’s jersey?”
“Yes it is,” Rachel answers for me, not bothering to even turn around.
Before I turn back to the field, I notice the girl mouth “wow” as her eyes continue to take me in. “Don’t get to used to it. It’s not like you’re the first girl to show up here with that on. In fact, I will almost bet you that it’s back on me by next weekend.”
Rachel turns around, her hands closed in fists. “You know what, Olivia, I’m here every weekend, and I’ve never seen you or anyone else wearing his number.”
Olivia makes a clucking sound with her tongue as she looks away from us. I spin around, intent on enjoying the game.
“Don’t listen to her. But for the record, I still can’t believe he wanted you to wear that,” Rachel says, loud enough that only I can hear it.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not so much that he gave it to you, but that he gave it to anyone at all. He doesn’t give many people the time of day.” I kind of know this. I’ve known him long enough to see how he is.
“I think he has a lot going on,” I say, watching Drake lead the offense out to the field for the first time.
Kate leans in next to my other ear. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell
you this, but Olivia had a fling with him last year. And when I say fling, I mean, they had sex at a party, and he didn’t even ask her name the next morning when he woke up. He told
Beau about it because she won’t leave him alone.”
Bile rises from my stomach when I think about him doing that to anyone. Why is it that I can’t see it? Why is he different around me? “We’re not like that. I mean, we’re not dating so you don’t have to worry about me.”
Kate stares down at the football field and points her finger for me to look, a huge grin on her face. “We’ll see. Besides, something tells me he wouldn’t do that to you.”
I follow the direction of her gaze and see Drake with his hand over his eyes, looking up to where I sit with my friends. When he sees me, he smirks and then walks off to join his teammates in the huddle.
Rachel bumps her shoulder against mine. “Looks like someone is happy you made it.”
I smile, wrapping my arms around my body to shield myself from the cool breeze that’s whirling around the stadium.
I don’t know a thing about how football works besides the little things that Drake’s told me, but Kate and Rachel give me a play-by-play, allowing me to catch on quickly. The teams are pretty evenly matched in the first half, tying each other over and over again, until the very end when
Southern Iowa captures the lead. Watching Drake take his team down the field is an adrenaline rush. If I’m feeling like this from the bleachers, I can’t imagine what it feels like for him.
At halftime, his team heads toward the locker room, but Drake stays behind, talking to one of the brunette cheerleaders who’s been cheering on our end of the field the entire half. A burning sensation fills my chest, surprising me yet again. Why do I feel this way about a guy I can never have? The breeze blows some hair into my eyes, but I quickly shove it away as I turn my back to the field, unable to see him anymore.
I hate feeling jealous, and of all people to get jealous over, why does it have to be Drake? I know better than to let myself get hung up on a guy like him. Especially after hearing about Olivia and the way he treated her. Little Miss Short Skirt down there is probably his plan for the evening.
“Do you want to grab a drink or something?” Kate asks, holding her hair back from her face.
“I think I’m going to use the restroom.” At this point, I don’t even know if I want to stay for the second half because being here doesn’t feel right anymore.
As I start toward the cement stairs, I feel a hand on my shoulder and spin back around. It’s the cheerleader Drake was talking to on the field. “I’m supposed to give this to you.” She slips a small piece of paper in my hand and quickly disappears.
“What’s that?” Kate asks over my shoulder.
“I don’t know.”
I unfold the note, immediately recognizing Drake’s handwriting.
Folding it back up, I hold it against my chest. Every time I’m about to give up on him, he reins me back in. And if he thinks that little gestures like this are going to earn him points, he’s probably right.