AllFreeNovel
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When she’s out of eyesight, I pump my fist in the air in celebration.
“I saw that,” she calls down, making me laugh.
“You didn’t see anything.”
Less than three minutes later, she returns with the same overnight bag she took with her to Seattle. I toss it into the back seat of my car, get her settled, and pull out of her driveway.
“Where are we going?” she asks. “And am I dressed appropriately?”
“You’re gorgeous.” I head toward town. “I thought we’d do something tonight that we used to do back in the day.”
She quirks a brow at me. “Did you?”
I feel my lips twitch. “Easy, tiger. For starters, we’re going to a high school football game. It is Friday night, after all.”
Earlier, I researched where the game is being held so it would be easy to find. I pull into a packed parking lot once we arrive.
“Small towns love their Friday night football games,” I say as I cut the engine and turn to smile at my girl. She’s not smiling in return. “What’s wrong? You used to love football.”
“I still like it.”
“My cousin Will will be thrilled to hear that.”
She rolls her eyes. “I just don’t usually come to these kinds of things. I try to blend, remember?”
“You’re a member of this community. Going to a game isn’t going to make you stand out like a sore thumb. Come on, it’ll be fun. They have hotdogs, and I’m starving. Aren’t you hungry?”
“For hotdogs?”
“They might have soft pretzels. Or nachos.”
I waggle my eyebrows and get out of the car, then walk around to open her door and take her hand to help her up.
“So, it’s a fancy date, then,” she says while batting her eyelashes. “You shouldn’t have.”
“We spent many a Friday night at the football field when we were younger,” I remind her as I link my fingers with hers and follow the crowd walking toward the gate.
“Yeah, because you were on the team, and I was a cheerleader. Attendance was required. Also, we were in high school. Here, we don’t even know the kids playing.” She stops short and blinks rapidly.
“What’s wrong?” I look in the direction she’s staring, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” She shakes her head and then smiles up at me. “I thought I saw something. Anyway, we’re no longer required to come to high school games.”
“Hey, it’s football.” I wink down at her, determined to have a good time tonight. “No pro teams in southern Oregon.”
“True.”
“Next!” a mom yells out. She’s wearing a Bandon Tigers sweatshirt, a pin on her chest with a photo of a player, and gold and black paint on her face. My guess is she’s the president of the PTA. “What can I getcha?”
“Four hotdogs for me,” I reply and then look down at El—Ally. “You?”
“Four?” she asks and then shakes her head. “I’ll have one hotdog and a Coke.”
“Oh, a Coke for me, too.”
The lady nods, shouts our hotdog order at the other mother filling those requests, and before long, we’re paid up and walking away with our food.
The lights are bright overhead, and the sun is starting to set. The cheerleaders are at their post on the sideline, just inside a wooden fence, smiling for the crowd.
As we walk past, I feel Ally move closer to me. I glance down in time to see her narrowing her eyes at the girls.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
We climb the bleachers and find a good spot, right in the middle of the crowd.
“For real, what happened?”
Ally takes a bite of her dog and shrugs a shoulder. “They were checking you out.”
“They’re like…sixteen.”
She shrugs again.
“I don’t go for jailbait, babe.”
“You did once.” Her voice is cool and matter-of-fact, and I can’t help but bust up laughing.
“Yeah, over you. And if I recall correctly, I was also jailbait at the time, so it doesn’t count.”
She laughs now, and I finish off one dog in two bites, then start on the next.
“You know, this isn’t a contest,” she says, watching me. “You can chew it.”
“I am.”
“How can you afford to feed yourself?”
“Good thing I’m rich.” I wink at her before taking a sip from the straw in my Coke. The game is about to start. A woman climbs the bleachers and sits next to me with a smile.
“Is this seat taken?”
“No, ma’am.”
She lays a blanket on the bench, sits, then spreads another blanket over her lap like it’s blizzarding out.
“Do you have a son playing?” she asks me.
“No, just here to enjoy the game. You?”
“That one.” She points to the field. “Number two.”
“Quarterback,” I say with a nod. “Very nice.”
“And that cheerleader,” she continues, pointing to a blond girl in the middle, “is my daughter.”
“Double the reason to be here,” I say with a nod. “That’s great.”
“They’re good kids,” she says, watching her daughter as she laughs with a friend. “I’m a single mom, so it hasn’t always been easy, but I have no complaints when it comes to them.”
