Somewhere during the second quarter, I’m clapping before I even realize it, my voice blending with the crowd’s as I yell his name. My tummy is light and jittery, like soda bubbles under my ribs.
When halftime hits, the cheerleaders take the court. Mabel leans close, sipping a soda she brought through a pink straw. “He keeps glancing this way, you know. He’s totally showing off for you.”
I have noticed him looking my way throughout the game, and I want to believe that it’s real and not just for show. But overanalyzing our interactions as a fake couple will only confuse me.
By the final quarter, the Falcons are up by eight points. The clock ticks down, the crowd’s on its feet, and Ezra sinks the final shot just as the buzzer blares.
The sound of cheers and whistles explodes around me, and I can’t stop smiling, even though I don’t care about basketball. I don’t even like it. But I have to admit…that game was exhilarating. Exciting. Who knew it could be so much fun? It’s the first time I’ve understood why Ezra loves playing sports so much.
The team piles together, shouting, jumping, and hugging. When the gym finally starts to empty, I linger at the top of the bleachers, waiting for Mabel to text Tucker. Then Ezra spots me from the edge of the court and waves me down.
“I’ll meet you outside,” Mabel says, smiling. “Go.”
When I reach Ezra, a rush of pride swarms me. “You won, and you were amazing,” I say. And without thinking, I throw my arms around him in a full body, tight hug. The kind that’s pure and real and warm.
He freezes when my cheek presses into his shoulder. Snapping out of his stupor, he winds his arms around me.
It feels so good to hug him.
When I pull away, he grins as he takes in the sight of me in his jersey. “You wore it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Apparently I would have been a bad girlfriend if I didn’t.”
He laughs, brushing sweat-soaked curls off his forehead. “You? Never. But I was right.”
“About what?”
“I told you it would look good on you.”
I roll my eyes, but my heart is dribbling across my chest like his basketball. “Thanks.”
His voice comes out quiet as he peers down at me. “So, I’ll see you Sunday night?”
“You will?”
“Yeah, for family dinner at my house.”
I nod. “Oh, yeah.Yes. I will be there.”
Ezra smiles softly, and when he looks at me, really looks, I have to remind myself to get a grip.
This is still pretend, Rue. It always has been.
So why does it feel anything but?
Chapter 15
Ezra
When Sunday night arrives, I’m full of nerves. This isn’t the first time Rue has been to my house. She’s even had dinner here before, but that was back in middle school.
Seeing her here now? It’s surreal. She must think so too, because she keeps shuffling her feet under the coffee table while Mom prattles on about how long it’s been and about some new cooking trick I don’t have the attention span to understand.
Dad went to the store to get extra ingredients, snacks, and a few household items shortly after I brought Rue over, but he made it pretty clear how good it was to see her again. Almost to the point where I had to beg him to stop, because all the fawning over Rue is just a reminder that I’m the reason she stopped coming around in the first place.
Olivia is the only one who has kept cool, but that’s partly thanks to her best friend Corinne being here. Corinne has a calmness about her that’s contagious, and I can’t help but be thankful she’s here tonight as well. Maybe her quiet energy will somehow rub off on Mom and make her stop talking at Rue so much.
“Ezra, come help me carry in the food,” Dad calls from the front door, his voice muffled behind the paper grocery bags.
