Page 58 of I Choose You

I shook my head, scanning the full parking lot and the fans and students milling near the ticket booth. “That’s harsh, Kody.”

He made a sound of protest. “Harsh? You want to talk about what’s harsh? Expecting the football team to win without Doug. The team won’t win without their best quarterback.”

“I can’t believe he got busted with a DUI,” I said, shaking my head.

“He’s damned lucky he didn’t kill anyone,” Kody said.

“I know.” Our classmate and the team’s star player likely wouldn’t walk for graduation now, both because of his DUI and because he’d broken multiple bones crashing into a tree.

Kody quickened his step, looking at the crowd like I had been. “It’s packed. Hope they aren’t showing up just to see Doug play.”

I shrugged. Only time would tell.

It was a great early fall night to be out. The big moon shone down on the field. Cheerleaders entertained with a new routine. All the players maintained a close score despite their star player being out. And the stands were jam-packed with families, fans, students, and faculty. Everyone had turned out tonight, but with that many people, the peace didn’t last long.

Students got rowdy, talking crap with the rival students in the designated visiting-team area of the bleachers. People pushed and shoved, and at least one guy insisted someone had grabbed his girlfriend’s ass in the crowd.

Kody and I stuck together. We usually did because we were both huge fans of the sport. Sometimes I wished we could watch the games at home, on TV, instead of dealing with the crazy crowds.

“Come on, that’s bullshit!” Kody yelled. He exaggerated his frustration with an unfair call. The hotdog he’d been holding flew out of his hand as he raised his arm to flip off the ref.

“Dude, shut up,” I scolded. He couldn’t argue with every figure of authority. We were already losing without Doug as quarterback. So we didn’t need refs blaming the whole team for unsportsmanlike conduct.

That hotdog flew through the air, arcing to drop on someone a couple of rows below us.

Brooke stood up and spun to face us. “What the hell?”

Her friend, Paige, got to her feet. They’d been sitting together, and Kody’s accidental throw hit her. Paige spluttered as the ketchup and mustard clung to her face and hair.

“What’s your problem, Kody?” Paige shouted.

My brother glanced over and shrugged. “Oh, don’t be a baby. Just wipe it off.”

“It’ll stain,” Brooke protested, already offering Paige napkins to dab it clean.

“I don’t care.” Kody shrugged. “It’s not like it’s a big deal. You can wipe it off.”

“You’re an asshole,” Paige shouted.

I’d never heard her raise her voice. I winced. Unlike Kody, I knew she was pissed.

“What, you’ve never had a wiener in your face before, Paige?” another classmate jeered. Laughter followed. “It’s like Kody said, whatever you can’t swallow, wipe it off.”

Together, the friends left the bleachers. Paige stomped down each metal level, and Brooke held their coats.

Damn.

“I didn’t say that,” Kody argued hotly as the girls left. But he didn’t pay much attention if anyone heard him. His focus was already back on the game. “That’s a foul!” he yelled at the ref.

He hadn’t thrown that hot dog at them on purpose, but I hated that he couldn’t care to check on them. He’d dismissed it to focus on the game, and I knew that wasn’t right.

It wasn’t my job to clean up after his mistakes. As I watched Brooke and Paige leave the bleachers, a gnawing pressure of guilt ate at me.

No one chased after them. Not a parent, not a teacher. They must have come on their own, but still, not a single person could follow them and offer help?

Then I will. Dad liked to joke that since I was such a softie, Kody had to retaliate by being that much more of a jerk. A yin and yang sort of logic.

When I was young, Mom used to praise me, reminding me that compassion was an important trait the world would always need more of.