Page 186 of On His Team

I stand there for a second with the water bottle in my hand.

Stanley has been pretending not to listen. He fails, taking another bite of pasta. “He doesn’t know.”

“Be quiet, Stan.”

He grins.

I go upstairs.

The game is not for another five hours. That sounds like a long time until I get into my room and realize how tired I am. I set my alarm for ninety minutes, lie down on top of the blanket, and wake up sixty-eight minutes later before the alarm goes off.

My phone is on the mattress beside me. There’s a message from Gianna. A picture. The group photo from the clinic. Forty-eight kids in jerseys, volunteers behind them, sponsor banner along the boards. The rows are uneven. One kid is looking sideways. Somebody in the front is holding a stick upside down.

It looks real. That’s what stands out. Not like a class project. Not like something a sophomore did because a professor told her to. Real.

I zoom in and find Gianna near the side. She’s smiling. She looks happy.

I text her.

Me: Good picture.

Her answer comes immediately.

Gianna: BEST PICTURE EVER TAKEN!

Me: One kid isn’t looking

Gianna: I blame his mother.

I laugh.

Gianna: Nap?

Me: Just woke up.

Me: You?

Gianna: Showering then heading back.

Me: You’re going early?

Gianna: I work here, babe.

I stare at the last word. Not because it is some giant thing. Because she has not called me that before.

I read it again.

Me: Right.

Three dots appear.

Gianna: Wow.

Gianna: Did you forget?

I smile.

Me: No.