Page 64 of Healing Eleanor

Dillon, thankfully, stops rambling about football and stands to help. “Here, let me take that,” he says, relieving her of the nachos.

“Thanks.” Lily grins. “I can now officially report that no popcorn or nachos were harmed during my treacherous trek through the sea of teenagers.”

Dillon chuckles. “A true hero.”

Gabriel plops down beside her and shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “I think I’ve seen zombies pay more attention than half the kids down there. Faces buried in their phones—I doubt they even know they’re at a football game.”

“They’re probably just streaming it,” Dillon adds.

Lily pitches forward, peering around Dillon at me. “Eleanor, are you sure you don’t want anything?”

Dillon’s attention shifts to me too. “Yeah, I can grab you something if you’d like.”

I shudder under their gaze. The thought alone makes my stomach churn. Grease, fake cheese, processed meat. The smell alone is enough. I offer a quick smile and shake my head. “No thanks, I’m good.”

What would my mother say if she saw me eating football game food? She’d probably collapse on the spot. An early grave, courtesy of artificial cheese. I’d probably put that on her headstone.

“An almost beloved mother, killed by her daughter snacking on cheesy nachos.”

I laugh quietly to myself.

The announcer’s voice blares across the field, booming through the stadium. The game is starting.

A wave of crimson and cream bursts from the home side of the field, charging out with electric energy. On the opposite side, their rivals storm in dressed in blue and gold. The crowd erupts into cheers and chants.

Down on the sidelines, pom-poms whip in synchronized circles, and cheerleaders launching into lifts and stunts that look almost impossible. Even as a ballerina, I’m not sure I can pull off half of their tricks.

“Dillon, scooch over, will ya?” Lily blurts, already standing and ready to claim the seat next to me. “There. That’s better.” She smiles brightly.

Dillon has a sad, fleeting look in his eyes. Like he wants to sit next to me. But it’s there and gone so fast, I can’t be sure.

Lily whistles and cheers, pointing to a girl in a crimson-and-cream uniform with the curliest auburn hair I’ve ever seen. “That’s my little sister Grace. She’s a freshman here.”

“She looks so much like you,” I note.

A gust of wind sweeps through the bleachers, sending a hard shiver down my spine. I cross my ankles and hug myself tightly, hoping for warmth.

Lily looks at me like she’s trying not to laugh. “How are you even wearing that right now?” She raises a brow. “It’s like a gazillion degrees out here.”

“You can say that again,” Gabriel adds, sipping his drink. “Aren’t you hot?” he asks, turning to me.

I shrug. “Maybe I’m just cold-hearted,” I say, attempting a laugh, but I’m met with silence.

All three of them stare at me, clearly not getting the joke.

Right. This is why I don’t make jokes.

Before I have the chance to make things more awkward, Lily jumps to her feet and starts waving. “Over here!” she shouts, cupping her hands around her mouth.

Two middle-aged people spot her and begin climbing up the bleachers.

“Sorry we’re late,” the woman says, her short strawberry-blonde bob and bangs framing her face. She pulls Lily into a hug. “My last client ran a bit over.”

“That’s okay,” Lily says, moving on to hug the man with short blond hair and a matching mustache. “It started not long ago. Not much has happened yet.”

The man pats her head affectionately. “It’s good to see you, Pudding.”

He pivots to Gabriel and Dillon with a friendly nod. “Gabriel. Dillon.” Then his eyes land on me and his head tips slightly.