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Stadium acoustics. Metal. Concrete. Echoes.

That was all.

The crowd reacted to something I missed.

“First down,” Sadie said.

“I saw.”

Her eyes slid toward me. “You absolutely did not.”

I smiled faintly.

Another voice carried from the field. Too clear. I looked for whoever had spoken.

The play started before I found them.

Noise rolled over us. I took a drink of water.

Another whistle. Behind me this time.

I turned.

A girl carrying nachos walked past.

No official. No coach.

Nothing that should have whistled.

Something about it bothered me. Not frightened me.

Bothered.

Like a word spelled almost correctly.

Close enough to read. Wrong enough that your eye kept returning to it.

I looked back toward the field.

A coach shouted, “Move!”

The word came from somewhere under the stands.

Too low for the field.

My eyes went to the service corridor. Empty except for a maintenance cart.

I blinked. Football. Crowd. Sadie beside me.

Normal.

I rubbed my thumb over the cold bottle.

“Want to go back up?” Sadie asked.

“Yeah.”

We started toward the stairs. Three steps.