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Every time Hunter gets hit, I flinch. I’ve always hated it. Whenever he goes down, I have a moment where I can't breathe out of fear that he won’t get back up. He's a big reason why I get out of bed most days, and if I don’t have my brother, I’m truly alone.
After he gets hit the third time, the crowd wincing with me, I suddenly feel a comforting weight on my knee. Looking down, I see Riley’s big hand on my knee, his thumb rubbing little circles. I stop breathing for a second, unsure of how to react to this. Do I put my hand on his knee? Do I look at him or pretend like it’s not happening? Do I say thank you?
Such a small thing, but no one has ever done anything like this. I’ve seen it in movies, but never in real life, not with me.
I choose to not react and focus on the game.
When Hunter finally scores, the crowd stands up and screams, as do I, clapping my hands and jumping.
When I go to sit, I feel Riley staring at me. His brows are raised as if surprised by my cheering and support for the team, for my brother. Looking at him, I cannot imagine this man getting up and cheering or doing anything wacky. I don’t even think he has it in him, but I'm curious, so out of impulse, I take off my wig and without a word, I pop it on his head.
He just sits there, stunned, blinking back at me. I sit back to admire my handiwork before I let out a big laugh that draws the attention of a few people nearby.
He stares at me as I continue to laugh for a few more seconds before his face breaks, a big smile appearing that shows his white straight teeth as he, too, lets out a big laugh I never thought I would hear. I’m stunned silent as I watch him throw his head back, laughing loudly before shaking his head.
I cock my head at him, poking his shoulder playfully with my finger. “So you do know how to laugh.”
He starts to calm down, the laughter still in his eyes as he looks back at me. “I’m not a robot, Mia.”
I shrug. “Could’ve fooled me.”
At that, my challenge is clear as he raises his brow, accepting the challenge, and he starts to look around us before turning to the people beside us.
In the next second, Hunter scores again, and the crowd stands. Before I can do anything, holding a red pom-pom he must have gotten from the people beside us, Riley takes it one step further as he steps up to stand on his chair and gives a loud cheer while waving his pom-pom around.
My eyes go wide as I take this in, wishing I could get my phone out to film this because there's no way the guys at the bar will believe me when I tell them. Turns out Riley has more to him than I thought.
Once the crowd starts to settle, Riley takes a step down but doesn’t sit. Instead, he makes a motion with his body, waving his hands in the air, making me scoff. “What was that?”
Still smiling, he's not bothered by the performance he put on. He hands the pom-poms to the amused group beside us with a thank you before turning back to me, leaning in again. I could get used to him being this close. “A wave. Now you gotta do it.”
“It’s not a wave with just two people.”
“Who says?” He raises a challenging brow of his own, and I purse my lips, considering when I know there is only one thing to do.
I rise from my seat to stand beside him, my eyes on his as I motion my body in a wave, him following close behind me.The world's weirdest and shortest wave yet, I think to myself, as we plop back down on the seats, both of us laughing. He removes the wig from his head, running his hand through his hair as he hands it back to me.
I take it, placing it on my head again, my blonde hair peeking out from underneath it now when Riley leans in again, asking, “So what is with the wig? You a big football fan, or just like dressing up as a clown?”
At that, I look out at the field where my brother is running, and I remember riding to the high school on my bike just to make sure that I was there to cheer Hunter on, just to make sure he had someone there. I would cheer and he would look out at the stands and smile and then proceed to play the best game.
I smile at the memory. “No, it’s just a thing that I do.” I shrug and look at Riley, who appears to be still waiting for me to continue. I sigh. “It just makes it easier for Hunter to see me in the stands. I’ve been doing this since we were kids.”
He raises an amused brow. “Dressing like a clown for your brother?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “No. Hunter has been playing football since we were kids. Our dad kind of insisted on it. But,” I pause, thinking about how I can word this, but there's no way around it, “our parents were always too busy to stay for a game. They did for the first year, but then other things took priority. Hunter got sad after a while, knowing that other kids would have their parents there, but he would have no one.”
“So you stepped up.” It's not a question, but I nod.
“Every time I would go and cheer from the stands, but Hunter found it hard to find me in the crowd, so I make sure to get a spot near the field and wear something that stands out.” I smile at Riley, pointing to my wig.
He smiles in return, nodding. “You guys are really close.”
Again, not a question, but I answer anyway. “He’s my twin. It’s been him and I since the beginning. He knows I’m always in his corner, and he’s in mine.”
His smile softens. “He’s lucky.”
Giving him a smile, I return my attention to the game, only to see the game stopped. Hunter's jogging towards his coach, who's waving his hands and shouting at him. I furrow my brow, looking over him and thankfully not seeing any visible injury, but after the coach’s rant, Hunter waves his hands dismissively and jogs off the field, throwing his helmet off as he made his way to the locker rooms.
