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“What are you guys doing over here?” Charlie asks, lumbering over to the bleachers.
“Just discussing how Wes is letting Maeve Stevens get inside his head.” Chris doesn’t hesitate to throw me under the bus, and I glare at him. He shrugs.
“I am not, for the record,” I tell Chris emphatically as Adam joins us.
“This have anything to do with why our meeting earlier was mysteriously moved to a time that didn’t conflict with the Glenmont girls’ soccer game?” Adam questions.
I didn’t expect anyone to put together the real reason I changed the time. “You’re keeping track of the Glenmont girls’ soccer schedule?”
“Caroline mentioned it to Josh.”
“Huh.” I employ my usual non-answer.
“I heard they won,” is Charlie’s contribution.
“Yeah, they did,” I reply unnecessarily.
“And… did you talk to her?” Chris asks.
“Of course not.”
“Why not?”
“Uh—because we just broke up?”
“Was Crawford there?” Charlie asks.
“Not that I saw.”
“He’s probably going to make another move on her, Cole.”
I’m seriously regretting ever filling my friends in on what started the strife between Maeve and me. Because Charlie’s words prompt a new pang of regret. And make me glad I’m about to be in a position to cream Crawford along with the rest of Glenmont’s team.
“Let’s go,” I say, turning and striding toward the bus. We’re the final players to board. I take the same seat I always do at the very back, and then we pull out of the parking lot, headed toward Glenmont.
The absent excitement finally appears. Not because I’m growing closer to the game, but because I’m growing closer to her.
Glenmont’s parking lot is packed when the bus pulls up. We file off one by one. Coach Blake doesn’t say anything as I pass him to lead the team out onto the field, but he claps me on the back.
When we appear on the field, it’s to a barrage of boos. Alleghany fans are out in force, but they’re no match for the packed home crowd. The demeaning sound fuels me the same way it does at every away game. Adrenaline pumps through my system.
It’s expected: the noise, the crowded stands, the electric atmosphere.
What’s not expected? The solitary speck of royal blue among the sea of maroon comprising the Glenmont side.
I freeze as soon as I see it. I never asked for my extra jersey back after the night we first had sex. I would have bet money it hadn’t survived through the tumult of this past week.
And yet there Maeve Stevens sits, wearing my blue jersey in a sea of Glenmont fans. She’s seated only a few rows back from the field. I can see my number emblazoned on the front from here.
Chris lets out a low whistle as he comes to a stop next to me. The rest of the team keeps walking, although there are a number of glances back at me. “That’s one hell of a gesture, Cole.”
Maeve’s choice of attire is drawing plenty of attention from both sides of the field. I see Liam Stevens glancing between us. Matt Crawford is giving me a death glare. And I’m still stupefied. I can’t believe she did this.
“So… you standing here like a statue is not exactly inspiring confidence you’re ready for this game,” Chris adds. “She’s probably going to regret wearing your jersey if you’re too busy imitating a figurine to actually play.”
The zeal and zest I’ve been missing all day finally appears in full force. “Oh, I’m ready, Fields.” I give him a confident smirk as I start to jog toward the bench.
The face-off with Liam Stevens and Matt Crawford for the coin toss is awkward, to say the least. Even the referee looks uncomfortable with the palpable tension as I call tails. Especially when the coin doesn’t come up as the heads Stevens called. It’s a small victory, one that will likely end up being meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but it’s a win, nonetheless.
