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At that moment, the Bobcat football players took to the field, wearing their rich blue jerseys with gold shimmering numbers. The bleachers, which were already nearly full, erupted into cheering at the sight of them, ringing bells and calling out the Bobcat chant. Rachel jumped to her feet and cheered along with the crowd, and I watched as Maisie shrank away from the railing. “I’m going to go find Jozie,” she told me—or really mouthed to me, since most of her volume was cut off by the chants and the rattling bells people rang. “I’ll catch you in a bit.”
“You should be taking pictures,” Rachel told me. Her voice was neutral, backing down from the severity we’d peaked at. “This is our last homecoming—Babble should be flooded with them.”
She was right, of course. In all honesty, I should’ve been going around now and snapping pictures of seniors in their spirit gear. It was what I’d done last year, and that post had been a big hit. Now, though, it was all I could do to pull out my cell and point it at the field. I snapped picture after picture of each football player. I snagged a shot of Connor stretching his legs on the grass and a picture of Landon pulling his arm back to throw a football. Out of all the players, their names generated the most clicks.
“How about I come over tonight after the game?” she asked, looking down at me. Her expression wasn’t as serious as it’d been moments before, but the ice hadn’t thawed between us. “We can lay everything out. Both of us.”
“You have more?” I squinted at her. “What, are you and Josh secretly dating?”
“It’s not like that,” she assured, adding an eye roll for good measure. “But…yeah, there’s more. Just like you have more, right?”
There was a ton more. We hadn’t even scratched the surface of everything that’d been piling up. But tonight, we were going to lay everything out in the open. Despite the weight of it, the fact that it was so freaking terrifying, I found myself nodding.
“Reed, my man!” a boy boomed from somewhere in the student section, and everyone around us rallied at the figure who stepped up the bleachers. He wore the same clothes he’d been wearing at Expresso’s, only now accompanied by a light jacket to fight off the late September chill. Brentwood Bobcats spirit gear, of course. He smiled at the people who greeted him, who commented on the fact that he should be on the field and not in the stands, but he didn’t say anything.
My heart squeezed at the sight of him, and it hurt even worse when his roaming gaze locked onto mine.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” Rachel said to Reed as he walked past us, putting her foot out as if she meant to trip him.
He stepped over it, stopping in front of me. “I thought I should come and support the guys.”
I pinched the material of my jeans, studiously focusing on Landon as he launched another football. Reed’s arm was in the frame of my vision, but as long as I stared at Landon, it didn’t matter.
“Are you sitting with us?” Rachel didn’t sound overly fond of the prospect; she didn’t scooch down like she’d done for Maisie. “Because I don’t think you deserve front row privileges, since this is the only game you’ve been to so far.”
“I think I see Cindy up near the top,” he replied, and my heart squeezed a little more. “I’ll sit with her.”
The football player who caught Landon’s pass threw it back to him, but it’d been too hard of a throw, and Landon couldn’t back up in time to catch it.
“I’ll see you two later, then?” It was a hesitation of a question, like he wanted to linger for a moment longer.
“Wait!” Rachel shot from her seat and latched onto Reed’s wrist, dragging him to a halt. She turned her brown puppy dog eyes to me. “Can you take our picture? Mom would love it if we got a homecoming photo of us.”
I sucked in a breath as she passed over her phone, wasting no time. Moments like this were rare between the Manning twins, but I didn’t question it. I guess even if it seemed out of character, it made sense if Rachel wanted to commemorate one of their final events together.
Rachel tugged Reed to lean against the railing with her, and she wrapped her arm around his back while he draped his over her shoulders. “Would’ve been a much better picture if you’d stuck to football,” she grumbled. “Y’know, with your jersey instead of some lame Bobcats sweatshirt.”
Reed jostled her. “Cry a river.”
“Smile,” I told them. I tried not to, but I lingered on one twin more than the other, at the way his smile was wide, but it wasn’t the same one I’d gotten used to seeing. It wasn’t the one that caused butterflies to fill my stomach, or the one that crinkled around his eyes. “Reallysmile.”
“Iam,” Rachel said through her teeth, and it was true—she was.
Reed’s half-hearted grin faltered before it stretched wide again, wide enough to crinkle around his eyes, but still not wide enough toreallytouch his eyes. Not enough to feel real.
It was like we were looking at each other through the phone, and as I snapped the photo, I was transported to a few hours earlier.You’re afraid to fall for something real. He’d spoken it so easily, like he hadn’t had to think about it. Or like hehadbeen thinking about it for a while.
But even if what he said had been true, what I had said had been true, too.You’re just afraid of someone walking away from you.
“Your mom will probably tape it on the fridge,” I said stiffly as I passed the phone back. “Send it to me. I’ll post it to Babble.”
Reed only lingered for another moment, but ended up being shuffled down the aisle when more students joined the fray. I lost him in the sea of blue and gold, and forced myself to drop my gaze.
As he walked away, and the football players were beginning to huddle on the sidelines, waiting for the buzzer to tick down, it hit me. The rest of my life would be filled with these moments. Falling silent when Reed walked past Rachel’s bedroom door, or not being able to properly pipe up during their sibling banter. When Rachel talked about her brother, a bundle of confliction would come along with her words. Family parties, birthdays, holidays—it was going to be a lifetime of learning how to stop thinking about him.
I guess we were both afraid, and there was nothing to do but let it go.
My phone chimed as Rachel sent the photo over. “Don’t forget to save some battery for the halftime show,” she told me when the players took to the field, leaning onto the balls of her feet as the starting players moved to kickoff. “Hopefully, since it’s our senior year, it’s epic.”
