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Sebastianshocksme—shockseveryone,by going a full two weeks without getting into trouble at school. I mean, technically it’s really just eight days, since one of those days is a school spirit day, and the second Monday is a PD day. I should have pushed for three weeks.
Still, I’m not too bitter about it. I think it really was a huge challenge for him. And there’s a part of me that likes seeing how thrilled he is with himself for achieving something that, for anyone else, is just a normal expectation.
He’s doing better with his schoolwork, too; definitely working hard during our tutoring sessions. It’s obvious he’s really trying. But it’s also obvious he’s struggling. I’m noticing more and more how easily he forgets the simplest things. Entire interactions sometimes. And I don’t think it’s just the ADHD. This is more than that. But the two times I try bringing it up, he gets really defensive. I mean,reallydefensive. He shuts me right out, and it’s totally not like him. I have no idea if it’s because he’s embarrassed or in denial or just really private about that side of his struggles, but it worries me a little. Because go figure, I’ve gone and started caring about the guy.
There, I said it. I care about Sebastian Murdoch.
I’ve started looking forward to our tutoring sessions and our time together. He makes me laugh. But also, I kind of like the way he approaches everything. His outlook on life, I guess. And I never, ever thought I would say that about any of the SH Prep cool kids. Definitely not the leader of the ruling elite. But he’s won me over. I can let down my guard when I’m with him… in some ways, even more than I do with Maggs and Hayden. I think it’s because he totally sees me—like, really sees me—for who I am. And it’s not that he likes me despite of how weird I am, he seems to like mebecauseof it. He genuinely loves hearing about all the quirky facts I unintentionally memorize then regurgitate at the weirdest times. It’s almost like he’s in awe of my love of academics and my need to do well at everything. And even though he’s baffled by it, he tries really hard to respect my apprehension about being around large groups of people. Which goes against his natural instincts, because Sebastian Murdoch thrives in large groups. He attracts a crowd as unintentionally as I memorize quirky facts. We are complete opposites, and I think we are both fascinated by that.
I can’t believe it sometimes, when I take a moment to take stock of where I’m at with a goal I set out to achieve only a few weeks ago. I’m working two jobs and not just handling the social interactions that come with that, but kind of rocking at it. Well, by my standards anyway. And the funds are quickly accumulating in my bank account toward the total I need to front my amount of the tuition for my final term of high school. I just have a few more weeks until I need to submit payment and confirm my spot at Braden Hall, and I’m on track to reach my target. Honestly, it’s kind of shocking how quickly the last few weeks have flown by. And I never thought I would hear myself saying something like that about time spent at a school I’ve detested for years.
And tonight, I’m going to my first high school football game. Crazy, right?
The morning of the game, Sebastian is waiting for me at my locker when I arrive at school. I think he had an early practice or something with the team.
“Wait for me. After the game, alright?” he says, forearm resting casually along the top of the metal door. His thumb starts tapping. “I’ll come meet you.” He grins. “You know… find out how it feels to no longer be a football virgin.”
I roll my eyes. Also, totally blush. Apparently just the word “virgin” around him is enough to reduce me to blushing schoolgirl levels.
“You’ll be busy celebrating with the team, and all your friends and stuff,” I tell him. “I’ll see you Sunday afternoon, anyway. For tutoring.”
“Jesus. Would you just come meet me after the game? Please? On the field by the tunnel.”
This feels like something I’d expect him to say to one of the many girls his name has been linked to during his first few weeks at SH Prep, not to someone like me. I’ve come to accept that he genuinely likes hanging out with me; that I like hanging out with him. But that’s during our tutoring sessions, or the couple of times we’ve headed to Scoopies afterwards for ice cream nachos, or once even to Helicina Cove, where he wanted me to show him all the stuff you can find in the tidepools and what they all were. But him wanting me to come meet him after his football game feels… different. Like something more than all those other times we’ve hung out.
I’m sure it’s not. I’m sure it’s just another one of those “normal high school things” that feels weird to me just because it’s so foreign in my world. But still, it makesmefeel different. It bumps up my anticipation for this evening, even more than it already was. Because I have all kinds of feelings about the game tonight. Nervousness, mostly. Because of the crowds, and because of the whole unknown aspect of the outing… watching Sebastian out on the field doing what he loves best, meeting up with Maggs outside of Board and Brews… There are a lot of things about this evening that have a whole harem of butterflies taking up residence in my stomach.
But with the way his lips quirk, gifting me that stupid dimple I hate to love, I know it won’t be the last time I step outside of my comfort zone for him.
Maggs picks me up shortly before six, and the parking lot is already packed when we get to the stadium, even though the game doesn’t start until seven. It’s definitely not just a SH Prep crowd either; it seems as if the entire population of Sandy Haven has converged here tonight. And all the smaller neighboring towns, too. Maybe Sebastian was right: it’s possible mine really is the only family within a fifty-mile radius that doesn’t attend the Friday night games religiously.
The atmosphere as soon as we step out of the car is almost palpable; charged and electric and right on the cusp of chaos. The combination of loud music and crowds has always made me uncomfortable. I get more uneasy the more everyone else feels keyed up. Another one of my attributes that makes me so weird compared to every other normal human being my age.
I wonder how Sebastian is feeling right now. Is he nervous? Excited? Stressed?
All these people are counting on him to bring home another win. I mean, yes, technically they’re relying on the entire team, but mostly on him. I know virtually nothing about this whole football thing, but I do know Sandy Haven hasn’t won the state championship in years. And since Sebastian Murdoch rolled back into town, they’ve done nothingbutwin. There’s no way that isn’t a lot of pressure. Even for a guy as confident as Sebastian. And tonight’s game will determine if they make it to the finals.
“Let’s go say hey to Silas and Jax,” Maggs practically yells, so I can hear her over the pounding music and chants and excited chatter of the crowd.
“Oh, whoa…” I say, when I spot the bright yellow food truck parked just before the entrance to the bleachers.
“Told you it’s impossible to miss,” Maggie laughs.
The Board and Brews crew have all told me about “Trudy”, the camper slash food truck Jax took on the road last summer, when she found Silas passed out on her mattress her very first night—and then “coerced him into joining her for eight weeks” once she learned his aunt and uncle had kicked him out. Silas’ exact words. Not that I think he’s complaining. It obviously worked out okay for him.
I spot the two of them standing at the busy order window, Jax working cash and Silas preparing the food. There’s a lineup all along the fence bordering one side of the massive parking lot. They must be making insane money.
Maggs and I wait in line for about ten minutes and when we reach the window, we chat briefly with Jax before ordering. She promises us she’ll come join us once the game starts. “Seb told us to sit in the middle of section C,” she says. “He asked me to watch out for you guys.”
He did?
My stomach does that fluttery thing again. My life these past couple of weeks is ridiculously unfamiliar to me.
“You gonna join us, Silas?” Maggs asks her foster brother.
“Silas doesn’t do football games,” Jax mocks. “It goes against the whole death and darkness vibe he’s perfecting.”
“He doesn’t do football games,” Silas drawls, referring to himself in the third person but still managing to still sound badass, “because he’s worried he’d either die of boredom or get steamrolled by the overwhelming mass of canned All-American toxic culture.”
