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“You’re such a good friend.”
Soon enough, Tony leads us through the entrance the football players exit through to get onto the field, and the students are a blustering murmur of excitement as we get out on the field and are met with the entirety of the Chicago Rebels football team.
And, unsurprisingly, my eyes manage to go to the one player I know all too well.
The men aren’t in their uniforms, of course, but are all in various styles of workout gear. My heart trips in my chest at the sight of Caden with a black headband to keep the longer strands of his dirty blonde hair out of his face. A tight, full sleeved Under Armor shirt fits his arms beneath the shorter sleeves of his Rebels shirt, along with athletic shorts and kneepads.
Immediately, I am too aware of my blood running warm. I am too aware of his eyes meeting mine through the crowd of students and teachers separating us. His eyes lock me in place, even from about twenty feet away, as he tugs his bottom lip into his mouth for a moment. The heat in his eyes dries my throat. I miss students being introduced to the team and to Coach Scott, my gaze seemingly glued on Caden even as he has to break our gaze to greet the students. I shove my hands in the pockets of my coat, and next to me, Tina lets out a quiet chuckle.
In a whisper below the noise of the students, she leans towards me and says, “Told you—bedroom eyes.”
My cheeks flush and I shoot her a wide-eyed look of silence, which only makes her snicker quietly. For the next little while, I stand with the rest of the teachers as the team talks with the students and Coach Scott even set up some drills for the students to do with the team. I spot some photographers who are snapping photos, which we knew would happen since parents were sent a consent form along with the permission slips for the field trip to sign for this.
I want to watch the whole team playing with the students, but my gaze keeps zeroing in on Caden. I watch as he does some exercise that has them running and jumping over big truck tires, one foot at a time. He demonstrates it for the students, doing it so freaking effortlessly that it has me biting the inside of my bottom lip as I watch him. One foot after the other, he doesn’t even seem to breaking a sweat. When he is done, he turns to the line of a dozen or so students waiting to follow his lead, claps his hand once, and calls out for the first one to go.
“Girl,” Tina muses, arms crossed as she stands next to me, shaking her head. “Good for you for bagging that.”
I scoff, throwing her a look. “I didn’tbaganything,” I remind her.
She huffs out a breath. We both watch as Caden claps when the first student finishes the exercise, grinning as he gives her a high five before waving the next one forward. “I don’t see why not,” she murmurs. We aren’t standing near any of the other teachers, but she is careful to talk quietly, which I appreciate. “You both obviously like each other enough to be sleeping together—for months, might I add. What’s the hesitation?”
This time, I’m the one huffing out a laugh, a mildly incredulous expression crossing my face. “Do you see where we are?” I ask, lightly gesturing to the area around us. It’s bright as hell in the stadium, of course, given that it is early in the morning and the sun is high above the open stadium. The seats of the stadium are empty, of course, but it isn’t lacking in personnel. Pictures and videos are being taken of the Rebels with a bunch of high school seniors, and I’m sure all of them will end up on the team’s social media pages, maybe even in the sports section of the local papers. For a high school field trip, there is so much going on. I can’t even imagine during other events the team has to do, not even counting the games.
I shake my head. “All of this is. . . Way out of my league,” I whisper. “I can’t handle any of this. And I don’t want Elaine to have to deal with it, either.”
Tina is silent for a moment. I glance at her, and she twists her lips to the side as she watches everyone else. A thoughtful look crosses her face for a moment before she murmurs, “No offense, Daria, but I think that’s a bit of a cop out.” I blink in surprise, and she shrugs, lips pressing together in a small apologetic smile. “I mean, you don’t want to go for it because, what, you’re afraid of what other people will say?”
I purse my lips. “It’s valid ifother peopleis the whole country.” The Rebels are a Super Bowl winning team, with eyes on the players all of the time. Especially starter players—like Caden.
Tina frowns a little. “You don’t think it’d be worth it? To be with him?”
My chest tightens at her question, staring ahead at the man in question. Caden is smiling at every kid that finishes the exercise, giving high fives all around, and helping out some students who are struggling. Something flutters and tightens in my chest at the same time, and I struggle to figure out what the hell it is that I am feeling. “I never. . .” I clear my throat, licking my lips as I drop my gaze to the turf in front of us. “I never said I wanted to be with him.”
The words taste horribly bitter in my mouth, eyebrows pulling together as I curl my fingers into my palms in the pockets of my coat. It’s not a lie—I never did say I want to be with Caden--not in a romantic relationship, anyway.
But fuck me, just because I haven’t admitted it out loud to anyone else, doesn’t mean it’s not entirely true, is it? It doesn’t mean that I don’t sometimes feel myself falling for him in certain moments, despite knowing it’s not what we agreed on. A fun, casual, no strings attached arrangement that gave us both what we wanted—that’sthe deal we made all those months ago. So, why am I trying to fuck it up by recognizing the feelings I know exist deep in my heart, or labeling the sensations he brings out in me as something more than just physical attraction?
I chew on my lower lip as I lift my gaze and, of course, it finds Caden’s. He is already looking at me, like he can sense the turmoil going on in my head and hurt. And it’s subtle, the way he lifts his chin and furrows his eyebrows to silently ask me, from where he stands, if I’m okay. And I feel it happen—I feel myself fall for him a little bit more in that moment.
If it keeps happening, I’m fucked. And I don’t know how I’m going to really deal with it.
10
CADEN
Iwatch absently as the numbers on the small elevator screen decrease as it goes lower and lower, taking a long sip of my coffee from the thermos. It’s not too early in the morning, a little after nine thirty, and I have already been up for a few hours, killing time until I had to go to the airport to pick up Dad. It is a relatively uneventful, mundane morning, until the elevator stops on an all too familiar floor, and when the doors open, my grip on the thermos tightens as Daria and her daughter come into view.
My chest inexplicably tightens at the sight of Daria, wrapped up in a jacket and beanie, holding Elaine’s hand who is dressed the same. Daria gives me a smile in greeting as they enter the lift and Elaine tilts her head all the way back to look up at me and grin, adorably wide and toothy.
“Hi, Caden!” she greets, her chirpy voice bouncing off the walls of the elevator. Despite the tension tightening in the elevator as the doors slide shut, the smile on my face comes easily for Elaine.
“Hey, kid. Where are you off to?”
It’s Sunday, so she doesn’t have daycare and Daria doesn’t have work. And although my question was, pettily enough, directed at Elaine, it’s Daria who answers. “We’re getting breakfast with Bianca and Tina.”
I nod, teeth tightening. I don’t look towards her to my right, and instead face the elevator doors ahead of us. When it comes to Daria, I have been feeling. . . Out of sorts since the day she came with her high school students to the stadium for the field trip. That had been earlier this week, and since then, we haven’t seen much of each other. She has been busy with work, as have I, and I didn’t go out of my way to go to her apartment and see her. Not when I can’t seem to have my head on straight. Not when it stings when I think about her.
Part of me knows I shouldn’t be so put off by the whole situation of Daria asking me to pretend like I don’t know her during the field trip. I mean, that’s how it’s been for us for the better part of a year. We don’t go out in public together, not even as a friendly outing. She is comfortable with the world not knowing a thing about her, even so far as just being my friend. I understand her taking caution and protecting herself and her daughter. I understand how the most innocent things can be torn apart and scandalized by the media vultures. Igetall of it.
