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She rattles off questions at dizzying speed, thankfully creating an opportunity for me to pick which one I care to answer. “Um, well, I live in town, and—"
John’s fingers graze my back, edging us further from the line.
“Is this your husband?” Ginny puts out her hand.
John reaches around me and shakes it. “Hi, I’m John.”
“It’s so good to meet you!” She twirls around, snagging a man who’s walked up. The diamond on her ring finger sparkles against his sleeve as she introduces him as her husband.
“Hollie, I was just talking about you the other day.” She turns. “Honey, remember the story I told you about the puppy? This is her.” She spins again to John. “Has she told you the puppy story?”
Stoic John looks to be doing his best to hold back a laugh. Ginny could talk the paint off a wall back in school, and nothing has changed. “No, don’t believe I’ve heard that one.”
And now most assuredly is not the time—but I’ve no control over this conversation. At least Ginny’s moved it along to safer topics.
“Remember, Hollie? We’d just gotten back from cheerleading camp and neither of us felt like going home. I’d just gotten my license, and we went driving around.” She addresses John. “We passed the animal shelter and decided to go in and look. There was the most adorable little puppy. We wanted him so bad, but I knew my parents would never go for it. Hollie figured she could probably talk hers into it, so we took the puppy to her house and she told them he was a stray we found abandoned along the side of the road.”
I feel John’s fingers tap my back, and there’s the vaguest suggestion of a laugh in his throat.
I recall the day in question clearly. Not because I got into horrible trouble for lying, but because it was one of the last good, innocent times. Little did I know what the next bend in the road held. And now, part of me would like nothing more than to catch up with my old friend. The other part of me…there’s too much I don’t care to explain.
As if he knows my thoughts, John speaks up. “Hey, I hate to cut in, but we don’t want to miss kickoff. Maybe you two can set up a time to get together.”
Ginny makes sure we exchange numbers, then hugs me and moves along.
My lungs release a long-held breath.
“Here you go.”
Blinking, I look down at the printed rectangle poking from John’s fingers. “I was going to buy my own ticket.” And his.
He smirks. “And I bought it instead.” He flaps the air with the ticket until I claim it. Arguing feels pointless.
As we move toward the entrance. John’s hand on the small of my back surprises me—but not as much as the fact I don’t scoot away.
He inclines his head closer to my ear, our shoulders grazing in the process. “Along the side of the road, huh?”
I scowl up. “Don’t you dare tell Jacob.”
Finally, he lets out the laugh he’s been holding in since Ginny blew onto the scene. The sound floats around in my chest like a bubble of warmth.
His hand at my waist of my jeans, the way he hovers at my side, make me feel like part of anus.
It’s not too chilly yet, so my jacket is draped over my arm in front of me. I side-eye John as we make our way through the crowd. He carries himself with confidence and authority. His height, coupled with a lean and fit build, draw attention. A five o’clock shadow has broken out across his square jaw. The dark three-quarter zip sweater he wears fits perfectly and shows off how in-shape he is. Even a guy in his twenties has to work out a bunch to maintain that kind of physique.
The seats we find adjoin the student section. I don’t see anyone I know. Most of the other team parents hold season tickets, and that section has a perfect view from the fifty-yard line. I cast my gaze across the green field. The thirty-yard line isn’t too bad a spot.
The marching band and drill team are lined up in the endzone where an inflated football helmet serves as a gateway for the team to make a grand entrance at any moment.
A video! I dig my phone out of my purse and unlock it. The touchscreen freezes. Yep, my six-year-old device is as reliable lately as my car. I lock the screen, try again, and get a repeat.
“What’s wrong?”
“My stupid phone is messing up. I want a video…” My fingers panic over the screen as I see the team gathering behind the sign. I’m going to miss the moment!
Anothermoment.
Blue and white clad players bust through to the trumpeting and drumming of the band.At least you saw it this time, Hollie.
