Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
STELLA
With Tuesday morning dawns the realization that the fun is over, and classes begin again.
It started off as an emotional weekend but ended up being relaxing and romantic.
Alex and I lazed around watching television, mostly football games, all weekend.
Part of that time was spent kissing and touching.
We also ate and talked. It was sort of perfect.
Now that Tuesday’s here, reality has also set in. Time to get back to work.
Tuesday flies by. Actually, the entire week goes really well thanks to my routine.
I go to class, go home, and work on my homework.
I do my best to get everything done before Alex picks me up so I can hang out with my man.
I giggle to myself when I think about calling him “my man.” He’s more than I ever hoped he’d be.
He’s sweet, thoughtful, funny, kind, affectionate, and sexy—really sexy.
He usually has homework too, so I can sit with him and read my psychology textbook or sketch while he works.
Sometimes, we sit in companionable silence, and it doesn’t freak me out.
I think I would worry if I just sat quietly with anyone else, but not with him.
Every once in a while, he’ll rub my leg or squeeze my hand.
Sometimes I’ll even lean over and kiss him on the lips.
He has amazing lips. I’m careful not to get too into it though.
I know he’s got to concentrate on his studies and the big game this weekend.
When he’s not in class or with me, he’s practicing, working out, and watching film.
He’s got even less time in the day to get things done than I do. I want him to focus.
Hank isn’t around very much. Since we’re usually at their place, I know he’s been hanging out at Lily’s.
I’m sure part of it is to give us some privacy, but he may also use it as an excuse to go see her.
According to Lily, her roommate is never home, so that works out.
It won’t be long, though, until Lily and I get to live together.
I’ll miss my evenings with Alex, but I’m sure we’ll see each other just as much.
We haven’t fooled around yet this week. We’ve kissed a lot, and he’s always touching me.
I think it’s okay that we haven’t done more.
Besides, I’m not sure I’m ready for more just yet.
On Friday, Alex says he wants to give me something before I head up to my room for the night. “Here.” He hands me a purple shirt.
“What’s this?” I hold up the giant top. It looks like part of his uniform or something.
“It’s my away jersey. I want you to wear it to the game tomorrow,” he’s says, beaming.
“You want me to wear this? Why?”
“Why? Because you’re my girlfriend, Stella. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
“You do? You want people to know?” I look at him doubtfully.
“Stella, of course, I do. I wouldn’t have asked you to wear this if I didn’t.”
“I would love to wear your football top.”
He laughs. “Jersey. It’s a jersey, sweetness.”
I smile. I knew it was a jersey. Now that I know football lingo a little better, I like to mess with him. He leans down and gives me a sweet good-night kiss.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Wave to me from the stands; I’ll be watching for you, Stella.”
“I will. I hope you have a great game tomorrow. Kick their asses all over that court.” I laugh so hard I have to bend over. “I’m just messing with you. I know it’s a diamond.”
He laughs that beautiful laugh that fills me up. “I’ll do my best—not because I want us to beat Iowa but because I want to impress my girl.”
“I’m already impressed by everything about you. You don’t need to do anything special.”
“Let me walk you back to your room.”
He holds my hand all the way up to my floor and kisses my cheek at the door before telling me “sweet dreams,” just like he always does.
As I get ready to sleep, my phone dings. A night doesn’t pass that Alex doesn’t send me some type of a text.
Donnie: Good night, sweet Pixie. Sleep tight.
Me: You too. I had a great time with you this week. Good luck tomorrow! I’ll be cheering you on with all of my might!
Donnie: With all of your might? We can’t lose then, angel.
Me: Good night, Alex. Get a good night’s sleep.
I’m ready for some football. Today’s game starts at eleven in the morning.
I guess I should say kickoff is at eleven.
I wake up at seven thirty to get ready since my dad will be here in an hour.
Dad wants to tailgate. He’s wanted me to come to football games with him in the past, but I wasn’t interested. Now I am.
The weather is sunny and warm, so I decide to wear shorts with his jersey.
I slide on some old cutoff jeans shorts along with a tank top to wear underneath the top.
I tried the jersey on last night, and it’s actually huge on me.
It goes down past my knees, so I need to either tie a knot in the bottom or tuck it in a little bit.
I opt for tucking. I pull a lot of it back out, so it’s not all stuffed into my shorts.
I choose my lucky purple Converse tennis shoes.
I don’t actually know if they’re lucky, but they are Wildcat colors.
I guess we’ll see after today’s game. I don’t bother with makeup since I’ll probably get hot and sweaty out there, but I do put on some clear lip gloss and mascara.
I stick my keys, ID, and some cash in my front pocket, even though I know my dad will pay for everything.
It’s impolite to assume that, even if he is my dad.
I walk out into the lounge to wait and spot my roommate and resident Leviathan standing in the kitchen.
Ugh. I just can’t deal with her today. Luckily, she’s hung over—not that it makes her any more pleasant.
I’ve come to realize that she’s much less talkative on those mornings after a long night of drinking and whatever else she does.
A quiet Brooke is the only good kind of Brooke.
Alas, she’s not going to remain silent this morning. “What the hell are you wearing?”
“It’s called a jersey,” I speak slowly since she seems to be having a tough morning.
“I know what it’s called, you twit. Is that Emerson’s jersey?”
“Well, since it says E.M.E.R.S.O.N. on the back.” I point to my back with my thumb while turning around for her to see his name. I’m facing her again in no time. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say that, yes, it is his jersey.”
“Is that his frigging away jersey?” she asks, sounding perplexed.
“Yes, yes it is.” I know I’m acting smug but who cares?
“Since when did you get to be such a smart-ass?”
“It beats being a dumb-ass,” I say, looking at her, hoping she hears the insult. Catty, I know.
“I can’t believe he’s letting you wear that today. What did you do, beg him?”
“Why would I beg him?”
“Don’t you know the significance of wearing his jersey?”
“I’m wearing his jersey because he wants me to wear it, so everyone knows I’m his girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend? You’ve got to be freaking kidding me. That’s hilarious. That guy would never, and I mean never, have you as his girlfriend.”
“Yeah, you’re right. As usual.” I nod. It feels great to mock her.
A knock on the door brings the conversation to a halt, thank goodness.
I greet my dad with a kiss on the cheek.
Brooke keeps her mouth shut. At least she can figure out that she shouldn’t be rude to parents.
My dad doesn’t even look at her. He was really nice to her when I moved in, but he probably remembers she’s the one Bradley cheated with.
While he pretends she’s not there, he asks me if I’m ready to head out.
He’s got everything packed in the cooler that we need, along with a grill for hot dogs. That’s when he notices my shirt.
“Say, isn’t that Alex’s away jersey?”
Brooke groans.
“Yes.”
“Did he ask you to wear his jersey to the game?” Dad has a look on his face like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Yep. He sure did.” I smile in Brooke’s direction.
“Wow! You know what that means, don’t you?” His grin is going to take over his face if he doesn’t watch out.
“It means that he likes me, Dad, he really likes me,” I say with a laugh. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’m ready to watch some football.”
Dad, as a donor to the school, has a parking pass for special events.
So, we get to park in the lot right next to the stadium.
While Dad sets up the grill and other tailgate necessities, I walk over to the Will Call window to pick up our tickets.
By the time I get back to our parking spot, Dad has the hotdogs on the grill.
He’s drinking a can of beer and sitting in his fold-out chair in the sun.
He’s totally decked out in purple and white—purple baseball hat, purple polo, white shorts, white tennis shoes, and purple footie socks.
Yep, purple footie socks. I’d be embarrassed, but why bother?
He’s excited to be here with me, and that alone makes me happy.
He could be painted head to toe in purple, and I wouldn’t care. Wait, I might care about that.
“Got ’em.” I wave two tickets above my head.
“Let me see.” His giddiness is contagious.
I hand him the tickets.
“Wow, these even look different than regular tickets. There’s gold leaf or something on them. Holy shit, Stella, did you see the seat numbers?”
I hadn’t paid any attention. Apparently, we are sitting on the fifty-yard line. I guess that’s a good thing.
“We’re sitting right behind the team!” he exclaims. “Best seats I’ve ever had, sweetie.”
I smile because I’m happy that he’s happy, but I’m starting to get nervous. I’m meeting his parents today. What if they don’t like me? After a little over an hour in the sun, we clean up our tailgating supplies and pack them into Dad’s SUV and head for the game.
“By the way, we’re going to be sitting with Alex’s parents. I’ve never met them, but their names are Jack and Jill,” I explain to Dad.