Chapter 17 #2
“I just want to be there for him. That’s the only way I can explain it, okay? I feel... really bad for him. And it’s not just a sympathy kind of friendship, okay? It’s more than that.”
Mason squints at me. “I get it, but don’t push him, okay? He’s really been through a lot, and he’s probably pretty vulnerable right now.”
I want to be angry at Mason for implying I’m not good at respecting boundaries, but I know that’s not what he means. He’s just being protective of Logan, and I understand why.
“He’s just... really cool, okay? And nice, and funny, and I don’t know... I just feel drawn to being his friend. Is that a good enough explanation for you?”
I feel out of breath by the time it’s finally my turn to order.
I get a pretzel and order Twizzlers for Mason, so he has his cover.
Mason huffs. “I just want you to be careful. Logan is sensitive, and with his ex dating Joel... I don’t want him getting hurt again after everything with his injury. He’s been through enough.”
I take a bite of my pretzel. “So you did know about his injury.”
Mason nods. “Of course. I’m dating the quarterback, remember? I hear about everything that happens on that team.”
We make our way back to our seats, and Logan and Jenna are in the middle of some animated conversation.
“But not all hornets are boys, and not all bees are girls. They can both be—”
Jenna cuts off her heated discussion with Logan. “Oh, hi.”
“I got my Twizzlers,” Mason says as he scoots past me and into his seat.
“You all pretzeled up?” Logan asks me with a shy smile.
I nod. “Yep. I would’ve gotten a second one for you, but…”
“I already told you I’m fine. I don’t want you to spend more money on me than you have to.”
He smacks my shoulder affectionately, and my skin prickles at the contact.
“Fine, but I'd better not see you get up to buy food during halftime,” I counter.
Logan chuckles but doesn’t say anything else.
“You want a Twizzler?” Mason asks, holding out the bag and giving it a shake.
Logan shakes his head. “I’m good. Thanks, Mason.”
Mason nods and sinks back into his seat.
“So, do you think they’re going to win?” I ask Logan.
He nods. “We almost always win.” Logan licks his lips and glances down at his lap. “Uh—they almost always win.”
I nudge him lightly. “You can still say ‘we.’ The Hornets represent Montgomery.”
The corners of his mouth lift. “I guess you’re right.”
“Well, as long as Callum is QB, we’re always going to win, I think,” Jenna says.
“You got that right,” Mason says, smiling at her.
The two of them start talking about Craig, Callum, and the lucky charms they have before games.
More spectators pile into the rows around us, and I can feel the electricity buzzing through the crowd as the stands fill up.
A few girls toot plastic horns at each other farther down the row, and a group of guys dressed in hornet costumes squeeze into the section below us.
I turn to Logan and find him watching the crowd as everyone settles in, his eyes scanning each person like he’s waiting for their reaction when they notice him.
“How are you feeling about all of this?” I ask.
He inhales slowly. “Okay. It’s weird being in the crowd, for sure, but it’s cool to be on the outside looking in. I don’t feel the stress I used to feel when I was on the field.”
Logan shifts in his seat and focuses on an ad for the campus bookstore playing on the Jumbotron.
I can tell something’s wrong, but he’s not saying anything.
Maybe coming here was a bad idea. I know he asked me to come, but maybe I should’ve offered to do something else with him instead.
“What is it?”
He shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
I know he’s not so interested in the campus store’s sweater and pencil case sales that he can’t acknowledge me.
“Logan, I’m here to listen.”
He blows out a breath and focuses on his lap. “It makes me feel bad, if I’m being honest.”
I tense. “Bad?”
He nods. “Just... knowing that I used to be on the field, and now I’m relegated to... spectator. I’m on the outside, like I always will be. Forever.”
I grab his arm, trying to be gentle and ignore the electricity coursing through my hand at the contact.
“Do you want to go?”
He shakes his head. “No. I have to get used to this. If I avoid it, I’m always going to feel like this, and I’ll never come to a game again. I don’t want that.”
I nod. “Okay. But you can tell me if you want to leave, okay? Whenever you want.”
He nods. “Thanks, Alex.”
His gaze drops to my hand still resting on his arm, and I instinctively pull it away, clearing my throat as I look back toward the field.
“You’ve got to be kidding me...” Logan mutters.
I glance at him. “What?”
He angles his chin a couple of rows down, and I spot a girl dressed in maroon and gold with a high ponytail making her way through the stands.
He tries to look away, but I can tell she’s already spotted him.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
Logan seems to sink even farther into his seat than before. “My ex, Mikayla.”
I whip my head back in her direction, watching as she saunters down her row as if she owns it.
“That’s Mikayla?” I ask.
“Yeah. I knew she’d be here, but... not right here.”
I place a hand on his shoulder, and he seems to relax slightly.
Music starts blaring, and the crowd buzzes with excitement.
Each player is announced onto the field, greeted by eruptions of cheers from the spectators, while highlight videos flash across the Jumbotron.
Logan lets out loud hollers and claps as videos of Callum Brown, Kai Hudson, and Craig Monteith appear on the screen.
Mason and Jenna do the same.
The players burst through a paper Hornets banner, and the crowd erupts as the team storms onto the field.
“Woo! Let’s go, boys!” Logan hollers.
Even though I know next to nothing about football, I feel just as excited as Logan, Mason, and Jenna as they cheer on their loved ones.
Football has that power, and it’s clear Logan still has that fire in him.
I settle into my seat, and as the game goes on, I find myself watching Logan’s reaction to every touchdown, fumble, and big play.
I don’t want to miss a second of that smile on his face any longer.
“I can’t believe we won in that much of a landslide!” Mason cheers as we exit the stadium.
“That throw Callum gave to Craig was perfection,” Jenna squeals.
Logan grabs my shoulders from behind. I jolt at the sudden touch, but suddenly want nothing more than to have his hands on me at all times like this.
“Do you feel that? That rush of winning a football game yet, Fields?” Logan says, massaging my shoulders playfully.
“Uh oh,” Mason says knowingly, glancing at Logan.
“What?” Logan asks, taking his hands off me.
Memories of Fiona referring to me only by my last name in the newsroom come rushing back.
I spin around and frown at him. “Don’t call me by my last name.”
Logan pales. “Alex, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”
I wave a hand dismissively. “It’s okay. I only care when Fiona does it.”
Logan nods, still looking at me like I might snap at him. “Noted.”
I relax, taking in the buzz of the crowd as they spill out of the stadium in a wave of rowdiness.
“So what did you think?” Logan asks.
I shrug. “It was pretty fun, I have to admit.”
Logan beams. “It was. I didn’t even realize how much fun it could be to watch my teammates play from up there. It’s so stressful on the sidelines. Up there, it was so much better.”
I smile at Logan. He seems genuinely happy he went, and I’m glad the smile he had when the game started still hasn’t left his face.
“I think we should celebrate,” Logan says to the three of us.
“How so?” I ask.
“We get some fries at Davey’s,” Logan says.
“Let’s do it,” I say, trying to hide my widening smile.
Mason winces. “I want to, but I can’t. I’m sorry. I have to finish a paper by midnight. Next time, okay?”
Jenna opens her mouth. “I could—”
“Jenna has a paper to do, too. Come on, let’s go,” Mason says, interrupting her.
Jenna frowns. “I don’t have a paper—”
“Shh,” Mason interrupts.
“We’ll see you guys later. Let’s do this again,” Mason says to Logan and me.
“For sure. Next time, we should dress up more,” Logan says.
Mason squints. “Maybe. See ya.”
Mason and Jenna leave with their arms interlinked.
I gesture toward the exit. “Lead the way to Davey’s.”
Logan beams. “Gladly.”
Logan apparently had the same idea as everyone else who watched the game, because Davey’s is packed with people dressed in maroon and gold.
Logan puts a hand on my shoulder and points to an empty booth. “You go get a seat, and I’ll get us some fries.”
I look down at his hand, then meet his eyes. His green eyes almost sparkle under the eatery's fluorescent lights, and he could probably ask me to do anything, and I would do it if he kept looking at me like that.
I clear my throat. “Uh—sure.”
He pats my shoulder softly before heading to the line.
I blow out a long breath as I slump into the booth.
As much as I enjoy hanging out with Logan, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep denying how he makes me feel.
He’s getting touchier, and according to Mason, most football players are like that. But I can’t keep letting him do it, or I might develop some kind of grade-school crush on him if I’m not careful.
I tap my fingers on the table and watch the hordes of people file into the diner.
“…you still fumbled the ball. Fumbles aren’t in your vocabulary, son.”
Joel and Mikayla make their way into the diner, with what looks like Joel’s parents right behind them.
Joel’s dad seems very intent on explaining that Joel played a bad game, even though the Hornets won.
“And if you’re going to be going up against that fairy Callum in the draft, then you’re gonna have to make them pay more attention to you for the things you don’t fumble,” I hear Joel’s dad whisper as they pass by.
I turn my face away so they don’t notice me, and I just hope they don’t notice Logan either.
I’d love to tell Joel and his dad that Callum is the reason the Hornets win so much, and that just because he likes guys doesn’t mean he’s any less capable. But I’m not here to cause a scene.