Chapter 1 Birthday #3
PS: Please don’t lose this note, as it might result in my being suspended and/or expelled.
PPS: now that you’re 18, you might actually be held accountable for this stuff … so keep that in mind. Happy birthday!
“You are crazy,” Wally laughs, looking at Hannah. “What if someone had found that?”
“That’s why I didn’t sign it,” Hannah says.
“Han, it would take about two seconds for anyone in this school to figure it out,” Clay says exasperatedly. “Who else would give Baker a note like that?”
“Nobody,” Baker says, taking the note back. “Only Hannah.”
The temperature drops to the low forties that night.
Hannah watches Wally squeeze his shoulders tight together as they walk into the football stadium.
She burrows her hands into her jacket pockets and clutches the warm screen of her cell phone, feeling it vibrate with a new text message, knowing that it’s Baker wondering where she is.
“You want something from concessions?” Wally asks her.
“I’m good.”
“You sure? I’m getting a Coke. You want one, too?”
“All right,” she says, reaching for her wallet.
“Don’t,” Wally says, lightly knocking her arm. “My treat.”
They hike up the stands with their drinks in their hands, the paper cup burning Hannah’s fingers with cold.
The sea of people around them—students, parents, siblings—moves like one mass in response to the game.
Hannah climbs upward until she spots Baker in the middle of a row, her dark hair reflecting the light of the stadium lampposts.
“Here,” Hannah says, tugging Wally’s sleeve to lead him into the row of people.
“Hey,” Baker breathes when she sees them. “Hey, Colby?—Katie?—Would y’all mind moving down a little bit?”
Their classmates immediately shuffle away, creating space for Hannah to slide in next to Baker.
“How are we doing?” Hannah asks her.
“First down. Clay just threw a perfect pass to Jackson, then Jackson ran another six yards.”
“Excellent.”
“Regular or Diet?” Baker asks, tapping Hannah’s cup.
“Regular,” Hannah says, offering it to her. They spend the next few plays trading the drink back and forth, and Hannah’s stomach hums with the familiarity of it all.
Clay throws a fifteen-yard pass to Danny Watkins, who runs the ball another ten yards into the end zone for the second touchdown of the game.
The stands erupt with cheers and the band launches into the fight song.
Clay gallops backward with his hand in the air, his finger pointing at the goalposts as if to say, Told you we’d make it happen.
Wally leans close to Hannah, his eyes bright. “Remember the first time Clay talked to us about football?”
Hannah laughs and claps her hands at the memory, her skin burning against the cold. “When he told us he’d be quarterback by sophomore year, and then we’d be the most popular kids in school?”
“And you said, ‘That’s nice,’ and went back to your Geography homework.”
“Guess he showed us.”
“What are you two laughing about?” Baker asks, passing the Coke back to Hannah.
“Clay,” Hannah says, the one-word answer sufficient enough to make Baker smirk knowingly.
The crowd falls silent as they wait for the kicker to score the extra point.
Hannah studies the boys on the field, white light illuminating their bodies, making the whole game look more special than it is.
Then Miles, the kicker, surges forward and sends the ball spinning in a perfect arc through the goalposts, setting off a fresh flood of cheering.
“Hola, amigos,” Joanie says, pushing her way into their row, oblivious to the screaming people all around her. “Sorry we missed the big play.”
“We paid a visit to concessions,” Luke says, holding a carton of nachos in his hands, “and I’m proud to tell you that we’ve already eaten two hot dogs and a pack of Sour Patch Kids.”
“And now you’re gonna share those nachos with the rest of us?” Hannah asks.
“Hell no,” says Joanie.
“Sorry,” says Luke, “but they’re not-chos.”
“I’m stealing one because that joke was offensively bad,” Hannah says, reaching for the carton.
“Back off, demon sister. They’re only for us.”
“Joanie, I will scoop up that fake cheese and put it in your hair.”
“You are disgusting. You will not do that.”
“Just give me one.”
“Fine.” Joanie bites a nacho in two and hands Hannah the smaller half. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”
Before Hannah can eat her morsel, Baker swipes it from her hand and eats it herself. “Are you kidding me?” Hannah shouts, and the dad in the row below turns around in confusion, thinking Hannah is reacting to the game.
Baker shrugs and looks at Hannah with a straight face. “Sorry. I was hungry. Big speech earlier today.”
Joanie, Luke, and Wally crack up. Hannah rolls her eyes and shoves Baker lightly until she breaks her straight face and grins.
“At least give me my drink back,” Hannah says.
“Okay.” Baker takes a long gulp, her eyebrows raised as she waits for Hannah to smile. “Here you go.”
St. Mary’s wins the game, mostly due to Clay’s efforts, and the St. Mary’s fans make so much raucous noise that it drives the Mount Sinai fans from the stadium like demons from a possessed person.
Hannah stands in the middle of her friends and cheers the team off the field until her throat starts to ache, watching Clay raise his helmet into the air while he cranes his neck toward the stands, looking to his parents and teachers and the whole school community, but mostly, Hannah knows, to them.
“How are y’all celebrating?” a fellow senior, Colby DeBosier, asks as he hugs them afterward. “Is Clay having another party?”
Hannah was afraid this would happen, but she tries to play it cool as she shuffles out of the row. “We have to head out, actually,” she says airily, gesturing at her friends. “We’ve got stuff to do.”
Baker gives her a quizzical look that Hannah pretends not to notice.
“But we thought y’all would organize something,” Katie Maloof says. “That’s what everyone’s been saying. Y’all always organize something.”
“Yeah—well—previous plans,” Hannah says hastily, tossing a pacifying grin over her shoulder.
“But Clay’s the MVP,” yet another classmate, John Strawburn, says in a dejected voice.
Hannah stops, realizing she won’t be able to shake them. She turns around and shoots a meaningful look at Wally, who gives a subtle nod and slips away. Joanie distracts the group by pretending she doesn’t know what MVP stands for, which gives Hannah enough cover to lean close to Baker.
“Just trust me,” she whispers in her ear. “It’s your birthday.”
In that infinite second when Baker’s eyes light up, Hannah swears she is more luminous than the lights on the field.
“Sorry, y’all,” Hannah says in her people-pleasing voice, “but we really do have to go. Family obligations and all.”
“Yes. Family,” Joanie echoes, falling into step behind Hannah. “We’re big family values people. Wholesome. Southern. All-American.”
“You sound like a Cracker Barrel ad,” Luke says. “Please keep going.”
They break free of the crowd and sprint into the night, Hannah calling Wally to make sure he wrangled Clay, Luke and Joanie starting a game of leapfrog that is entirely unsafe in the dark parking lot, Baker trailing along with a spark in her expression.
“Are you going to explain now?” Baker asks.
Hannah raises her eyebrows. “Do you really want me to ruin the surprise?”
Baker narrows her eyes, searching Hannah’s face. “Is it a big surprise, or a little surprise?”
“Little. You don’t like big surprises.”
“You think you know me?”
“Yes. Exceptionally well, or at least well enough to know that after a day of public speaking, passing off Father Simon’s pathetic jokes, and sitting in the cold to watch football—which we both know you only pretend to like so your Southerner card doesn’t get revoked—the last thing you want to do is hit up a party, no matter how much Clay is itching to throw one. ”
Baker shakes her head. “Truly sounds like my version of hell right now.”
“Agreed. Ergo, the six of us are going to my house for birthday cake, presents, and whatever boring board game you’d like to play tonight.”
Baker narrows her eyes. “Bananagrams is not boring.”
“Whatever you say, Grandma.”
Baker grabs Hannah’s arm and leans her head against her shoulder as they walk. “You’re the best.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You have to ride with Clay.”
Baker gives her an exaggerated scowl. “What? Why? You do realize he’s gonna make me analyze plays the whole—”
“I have a secret errand to do,” Hannah says meaningfully, bumping her hip, “which probably has something to do with the birthday cake I just mentioned.”
“Okay. Fine.” Baker wrinkles her nose. “But I’m texting you my stream-of-conscious thoughts the entire car ride.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” Hannah says, grabbing her arm tighter.
Their friends are standing around the front yard when Hannah and Wally drive up to Hannah’s house.
Luke and Clay look up from throwing a tennis ball back and forth and Luke waves his arms overeagerly at them as they turn into the driveway.
Baker stands with a hand on her hip, her purse slung across her body, talking to Joanie on the front walk.
“Food time!” Joanie sings when Hannah and Wally step out of the car.
“Luke, are you seriously standing on our dad’s flowers?” Hannah says as she crosses the driveway, balancing the cake box awkwardly under her arm. “Don’t you know better by now?”
“Hannah, it’s January,” Joanie says. “I doubt Dad cares. What took you so long?”
“What? We were quick.”
“I did three thousand push-ups in the time you were gone,” Clay says. He tosses the tennis ball to Wally and runs out into the street. “Throw it long!”
“Clay, get back here!” Hannah shouts. “It’s birthday time!”
“Hold on, just let me get a few more throws in! I’m trying to stretch out my arm!”
Wally cups the tennis ball in his palm and looks to Hannah for permission. Hannah looks to Baker, who rolls her eyes but smiles.
“Come on, Wall!” Clay shouts from across the street.