14. Cassandra
In hindsight,Becca might have been on the right track when she blocked me from playing video games.
As a kid, I assumed she simply loved making me miserable. Enjoyed the sound of my whining and complaining to our parents that it was unfair that she got to play for hours when I only got twenty minutes at our chocobo farm at the start of the game.
But, after abusing Diego’s hospitality and PlayStation, he’d unceremoniously kicked me out of his house. Well, not kicked me out. He’d softly suggested we both get some sleep. Sleep he needed more than me, judging by how soundly he slept on my shoulder for the better part of an hour, body heavy and breath steady. And I certainly didn’t mind having him on me. Despite what we’d told Becca, the evening felt so impossibly cozy and calm that I couldn’t help my mind from wandering to what it would feel like to date Diego.
Impossible, unless I somehow morphed into a person who had their shit together. A person with a job that took taxes out of their paycheck and an apartment they didn’t borrow from their sister.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have another shot at an all-night video game binge before the first game of the season.
Lena hadn’t been kidding about the pre-game restrictions. Other than a few quick texts, a reminder about the game, and when Lena would pick me up, Diego had gone radio silent. Still, anticipation for my first Breakers NFL game drowned out any disappointment at not seeing Diego, disappointment I blamed on a lack of Final Fantasy.
Besides, I’d been busy. Other than walking tours and bar shifts, I’d met a general contractor who occasionally needed a second pair of hands during one of my bar shifts. After Kendall vouched for him, I helped him install a bathroom vanity. Easy work and flexible.
I woke up late on Saturday morning, blearily turning off the alarm and peeling my body out of bed. Lena had picked me up promptly at one, her former roommate, Cici, in tow.
Lena’s preference for bubbly pals made Cici and I fast friends. A sales representative for lab equipment, Cici talked almost as much as me. By the time we reached the stadium, we were one-upping each other with dating horror stories and laughing so hard I struggled to breathe.
We hedged around the perimeter of the stadium, entering a gated parking lot after giving our names to a guard. The fans inside the gated parking lot looked similar to the fans outside, except instead of wobbly canvas tents and rickety grills, they had giant RVs with full size TVs and catered tailgate spreads.
“Sorry, Lena, I think Cassie’s the one who’s going to convince me to come to more Breakers games.”
Lena shot Cici an angry look as she pulled into an empty parking spot. “Some best friend you are.”
I stared out the window as we passed the tailgates, recognizing more than a few of the fans in attendance, singers and actors and late-night personalities. Lena navigated through the center of the parking lot to the tent butted up to the stadium. Even without Lena pointing it out, the spot was hard to miss. A giant Breakers blue tent covered a half-dozen parking spaces with a stand reading, “Coach Mack’s Pre-Game” beside it.
Lena pulled into an empty space and turned off the car. “Don’t worry about being photographed here. It’s all season ticket holders and they’re pretty chill.”
In contrast to Cici and I, Lena had been more restrained on the car ride and when we stepped out, her eyes wandered down to my jersey. Her lips thinned and a worried expression covered her face.
“You’re worrying too much,” I said, knotting the bottom of the oversized jersey tight around my hips. “Relax.”
“Yeah, relax.” Cici wrapped an arm around her friend. “Cassie’s a big girl.”
I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the next few hours.
With Lena and Cici, at least I’d have a good time, but Diego and I hadn’t exactly planned what would happen at the game. I’d make an appearance. And probably. No, likely, no one would notice.
I wasn’t Zoey Meyer. I wasn’t an A-list singer or celebrity. I wasn’t an international model. I was a nobody from New Hampshire, and other than a passing interest in Diego’s rebound, I doubted I’d see my face anywhere besides my bathroom mirror for the rest of the season.
Along with a dearth of wives and girlfriends for the Norwalk Breakers, the tailgate mostly included Coach Mack’s friends, all former coaches and all retired, a handful of former Breakers players, and one small child.
The girl ran up to Lena. A bedraggled woman with gray hair and two blue pom-poms followed her. She wrapped her tiny arms around Lena’s knees with a contagious grin. “You’re here!”
She pulled away, holding her hands out. She wore a blue and white cheerleader outfit with the number ’90’ embossed on the front and the name “Grant” on the back. “Did you see my new outfit? I have pom-poms too!”
Without waiting for a response, she ran back to the older woman.
“Thank god,” the older woman said to Lena as she handed over the pom-poms.
“Cassie, let me introduce you to Mila and Gloria. Mila is Rob Grant’s daughter. He’s on the defense, linebacker. Gloria is his mother.”
Rob’s face came to me immediately: handsome but all hard angles and glowering frowns. The resemblance between Gloria and Rob was easy to spot, a high forehead, square jaw and piercing brown eyes. The little girl, on the other hand, was soft, face round, and eyes a brilliant blue.
“Nice to meet you both,” I said, shaking Gloria’s hand and smiling at Mila.
The girl hid behind Lena, a tentative smile on her face. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you,” Gloria replied quickly before turning back to Lena. “You’re an absolute angel for watching her. Rob will take her after the game.”
“It’s not a problem. I think we’d all love for Mila to join our girl’s day.”
Mila beamed up at Lena, clearly pleased at being let into our club.
No keg stands for us.
Cici grabbed my elbow. “We’ll grab drinks. What do you want, Lena?”
“Water, and a juice for Mila.”
“Sure thing.” Cici leaned close to my ear. “I say we down one drink at the bar and get a second to-go. Lena’s going to be in mother hen mode and we’re going to need to be sneaky if we want to get sloppy.”
I laughed. “I’m not sure we should get sloppy, but a little buzzed, maybe.”
“Just wait until Mack pulls out his private reserve. I didn’t plan on coming to this game, but when Lena said she’d drive, I was in. And that was before I even knew about you.” Cici grinned, ordering a water, a juice, two margaritas, and two “Early Morning Tailgates”, which didn’t sound promising but tasted like a coffee and bad decisions.
At least it had caffeine.
“Here’s your juice, my lady.” Cici bowed down to hand Mila her drink before tossing Lena hers. “And your water because you’re lame.”
“You didn’t say that when I offered to drive.” Lena untwisted the cap and sipped the water.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Diego?” Cici rounded on me, a sparkle in her eyes and face eager for answers. “I thought he swore off dating after the Zoey mess.”
“Cici!” Lena’s eyes widened.
I didn’t blame Cici. I would have asked the same question. But despite the NDA and the deal, I didn’t enjoy lying, especially to a new friend. “It’s casual. We met years ago.”
“You lucky duck,” Cici breathed. “I’ve got to be honest, if you gave me a shot at Diego, I don’t think I could show that kind of restraint. He’s the kind of guy I want to climb like a tree, just wrap myself around him like a rabid raccoon.”
“So, I shouldn’t introduce you two?”
She laughed. “Absolutely. Noa hangs out with Rob most of the time, and I don’t know if you’ve met him yet, but geez, in terms of hottie football players, he’s a disappointment.”
“Rob is a catch,” Lena hissed, covering Mila’s ears with one hand. “And her dad.”
“And I’m sure he’s a great dad. But boyfriend material?” Cici shook her head and scrunched her face. “Maybe if you’re into the whole ‘mean daddy’ thing. Anyway, we should grab another round before we head inside. Sometimes the coaches send around a couple of rounds in the stadium, but these are the only guaranteed free drinks we’ll get.”
“Do we come back here after the game?” I asked.
Lena shook her head. “No. We’ll go to the locker entrance. We don’t go inside, obviously, but there’s a lounge near the press room and we’ll hole up there until they’re done with interviews.”
“Exciting,” I lied.
“Or could come back here with me,” Cici offered. “Mack keeps the bar manned until a couple of hours after the game. Some players even stop by. It’s great.”
“I should probably learn how to navigate the stadium, in case Lena isn’t here next time Diego invites me to a game,” I said reluctantly, the promise of an open bar almost too much to resist. Almost.
Lena glanced at her watch, pursing her lips.
“That’s the sign that we need to wrap it up,” Cici whispered, dragging me back to the bar.
We ordered two shots and followed Lena into the stadium.
I’d only attended a couple of football games in my life. A single game when I visited Becca during her tenure as a college football trainer. Two Patriots football games with my dad and his friends, games that I remembered more for the burning cold than what happened on the field. In all three instances, I’d gone through general admission, elbow to elbow with a mass of people as we shuffled into the sardine-tight seats to watch players that looked like ants from our vantage point.
I braced for that same experience, lagging Lena so I could keep an eye on Mila in the crowds. Instead, we walked to a nondescript gray door with a meaty mountain of a man standing outside.
“Hey, George,” Lena smiled, craning her head up to look him in the eye.
Mila bounced up to the man, wrapping her arms around his knees. “George!”
“Hey, little princess.” He patted her back. “I hear your daddy’s going to break the sack record this year.”
“He’s going to kill all the quarterbacks this year.”
My eyes widened. “That sounds ominous.”
“Have you met Cassandra yet?” Lena asked George. “She’s a guest of Diego’s.”
George fixed his attention on me, gaze locking on the jersey I wore and a puzzled look on his face that morphed into an amused smile. “Really? Well, nice to meet you. I hope I’ll be seeing more of you this season.”
“Thanks, nice to meet you too.”
I slipped by the man and into a vacant hallway. Mila took the lead, guiding us through a maze of corridors. The buzz of the crowd grew louder with each open door until we emerged into a carpeted hallway.
“These are the box suites. We don’t sit here unless the owner invites us,” Mila said with all the professionalism of a seasoned pro. “Our tickets are down here.”
Mila joined the line of Breakers’ fans toward the stadium bleachers. I winced as we walked out of the darkened hallways and into the light. Even now, before the game started, the noise was cacophonous. A wave of Cerulean blue jerseys blended into the backdrop of the ocean in the distance. I followed Mila as she hopped down the stairs, turning right and sitting just behind the Breakers’ bench, only four rows back.
“Lena,” Mila whined, her voice rising slightly in a question. “Can we get a pretzel before the game starts?”
“Absolutely. You two want anything while we hit the concessions.”
Cici ordered a beer, but I shook my head.
Both teams practiced on the field, lazy throws and easy sprints as the giant clock on the scoreboard counted down until kick off. Diego caught my attention immediately. He stood at the twenty-yard line, “11” embossed on his jersey, the hem riding just high enough to reveal a swath of tanned skin. His white pants sculpted to his body.
“Okay. Casual…” Cici snickered.
My cheeks burned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I totally believe you casually want to jump that guy.”
She wasn’t wrong about that. But hell, so did most of the women in the stadium.
I kept my attention away from Diego after that, identifying the Breakers’ players I met by their jersey. Frankie, 47. Trent, 10. Noa, 53. Rob, 90. Down the sidelines, I glimpsed the head coach, Nate Simmons, his mentor and our tailgate benefactor, Lionel Mack, standing with the quarterback coach, Danielle Henson. I’d only met her once, but as one of the only a handful of female coaches in the NFL, she was hard to miss.
“We’re back and bought an extra beer. The guy behind the counter recognized Mila and gave us extras.” Lena handed me the extra beer.
“He gave me a pretzel and ice cream!” Mila held up the ice cream triumphantly.
“Rob is going to have a fit, but that’s a problem for later,” Lena muttered before telling Mila. “Let me hold it. He’s going to look for you before the game starts and then you can have it back.”
With the trill of a whistle, the players on both teams retreated from the field. Rob paused at the sidelines, furrowed brow scanning our section until he locked eyes with his daughter. The smile directed at his daughter transformed his face from dark and dour into something almost achingly handsome.
“I think Diego’s looking for you.” Cici elbowed me in the ribs and my gaze slid to Diego just in time to see his face do the opposite.
His smile melted away, replaced with confusion as he locked eyes with the number on my chest.
“Oh, he’s pissed.” Lena wiped a hand over her face, giving Mila the opportunity to grab her ice cream. “I told you it was a bad idea.”
Diego marched to the sidelines and grabbed a scrawny guy standing next to a cooler, barking out something that made the kid fumble in his pockets for his phone. Diego glared at the phone, fingers punching the screen until he held it up in my direction.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
UNKNOWN NUMBER
What the fuck are you wearing?
Who is this? I don’t have this number.
Cici snorted a laugh from over my shoulder.
UNKNOWN NUMBER
Seriously, Cassandra?
You memorized my number. I’m impressed.
I’m good with numbers, unlike some other people I know.
Heat rushed to my cheeks as my hand touched the ’10’ emblazoned on my jersey.
What? You said you wear a jersey. I’m wearing a jersey.
UNKNOWN NUMBER
I said your favorite player.
Trent scores a lot and I appreciate players who keep the game interesting.
“Oh no,” Lena winced, her hand gripping my arm. On the field, a gaggle of players formed around Trent as he yelled into the stands. The words were drowned out by the crowd and distance, but the air kiss at the end got his sentiment across.
“Are you double guessing my awesome plan?” I asked with a grimace.
“Diego doesn’t look like he finds it very funny.”
Diego had his eyes locked on mine, with nothing playful in his stare. He shifted his attention back to the phone.
UNKNOWN NUMBER
Take it off.
Cici cackled at the chaos I’d just caused. “Yeah, this relationship seems real casual.”
It’s pretty chilly and I’m only wearing a tank top underneath.
UNKNOWN NUMBER
It’s not funny.
It’s a little funny.
I’ll never let you play Final Fantasy again.
I know you don’t mean that.
I do. I’ll call up to the office. They’ll bring you one of my jerseys.
But this one is awfully soft…
You’re not serious.
My allegiances are fluid. I could be convinced to switch jerseys….
How?
Score some points and my feelings will probably change. Good luck out there!
I held up my phone with a wave before slipping it back into my pocket.
“Well, you certainly got some attention,” Lena sighed.
“Oh! We’re on the big screen!” Mila cried, waving wildly.
On both sides of the field, the four of us were blown up to twenty feet high, me smack in the middle. I pasted on a smile, waving weakly and double guessing my hilarious idea of wearing Trent’s jersey.