Chapter 16
Quinn
Aweek later, I woke up before dawn, long before the first pale light of morning touched the frost outside my window. The game always started at noon, but it took at least a couple of hours to get to the university. The Cardinals were the home team this year.
I dressed slowly, layering against the cold.
It was always cold for this game. First was a thick long-sleeve under my old, worn Cardinals jersey—the one that had belonged to my brother.
Then, a pair of wool leggings and thick socks.
Finally, I shrugged on my winter coat that I kept unzipped to show my jersey.
I wrapped a scarf around my neck and tugged a beanie over my ears.
When I stepped out onto the porch of the bed-and-breakfast, Graham was already walking up the steps. The morning was quiet under a blanket of frost, the streetlamps haloed in a soft white haze.
Graham looked me over, a smile curling at the edge of his mouth. We’d been working together a lot this week, in the early mornings at the gym. I was about as surprised as him when I’d asked for more lessons. I felt like I’d learned so much already.
“Go Birds,” he said softly, eyeing my jersey.
I couldn’t help myself—I smiled. Lifting my right hand, I curled my fingers into the familiar C shape. “Fly high, Cardinals,” I said.
Graham’s smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
I fell into step beside him as we descended from the porch. I expected him to lead me toward his car parked along the curb, but we continued down the street instead.
“Where are we going?” I glanced sideways at him.
He raised his brows, his expression unreadable. “Well, we aren’t traveling all the way to OCU by ourselves.”
“We’re not?”
He shook his head as we crossed the quiet street. We were headed toward the library. It wasn’t far from the bed-and-breakfast, and as the outline of the old brick house came into view, my stomach flipped.
“There’s a bus that some of the locals take every year to the game,” Graham explained.
“A bus? What kind of bus?”
He shrugged, his mouth twitching. “You’ll see.”
We walked in silence the rest of the way, our breaths puffing white in the cold morning air. Annoyance tugged at me that he hadn’t mentioned we’d be traveling with other people, but I didn’t complain. I hadn’t been to an Ohio Central game in years.
Part of me ached for it—the noise, the energy, the sea of red and white—but another part, the wounded part, was afraid. The last time I’d gone, my brother had been beside me, yelling himself hoarse for the Cardinals.
Today, the memory of him felt so close, it almost hurt to breathe.
I gaped as we rounded the library and stepped into the back parking lot.
The “bus” was a short school bus painted in OCU’s colors.
The top half was bright red and the bottom was white.
Bird Bus was scrawled across the side next to a grinning painting of Rudy the Cardinal.
Flashing red and white lights blinked along the roof like it was leading a parade.
Graham’s quiet chuckle pulled my attention to him.
“It’s very…festive?” I said weakly, not sure that was the right word for the spectacle of school spirit idling in front of me.
The bus was already packed. Through the windows were shadows of people shifting, the sounds of singing and clapping along to the music that thumped from inside.
My steps faltered.
Graham’s chuckle faded into a tight frown. “You okay?”
My gaze darted back to the bus. The laughter, the faces I couldn’t yet make out, the sound of the fight song—it all made my chest ache. My heart rate pitched, the cold morning air suddenly too sharp and thin.
“It’s just…” I began, swallowing. “The locals. You know they don’t really like me.”
I forced my breathing to steady. It was tiring, always feeling like I had to be on guard in Ember Hollow, always aware of every glance and whisper.
I was the enemy in this town.
Graham’s expression darkened before he chased the shadows away. He reached out and took my hand—his was impossibly warm against my ice-cold fingers. He must’ve been keeping them in his pockets; the morning was freezing.
“Today, you’re not Quinn Carpenter, the defense lawyer,” he said gently, tugging me closer to the bus.
The noise grew louder, the OCU fight song spilling out of the open door in bright, chaotic bursts of sound.
“You’re a fellow Cardinals fan.” He nodded toward my jersey. “You’re one of us today.”
His confidence pulled a smile from me, though it was a small, cautious thing. “If you say so,” I murmured.
“Come on.”
The warmth of his touch lingered, curling deep in my stomach. He’d never touched me without asking before, but I didn’t mind. Somewhere along the way, Graham had become…familiar. That realization was both terrifying and strangely comforting.
He led me toward the bus, him taking the steps first as I lingered behind him. The moment he was visible to the other passengers, a loud cheer erupted inside, making me jump.
The narrow space was overstimulating. Music and chatter bounced off metal walls, and the smell of coffee, cinnamon, and exhaust were thick in the air.
“Morning, Ramsey!” a man called in a deep voice from where he was perched in the driver’s seat.
“Hey, Earl,” Graham replied with a grin before stepping aside to let me climb up.
The second my foot hit the top step, the noise dulled, as if everyone suddenly realized who was behind him. My pulse fluttered.
Earl studied me before turning back to Graham. “You brought a lawyer on the Bird Bus, Ramsey?”
Before Graham could answer, a woman slapped him on the shoulder. She was in the seat directly behind him, her hair perfectly styled in a short bob streaked with gray. Her jacket was cardinal red and studded in rhinestones that sparkled in the flashing lights tacked along the perimeter of the bus.
“Oh hush, sweetheart,” she snapped. “At least she’s wearing the right colors.”
Earl pursed his lips at the woman, who I assumed was his wife by the matching wedding bands and the way they interacted with each other.
Earl looked me over again; his face softened and he nodded approvingly.
“Nice jersey,” he said. “That’s almost vintage now.
I remember those years at the beginning of Coach Williams’s career. Good times.”
He smiled.
The woman behind him smiled too as she turned to me. “Come on aboard, honey. We don’t bite—” She paused, thinking better of it. “Well, most of us don’t. I’m Dottie. If you need anything, just let me know.”
I nodded, suddenly overwhelmed.
Graham stepped closer. “Thanks, Dottie,” he said.
The woman looked at him like he had a literal halo hovering over his head. “I’m so glad you’re coming this year,” she said, her smile pulling wide enough to show all her teeth.
Earl jerked his chin toward the back of the bus. “Go grab a seat. You’re the last and we need to get on the road.”
Graham placed a hand on my shoulder, gently guiding me forward, but Dottie stopped us.
“Wait, you both need a sandwich!” She disappeared behind her seat; there was a rustling of a plastic bag before she popped back up with four foil-wrapped sandwiches in her arms. “I made them myself—bacon, egg, and cheese.” She beamed as she gave two to Graham and then held two out toward me.
She gave me a wink, and I decided not to argue with her, even though I wasn’t that hungry.
“Thanks,” I said, and she glowed with happiness.
“Enjoy!” she crooned as Graham guided us toward the back of the bus.
We made our way down the aisle as the bus jolted.
Someone adjusted the radio, switching from the OCU fight song to an old rock playlist. A group of college kids near the back were painting red streaks on their cheeks, and a man in a heavy team jacket was bragging loudly about how his brother-in-law once worked for the Cardinals.
The only person I recognized was a girl with long, dark hair and round, brown eyes. She sat at the back by the only open seats and a huge cooler that almost spanned the width of the bus.
She gazed up at us as we approached and gave a shy smile.
“Hey, Mara.” Graham waved. “Can we sit by you?”
Mara, the librarian, nodded. “Of course! Please do.” She had a soft, melodic voice that was instantly calming.
I gave her a smile, my cheeks already feeling a little sore from the repeated movement. I apparently didn’t smile enough.
I took the seat beside her. Graham sat at my other side, his body so close it pressed against mine, warm and…more comforting than I wanted to admit.
I wasn’t the best at talking to people I didn’t know well, but Mara was nice.
She leaned toward Graham and me. “Can I get you guys some cinnamon coffee?” She picked up a large red thermos sitting in her lap.
“Grandma insists it’s good luck.” She glanced at the older woman with a long white braid plated over her shoulder, sitting alone across from us.
Two knitting needles flashed in her hands as she worked on what looked like a red and white scarf.
“That’s Edith,” Graham whispered in my ear.
I was surprised I didn’t recognize her. Graham had explained before that the library had been her family home before she donated it to the town. She and Mara still lived in the upper levels, according to him.
“She always comes to this game. It was a tradition for her and her late husband, and she never misses it.”
I turned back toward Mara, who was looking at us expectantly, thermos in hand. I preferred my coffee black and unflavored, but I nodded anyway. “Sure,” I said. “We need all the luck we can get today.”
As Mara passed out some Styrofoam cups, the bus jerked again.
“All right, Bird Bus!” Dottie yelled, who had somehow produced a tiny megaphone from her purse. “Let’s fly!”
“And kick some Walleye ass!” Earl added.
Cheers rippled through the passengers as the engine roared to life.
Graham caught my eye, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “See?” He raised his voice just enough for me to hear. “Cardinals fans. Nothing to fear.”