Chapter 16 #2
I wasn’t sure I entirely believed that, but as the bus lurched forward and the library faded into the misty morning, I realized something. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like the town’s enemy. I felt part of something.
The music swelled. The scent of steaming cinnamon coffee filled my nose, and I smiled.
Even though I was tired, I didn’t sleep a wink on the way to the game.
I held soft conversations with Mara, who was kind and sweet and effortlessly friendly.
I hadn’t had many real friends—not after everything.
I’d become so consumed with school and my disintegrating family that all my friends faded away.
I never had the time or energy to make new ones.
Still, I liked to think Mara would’ve been a nice friend if I didn’t plan to leave Ember Hollow after the trial.
I sipped my cinnamon coffee, which was way better than I expected, and was already on my second cup when Dottie flitted over and poured a splash of Irish whiskey into my cup with a mischievous wink.
Even Edith, who was quieter than her granddaughter, easily accepted some whiskey of her own, and after that, the bus got a little louder.
Graham sat next to me, looking entirely relaxed, a small smile plastered across his face. He was so close that his body kept the cold chill away better than the sputtering heater ever could.
“You’re that lawyer lady, aren’t you?”
I glanced up to see one of the college kids grinning at me. Half his face was painted red and white, and he was digging through the giant cooler next to our seats.
I nodded cautiously.
He gave me a boyish, sly smile as he cracked open a beer and leaned a little closer. “Didn’t realize you were so…” His gaze flicked down and then back up. “Pretty.”
I blinked at him, unsure whether that was supposed to be a compliment or not. Graham shifted a little closer, but before I could reply, a girl shouted from a few rows ahead, “Leave that poor lady alone, Zane. You creep!”
Zane scowled, twisting toward her. “I wasn’t being a creep!” he yelled, cheeks turning pink. His wide eyes snapped back to me. “I wasn’t. I just…” He sighed, and glanced down at his beer. “Sorry. Maybe I should slow down a bit with the drinking…”
I stared at him…and then, I laughed.
A real laugh—loud and from the belly. The kind I hadn’t experienced in years. It startled me as much as it seemed to startle everyone else. Zane’s blush deepened as he retreated to his seat, muttering under his breath. But I couldn’t stop laughing.
It felt good. Too good. Like something inside me had cracked open enough to let some light in.
When I finally caught my breath, tears stung my eyes. I wiped them quickly, realizing Graham was watching me. His brow was lifted, but he was smiling too.
“You good?” he asked, on the verge of a chuckle himself.
I shook my head. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”
He nudged my shoulder with his own. “It’s a good day to laugh,” he said. “You deserve it.”
I looked down at my coffee and didn’t reply, but the smile lingered anyway.
The rest of the trip flew by and before I realized it, the sun was creeping higher and the bus was rolling closer to the university.
The streets were packed. People in red and white flooded the sidewalks, waving banners or flags.
It took forever to crawl through the traffic, and when the massive stadium finally came into view, I could barely contain my surprise when I realized we were heading toward the parking lot.
“We’re tailgating at the stadium?” I blurted, louder than I probably should’ve. The whiskey-coffee combo might’ve loosened my tongue.
Earl caught my eye in the rearview mirror, his grin wide. “Who do you think I am?” he shouted over the noise with mock offense. “Of course we tailgate at the stadium!”
The whole bus erupted in cheers, and I couldn’t help but join in.
The bus finally came to a stop, the engine rumbling low before cutting off completely. The chatter and laughter around me dimmed as everyone began to gather their things, pulling on jackets and hats, ready to pour into the cold November air.
I looked out the window—and there it was.
The stadium.
Even after all these years, it took my breath away.
The OCU stadium had been built in the early 1920s, and held the sense of another era—arched stone entrances crowned with banners, red brick walls weathered but strong, and iron gates gleaming in the sunlight.
The tall lights loomed like sentinels against the pale sky, and the carved cardinal statues perched on either side of the main arch looked as fierce and proud as I remembered.
It wasn’t just a structure. It was a home, in its own way.
I’d grown up watching games on TV every Saturday with my brother. He’d be yelling at the screen, and I’d watch, enraptured, as he explained plays like it was life or death. I could almost hear his voice, the sound of his shout—could almost feel the vibration of his excitement beside me.
My chest ached, heavy and potent with a grief I rarely allowed myself to acknowledge.
I closed my eyes and drew in a slow breath, letting the cold air sting my lungs. The hurt was always there—deep and steady—but for once, I didn’t push it away.
When I opened my eyes again, the sunlight hit the red and white flags rippling over the stands, and something in me loosened.
I made a decision, then. I was going to enjoy this day, no matter what.
For him.