Chapter 16 #2
“Ahh.” I smiled as I watched her take it all in. The sunset, the open field, the short shorts.
“Go get me something to drink and bring back some gossip,” Haven instructed as she relaxed into her chair and pulled out her phone.
“Alright, auntie.” I laughed and started toward the open coolers. Small groups of people clustered together. I scanned for Hart while I grabbed a couple of iced bottled waters. When I couldn’t find him on my preliminary search, I texted:
Trying to report for duty. Where are you?
Hart
Sorry! Traffic off campus is horrible. Pulling up now.
I glanced over in time to see David’s silver car pulling into the lot. Hart and Weston hopped out of the back seat while Nathaniel and David climbed out of the front.
I knew it would be far more logical to follow Hart’s journey onto the field. But my eyes cast their vote on David’s easy stride, his furrowed brow. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and he continually shoved it off his forehead.
David was in conversation with Weston, their expressions far more serious than one may expect during what was supposed to be a low-stakes evening. Hart and Nathaniel broke away from the two, B-lining to the coolers and me.
“You came.” Hart smiled and held his arms up, but didn’t step closer, giving me the final decision to accept the hug.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I hugged him. He smelled of aloe and spicy aftershave.
A bit of his wet hair pressed against my temple, leaving a cool imprint that I tried to wipe away discreetly.
I waited for nerves to coil in my belly or for warmth to bloom on my cheeks, or for my heart to race even a little.
A full-body scan showed no immediate changes in my body, which wasn’t necessarily a bad sign.
No change could mean I was comfortable with Hart.
And since I hadn’t gone on a date in forever, comfortable felt good. Safe.
“Yeah?” Hart chuckled at my statement and nudged his chin to a large group gathering on the field. “Have they named the teams yet? The game should start soon.”
“I don’t know; I just got here.” I shrugged. “Haven’t had the chance to ask.”
“I’ll make sure we’re together,” he promised. “Ready?”
“One second.” I waved the dripping water bottle to indicate I needed to make a detour.
Haven smiled, grateful for the water and my presence. “Who should I be cheering for?”
“Me, obviously.”
“I like to be on the winning side.”
I snorted and glanced over my shoulder, looking for Hart, but my gaze somehow immediately locked in on David. He was on the field, hands on his head as he talked to a few people. There was a smile on his face now, small but effective. He looked happy to be there, interacting.
My staring went on for far too long to be normal.
David, probably feeling the weight of my gaze, glanced over.
When our gazes met, his smile faded a little.
But I wasn’t offended. The slight change in expression indicated something honest. His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath before being the first to look away.
His group regained the attention I craved.
“You realize you can say hi first.” Haven’s smiling up at me, the rim of her water bottle pressed against her lips.
I frowned and shed my jacket. “What?”
“To your fake boyfriend. You’re allowed to say hi first.”
“I don’t need to say hi.” I tossed the jacket beside her, and she tugged it onto her lap, using it as a blanket. “I talk to him all the time. All day through text, in fact.”
“And yet you really want to do it some more.” Her smile would annoy me if it didn’t reveal her cute dimples and make me want to pinch her cheeks.
“Film me?” I needed to change the subject, stat. “I want a record of doing something that’s not inside school walls so the next time my family complains about my nose being in a book, I have ample evidence.”
I tossed her my phone and jogged back to the field. Hart was easy to find with his broad shoulders and height. He was also looking for me, which was plenty of reason for a spark to run up my spine or breathing to take a brief intermission. Neither of which happened but it was still early.
“You, Nat, and I are blue.” Hart smiled wide. He offered me a blue vest that smelled of sweat and grass. I tried not to wrinkle my nose, swallowing down a “no, thanks” when I saw everyone else tugging on their vests without protest.
“What’s the game?” I clicked myself into the vest.
It was Nathaniel’s quiet voice that explained, “Flag football.”
“Fitting,” I murmured.
Hart stepped closer to help me tighten the sides of my vest. “Do you know how to play?”
“Is it like normal football?” I asked.
Hart nodded. “Yeah, sort of.”
“Then no, I know nothing.”
He chuckled, and even Nathaniel smiled a little.
“It’s no-contact,” Hart said. “That’s the biggest difference from football. You can’t tackle, dive, or block.”
I nodded. “Good, because I wouldn’t know how to do any of those things.”
“You see where the ball is?” Hart pointed to a football placed on one of the spray-painted white lines in the grass. “That’s the line of scrimmage. It’ll move forward or back depending on where the play ends. It’s a starting point. Picking up where we left off.”
I frowned, already a bit confused as to how to accurately track the change.
“Okay, so what—” I cut off when a jacked softball player appeared with an armful of belts that sported fabric strips velcroed across.
She passed them to each of us. My stomach twisted when I remembered I was among Division I athletes.
They were on track to do this for a living.
Some of them would make millions doing this for a living.
And here I was, in baggy jeans and a dream.
Maybe I should have cheered from the sidelines?
Had Hart actually invited me out here anyway?
Had the invite been just to spectate? I couldn’t remember.
“This won’t be serious.” Nathaniel smiled at me, a gentle acknowledgement that he’d noticed my internal panic. “We bend the rules all the time. No need to worry about getting it right because there isn’t a right with this bunch.”
I nodded, only half-calmed by the assurance. My eyes strayed to David, a couple of yards away. A yellow vest hugged his torso. His arms crossed over his chest, emphasizing the broadness I used to overlook. I missed overlooking. Everything felt easier that way.
“You sure?” I joked. Half-joked. The other half panicked. I wished I had time to run over to Haven and grab my phone. I needed to find a short crash course on all things flag football and ingest every detail in the next four to five minutes. “The yellow team looks stacked and determined.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “Promise. They’re all bark. This is all for fun. No one wants to get hurt before the season’s over.”
“Makes sense.” I nodded, and a few of the knots in my shoulders unwound.
David’s gaze found me again in the crowd, and he raised a questioning brow. I frowned back, sending an unspoken, what? He wasn’t well-versed in telepathy. Nor did he have an interest in learning it on the fly. He mouthed, you okay?
The concern in his brow made my chest tighten. I fought the urge to walk right up to him and ask him what was so big and important about his day.
Fine, I mouthed back.
He nodded, satisfied, and turned back to strategizing with his team.
“You ran in high school, right?” Hart’s question shattered my delusion that the only people on this field were David and I.
“Cross country and track.” I nodded. “I was better at track.”
Small, quick bursts of energy earned me a spot on varsity all four years in high school.
“How much better?” Hart asked.
“Fifth in the state during my junior year in the 800 meters.” I placed my hands on my hips; it was still something I was proud of. “And third, during my senior year.”
“Thinking what I’m thinking?” Hart gave Nat a knowing smile.
Nat returned it, not as convinced but still amused. “You know who’s going to want to cover her.”
“Yara can take him.” Hart waved his hand, dismissive of the warning.
I raised a brow. “Take who?”
“He’s going to hold back,” Hart promised. “If you’re one of our wide receivers, David won’t work half as hard.”
“It’s a decent strategy,” Nat agreed.
Hart nodded and winked at us both before calling over the softball player from before. Her tight, coily brown hair was tousled from the wind or wrestling. Maybe both. Her dark brown skin was dotted with acne scarring, and her sharp jaw was the envy of movie stars of all ages, I’m sure.
“Rissa, this is Yara.” Hart gestured to me. “Yara, Rissa. She’s the captain of the softball team and the captain of our flag football team.”
Rissa smiled and offered an elbow to bump. “Yara… have I seen you at the Rivere?”
“Maybe.” I nodded. “It’s my favorite place to sulk between classes.”
She laughed, flashing a gorgeous smile that rendered Hart, Nat, and me temporarily speechless.
“David’s Yara,” Hart said in a, ‘you get what I’m talking about’ tone.
Rissa’s brows lifted with recognition. “No shit?”
The title, “David’s Yara,” wrapped around my shoulders.
I shouldn’t like how it felt like a perfect fit.
I didn’t jump to correct them. I rationalized the need to practice getting used to it for at least the next couple of months.
To my family, I would be David’s Yara… or he’d be Yara’s David —a title which felt even nicer. I was going to be sick.
“And she’s a track star,” he said.
“Former,” I amended, still reeling from being seen as anyone’s anything.
Hart had gone from telling me David didn’t bring me up to calling me his on a date.
This was a date… wasn’t it? Or the preface to one?
I studied Hart as if I could read his mind and confirm we’re romantically linked, even by the smallest thread.
But from the moment he scaled the gate at the football field, I had felt little of anything except the budding friendship we’d cultivated last semester.
“Any experience is more than enough,” Rissa said. “You’re a receiver, kid. If you want the position, of course.”
The three of them looked at me, expectant. If they thought, even for a second, I could help them win against David’s team, I was game.
“Position filled,” I decided. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”