I turned to look at him, shell-shocked that he knew.
Nick laughed. “Can’t say I’m surprised, you know. Saw the way he looked at you, but he was with Gigi—by the way, I’m sorry for giving her your number.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Gavin talked to me…” Nick trailed off, and we both just sat there in silence. “I miss them.”
I sucked in a breath because we never really talked about our parents. The pain was already immense. Why add to it, right?
“Me too.”
“Sometimes when I’m working on plays, I wish Dad was here so I could run it past him. Or for Mom to be here and talk about boy stuff with you.”
“Me too,” I croaked.
Nick threw a hand over my shoulder and hugged me to him. “I’m not here to judge or anything. Things haven’t been easy with us. Not since we lost Mom and Dad.”
I burrowed into my brother’s warmth and asked him a question I’d been scared to ask since the night my parents died. “Do you blame me?”
“Jesus, Scar,” Nick whispered, pulling me closer to him. “Is that what you thought?”
“I blamed myself,” I told him truthfully.
He made me face him. “It was an accident, Scar. It’s not your fault. How many times did they tell us to call them if we were drunk? I called Dad a bunch of times.”
“The one time I call—”
“Stop,” Nick demanded. “They called me that night to see if I could pick you up, but I was with a girl…and yeah. I wonder what if…but that won’t change shit, Scar. They’re gone, and they wouldn’t want us to blame ourselves. They would want you to be happy…I want you to be happy.” He finished the last part on a soft plea.
My eyes were teary, and my throat clogged a bit. I’d had no idea about that. God, it pained me that Nick lived with that on his conscience. I found some comfort in Nick’s words.
“He makes me happy,” I whispered.
“Then give yourself a chance at happiness.” He kissed my forehead once again. “Come to the game. You can stand with me.”
I didn’t say yes, but I also didn’t say no. “You can do that?”
Nick winked at me and left. I took a deep breath, and when I let it out, I did so feeling lighter.
With shaky hands, I opened the box, and the first thing I saw was Gavin’s scrawly writing.
It’s always been you.
For the first time in these past few days, I felt a flutter. Those damn butterfly wings he seemed to evoke hadn’t completely died.
Inside the box were pictures from elementary to when he came back to high school. Gavin’s mom always had a camera ready, so I wasn’t surprised seeing them, but I was surprised he had them. There was a picture that was folded. I remembered when it was taken; it was right before Gavin and Gigi had started dating. I was in my poms uniform, and Gigi had her cheer on. Gavin was in the middle, his arms extended and holding us both. While Gigi and I smiled at the camera, he was looking down at me. Gavin had folded Gigi out of the picture. It was like in that memory she didn’t exist; it was just him and I. I looked through the photographs, and the memories weren’t as painful today as they seemed yesterday.
Game day got here in a blur, and it felt like I barely had time to let it all sink in. The school was buzzing with excitement. The girls had practice, and I was still receiving gifts. The Pringles were going to get me fat. I didn’t care because they were delicious.
I was walking to my class when I felt someone next to me, and my belly dipped thinking it was him. I missed him, and I was worried because he hadn’t been in class, but Ollie, who had been sitting behind me, assured me he would be back.
“Don’t look so disappointed,” Quincy said when he saw my face fall.
“I’m not.”
“Between you and me, it’s killing him to stay away.”
A part of me was surprised he hadn’t approached me at all.
“Here.” Quincy handed me a coffee.
“Um, thanks,” I said, taking it. “Why are you giving me coffee?”
He gave me a grin. “I worked in a coffee shop in high school. My boss said the way to a man’s heart is through food, and for a woman, it’s a warm cup of coffee.”
I nodded and took a sip, wondering how true that was, and noticed people staring at us. For the first time I didn’t feel uncomfortable.
When I got to my building, Quincy stopped in front of me. “Come to the game.”
“Why is everyone demanding me to go?”
“We’re just trying to get you and Dunn back together. Now game. Tonight. Wear his shirt. Or mine,” he teased before he walked away. I shook my head, but even then, I knew I would be going to the game.
The energy in the field was like a current, intensifying all my emotions. It made me feel anxious and nervous. People were shouting and chanting.
I had met Nick here pretty early; he told me to be almost invisible, and I wondered just how “allowed” I was here. It didn’t matter, because now there was no way I was leaving. I wore jeans and Gavin’s jersey, the one I never gave back to him. It was huge on me, but it was his.
The moment the players started to come out, everyone started screaming, yet I couldn’t hear a thing. I watched Gavin walk out in his black-and-gold football uniform looking like a Greek god. Damn was he beautiful. Whoever he was walking with pointed to where I was sitting. Even from across the field, I felt his penetrating gaze. All I could do was give him a small wave. His teammate patted his shoulder, and Gav got his head in the game.
The game was intense, and I forgot how violent these things could get. Everything about me staying put and quiet went out the window the first time Gavin got tackled. It helped ease me that every so often, he turned to look at me.
When the first half ended, we were losing by seven points. The guys started to walk to the locker room, but Gavin made his way to me. People cheered at the sight of him taking off his helmet. He didn’t stop until he was directly in front of me.
“You’re here,” he ground out.
“I’m at your game. And I’m wearing your shirt,” I blurted out before I lost my courage.
Gavin seemed to hold his breath.
“Scar,” he croaked.
“You better win this game if you want to impress me.”
Then he gave me a cocky smile and whispered in my ear. “Tonight, you’ll be in my arms and in my bed.”
Before I could say anything, he started to walk back, but he did it with a grin on his face. The halftime seemed to take forever; I just wanted the game to be over so I could run into Gavin’s arms.
When the second half started, the air was dense and palpable. I was on my feet watching plays, my eyes following Gavin, making sure he was okay. He seemed to be playing more aggressively—all the guys were. They were still losing, but not by much. Just nine points. Quincy was about to throw the ball when he got sacked. My heart sped like crazy, and the fans cheered louder.
The game kept going, and they were only losing by three points. I closed my eyes when they tackled down who I thought was Ollie. I looked at the scoreboard, and they only had three seconds. I didn’t want to be pessimistic, but that was not enough time. The guys huddled, their eyes going to Quincy as he gave them a pep talk. When the guys hooted, everyone was on their feet. I watched as the ball went to Quincy.