“Hi, Blaire,” she said with a small smile, one that hesitantly graced her lips. She held a packet of popcorn, a thick layer of orange cheese-salt sitting on the top. “They’re giving away free popcorn since the game’s almost over.”
I nodded, a bittersweet feeling working through me. I missed her almost as much as I missed Lucas. Almost. “Very cool. Looks like you’ve got a lot of salt there.”
“The lid broke on the shaker.”
Despite everything, my lips twitched. “Here.” I took the packet of popcorn from her and grabbed the edges at the top, giving it a good shake. “If you do this, some of the salt falls to the bottom.”
When I handed the popcorn back, her hesitant smile turned into something much more genuine, much more familiar. “Thanks.” She shook the bag a little bit, trying the new trick out. “I haven’t seen you in so long. You never come over anymore.”
“I’ve just been so busy lately.” Great, now I’m lying to children.
Delia shifted the bag of popcorn, not looking at me. “You know, Lucas is sad a lot at home. I think he misses you coming around too.”
A lick of pain flared up in my chest, and though I tried to shy away from it, it was unavoidable. I reached over and swiped a piece of her popcorn, wincing as a burst of salt coated my tongue. “I’m coming over tomorrow for your mom’s party. I’ll see both of you then.”
“Really?” It was almost comical how fast her head whipped up, her glasses falling low on her nose. “Mom didn’t tell me that. I’ll have to clean my room. She says I can’t have friends in there when it’s so messy, which is super lame. But I’ll definitely get it cleaned by tomorrow because we painted my room a few weeks ago and I want to show you.” Delia paused, as if aware she’d been speaking quickly. “If you want to see it.”
“Of course I want to see it,” I told her, nudging her shoulder. “But don’t tell me the color—I want to be surprised.”
Delia nodded, her hair bobbing in its ponytail. “Deal. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As she hurried off with a bounce to her step, the game buzzer sounded, loud and echoing in the night, signaling the game was over. From where I stood, I couldn’t see the scoreboard, but I knew from how loud the Hallow section cheered that we’d won.
The last game of the season. The last game of Lucas’s high school career.
The line for the bathroom was long, and I took my time washing my hands, enjoying the idea of Donnie waiting around trying to find me in the mass of people filtering towards their cars. He might’ve been right; my bitter emotions were probably a little unhealthy. But at this moment, punishing him for saying it felt good.
Which was so wrong.
However, when I emerged from the bathroom, pulling back on my mittens, karma hit me in the face like a slap.
Lucas leaned on one of the stone benches by the edge of the football field’s fence. He held his shoulder pads by the collar, his black shirt hugging his torso tightly, leaving nothing to the imagination. The sweat in his hair made it curl slightly at the ends, appearing a lot darker than its normal chocolate color. He still wore his football pants, which hugged his thighs and hips snugly.
All the air vanished from my lungs.
But as my laser-focus on Lucas faded, I realized someone stood in front of him. Someone petite. Brunette. She had her back to me, so I couldn’t see who it was, but I did see when she touched his arm. The slow-motion movement tortured my brain. Five fingers on his skin for longer than five seconds. I couldn’t help but count.
Another girl stood in the mix of conversation. She had her cell phone out, poised as if taking a picture. No, she was taking a picture. Of the brunette and Lucas.
It was like I was watching this scene unfold outside of my body. I had zero reaction as the brunette turned to my direction, her face coming into full view. Hailey Moore.
She was a grade above me, in Lucas’s class, and on the cheer squad. Her uniform matched Lucas perfectly. A hot football player and pretty cheerleader couple.
Another fun fact about Hailey? She and Lucas had dated his sophomore and junior year. Which was fantastic.
Hailey flipped her hair over her shoulder before leaning into Lucas’s side, so close that not an inch separated them. She even put one of her hands on Lucas’s flat chest, taking any and every excuse to touch him.
And Lucas’s eyes shifted to the left and found mine.
You gave him up, I reminded myself, but my thoughts were quiet, as if I whispered in the dark. A shiver tore down my spine, and I wasn’t sure it was from the cold. You let him go.
I schooled my features into a mask of blankness, sure that not a trace of expression remained as I held Lucas’s gaze. But I couldn’t stand there, couldn’t watch some other girl touch him like I used to. If I did, I’d let myself remember how he smelled after a game, how his chest felt as I pressed my fingers there, how his smile widened to show his teeth just for me.
So I turned on my heel and walked away, balling my hands into fists so tight that my nails tried to cut through the material of my mittens.
“Blaire.” Lucas was there, at my side, his earthy scent following him. His hair matted along the skin at his temples, pressed down by the damp. Those blue eyes were crystalline, wide, and focused on me. “Bee, that wasn’t—”
I immediately threw a hand up, trying not to let him see my discomfort. Hearing him try to explain himself when he’d done nothing wrong made me feel icky, as well as being caught staring. Both cringe-inducing. “I thought it was sweet. Who knew you were so popular?”
“She wanted a picture,” he said, shaking his head a little, as if the mere idea was ludicrous. “She said she wanted to remember her senior year.”
“Yeah, right. Or she wanted the picture to post on her social media and make everyone think you’re a couple again.”
Lucas shifted his hold on his shoulder pads, looking straight into my eyes. “I don’t care what everyone thinks.”
I needed to get out of there before I said something stupid, because my body felt all kinds of traitorous. My heartbeat thumped unevenly inside my chest, my lungs decided they didn’t want oxygen, and fingers itched to reach out for him. Traitorous. You’d think the sight of a guy sweaty would be gross, but dang.
I took a deliberate step back from him. “I need to go find Donnie. He’s probably waiting for me.” Or he left without me, in which case, my punishing him totally backfired.
“I’m surprised you came tonight,” Lucas threw out quickly, following my retreat. As if he knew if he kept talking, I’d stay and listen. “You haven’t been to a game all season.”
With another step back, my back came dangerously close to pressing against the side of the bathroom outer wall. “I wasn’t going to miss your last game.”
Lucas advanced further. “Why not?”
“Because it’s important to you.” I curled my hands into fists. “And that’s what a friend would do, right?”
Ah, the f-word. A hail-Mary, a yellow flag on the play to make this game stop, if only for a moment. I couldn’t breathe, not with him so close, with the scent of memories clinging to his skin.
It didn’t do much to faze him, though. In fact, my words almost encouraged him to smile wider. “So it’s official, huh? I’m your friend.”