Overthenextmonthor so, Dylan and I give being best friends a red-hot go. Something changed between us on that football field, and while I’m not entirely sure what elicited that change, I’m grateful. I didn’t think I needed anyone else in my life, with Cory being there for me day to day and Logan only a phone call away. But I thought wrong. I needed Dylan. I just hadn’t known it.
Everything about our friendship is easy. Through late-night chats, we discovered our shared love of true crime television shows, Elton John—specifically his song “I’m Still Standing”—and peanut M&M’s. Through movie nights spent at theaters or curled up on the couch, we discovered our love of psychological thrillers. And through our continuous fake reminiscing, I learned that Dylan canbake, like actually bake, and it’s edible. I made him prove it one Sunday afternoon, and he didnotdisappoint. To compensate for his secret revelation, I let slip that I learned to dance as a kid. Big mistake. Gone was the lazy Sunday afternoon, instead…Dance-off!
Our communication increased from a few texts, to a catch-up here and there, to seeing or talking to each other daily. We were both taking our new roles as best friendsveryseriously. Now, here we are, almost two months later, and I’m happy. Well, I was happy until this very moment. Now I’m happyanda little apprehensive.
After Cory’s insistent begging, I’m finally attending one of Dylan and Nate’s football games. I’d love to say that I’m completely fine, but I’m not. I haven’t attended a game since the last time I watched Thomas play, the same day my life turned to shit. I can still remember the buzz of excitement at finally being at a college football game—Thomas’s first college game as starting quarterback in his sophomore year. I remember bouncing in my seat the entire drive to the field, decked out in his school colors, thesame school colors I’m wearing now. I was ready to scream his name at the top of my lungs. And I did. I jumped, I cheered, I sat on the edge of my seat. I’d never experienced anything like it. The crowd, the atmosphere, the support for my own flesh and blood. I was so proud of him. Deep down, I still am. It hadn’t taken long for Thomas to make friends at college. He’s charismatic, easygoing, and loyal to a fault. At least, hewas. So, despite it being unusual for a sophomore to host the opening game party, that’s exactly what he did. I’ve always wondered if things would be different if that party had been somewhere else, but I guess I’ll never know.
I’m lost in thought as Cory and I scan our tickets and enter the stadium. With a quick shake of my head and a deep breath, I plaster a smile on my face and rid myself of the negativity. My family isn’t here; Thomas isn’t here. This is for Dylan, Nate, and Cory. It’s time for a new start.
“I hope you realize how much you owe me for this,” I say to Cory as we push through the crowd. Okay, not quite a new start, but I couldn’t resist a small tease.
She stops and pulls me to the side, out of the way of the stampede. A look of motherly concern graces her face. “Believe me, I know, and I really appreciate it, Sum. But if you can’t do this—”
“I’m messing with you, Cory. Thomas is thousands of miles away, focused on his own team. He won’t be here and neither will my family,” I smile, and it’s genuine this time.
“I know that, but I can still understand if you’d prefer—”
“Hey now. I didn’t paint my cheeks for no reason,” I say with a laugh, waving my hand in front of the Heartwood U logo and colors currently taking up real estate on my face.
“Good point,aaaandwhy did you do that again?” She looks at me with a knowing smile, eyebrows raised in question.
“For Nate.Obviously.”
“Right, Nate.Obviously.” Cory laughs, mocking me with an eye roll.
“Well, if I say it’s for Dylan, he’ll never let me live it down. Neither will you,” I say with a shrug, causing Cory’s laughter to build as she drags me back into the sea of people heading to their seats.
We’re seated for a few minutes when Joel drops down next to me, arms loaded with snacks, a nervous expression on his face. “By the way, I may have lied to Dylan about who the extra ticket was for,” he says, not even offering a hello.
His words make the unease I’m trying to bury rise again. Not because I’m worried Dylan won’t be happy I’m here, but because I failed to tell him myself. If roles were reversed, I’d hate the surprise.But he isn’t you.I should have known Joel would try to mess with his head. “Who does he think is sitting in this seat?” I ask.
“Lucy.”
“Lucy?! Why didn’t you tell him it was me?”Shit! Of all people…He’s not going to be happy that it’s not actually Lucy. He said last week that he misses her.
“Thought It would be more fun this way. Why didn’tyoutell him?” He smirks, eyes on the field.
“Nate knew,” Cory adds, her eyes glued to the tunnel, waiting for Nate, completely unaware of my concern.
“Yeah, I told him to keep his mouth shut,” Joel says with a shrug.
My lips pull into a thin line as I consider his words. I hadn’t mentioned the game to Dylan in case I changed my mind, but I’d never asked Joel to keep it a secret. “I know why I kept it a secret, but why did you?” I ask. He’s definitely up to something.
“You’ll see.” He bounces his eyebrows, holding back a grin. I shake my head and huff out a laugh, because what else can I say?
“Here they come,” Cory squeals excitedly, causing Joel and me to laugh and my worry to be long forgotten.
I scan the field looking for Dylan, and find him doing the same thing, but searching the crowd. When he looks in our direction, he freezes, still as a post, not even a twitch, until a teammate whacks him on the back, drawing his attention. He moves to follow, but not before looking back over his shoulder and offering a half wave. It’s difficult to make eye contact with his helmet on, so I don’t wave back. You know, in case it was directed at someone else.It was definitely me.
Joel chuckles beside me. “Thatwasfun; may have even thrown him off his game.”
I smack him in the arm but can’t stop a snigger from escaping. “You better hope not.”
“Hey! It’s your fault. Did you or did you not tell him there was absolutelynochance you would ever attend a game?”
“I said that, yes.”
“Yet, here you are,” he says with a grin.