The portly kid took a few steps away, thinking no one would notice him, and brought the jersey to his nose.
“Y’all should raffle that shit for charity,” said Dylan’s brother, with what was either perplexity or disgust.
“Don’t give them ideas. They’d eat me if they could,” said Dylan. “How was Mexico?”
“Lots of fifty-k.” The boys snickered at some private joke. “You’ll have to come with me next time.”
Bethany cut in to introduce herself, smiling and struggling to conceal how badly Joel Whitley perplexed her. He hardly resembled the boy she’d seen in the scandalous pictures that had caused such a stir around town years ago, the pictures Bethany had sworn to Dylan she’d never seen.
And, the pictures notwithstanding, could anyone really blame Bethany for being surprised to discover that a man with such thick arms as Joel Whitley could have such a faggy voice?
Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course. Bethany was a very modern girl.
She gave Paulette her biggest hug. “Will I be seeing you at the church service this Sunday?” Paulette asked.
“Ofcourse.” Bethany elbowed Dylan in the side. He laughed and squeezed her hip. She said, “At least one of us should be there this weekend.”
“Are you going somewhere?” asked Joel, sounding surprised.
Dylan opened his mouth, hesitated.
Oh, Bethany thought. Joel didn’t know.
“I’m just going for a little fishing trip,” Dylan said after a beat. He hugged his mother without meeting Joel’s eye. “KT’s family got a place in G-town.”
Joel looked confused.
“Galveston,” KT Staler said, stepping over from the sideline with that little sneer he always wore these days. “Down at the coast?”
A flash of lightning broke through the glare of the halogen lights. Thunder followed a moment later, so close Bethany felt the field tremble beneath her feet.
Joel dug his car keys from his pocket, eyed his brother. “I was going to talk to you about something, D.”
“Don’t be out late, sweetheart,” Paulette said, glancing at the sky. “It looks nasty tonight.”
“We’ll be back Sunday,” Dylan told Joel. “I’ll text you in the morning, yeah?”
The brothers embraced again. “Drive safe,” said Joel.
Bethany almost felt bad for him.
When Joel was gone, Jamal said, “He seems chill.”
The four of them started back toward the field house. KT said, “His hair’s gay as fuck.”
“That hair probably cost more than your house,” Dylan said.
“Least my house ain’t gay as fuck.”
“Hey,” Bethany said to KT. “Is Kimbra okay?”
KT said nothing.
Dylan passed Bethany her Sharpie. He patted her ass, murmured, “You ready for tonight?”
Her heart fluttered. She touched her tongue to her lip. “As I’ll ever be.”
They stopped outside the field house. Even after everything this town had put them through, after all of the tumult and tears and baring of the heart, when Bethany felt Dylan focus his full attention on her, when he rested a hand on the small of her back in that easy way of his, she still went warm.
