Everyone knew this except Emme.
I would’ve noticed her regardless of Brett’s announcement. She was gorgeous and new, two things we didn’t get much of in my town. I might’ve talked to her though I didn’t do much of that in those days. I would’ve liked her and I probably would’ve let her sweep me into her orbit too.
But I knew there was something undeniably right, somethingspecificabout her that fit me like a key in a rusty old lock when I told her to watch out for Kincaid and she replied, “You mean the punk with the slippery hands and slow feet? Yeah, he outed himself as a dick waffle this morning. I asked him if this was his first season on the field. Surprises all around because it’s not. Then I asked whether he knew he wasn’t supposed to be throwing interceptions.” She leaned in, close enough for me to smell the citrus on her. Close enough for that scent to imprint itself on my nervous system. “He made some noise about me not understanding the game and I told him to worry less about my understanding and more about the yards lost to all his sacks.”
She’d dropped her hand to my arm like we’d known each other forever and I remembered walking around all day with the heat of her touch burning me like a brand. I remembered looking at my skin and expecting to see a mark there. But it was the last thing she’d said that stayed with me even longer.
“And then, since he was getting all fired up, I explained that I just don’t go out with players. It’s a homegrown rule. My dad owns a whole-ass football team”—that was back before he destroyed his relationship with her—“so believe me, I have rock-solid reasons.”
I nodded along likeyes, I understand thisbut I was busy snapping off the early buds of hope that’d sprouted at the arrival of this unbelievable girl who knew football and smelled like oranges and laughed at people who tried to give her shit. I foreclosed every possibility that’d surged to the surface when she smiled at me, leaned close to me, touched me.
I could still feel that key breaking in my lock.
Because I had to play. There was no other choice on the table for me. I had to suit up and take the field on Friday nights because it was the one thing my father looked forward to. He’d already lost so much, already struggled with the hopelessness of an ALS diagnosis. The least I could do was play the game he loved. Give him an hour or two where life wasn’t completely fucking awful.
And I was counting on the game to get me out of that town. There wouldn’t be money for me to go to college, not when everything was going into round-the-clock care for my dad, and not when there were four other kids in my family.
I had to play.
It didn’t matter whether this irreverent, fast-talking, half-pint of a girl had crashed into my life and all I wanted was to stay close enough to her that she might touch me again and make me feel a million confusing things at once. She made it seem like we were the only ones in the world, and that world wasn’t nearly as terrible as the one I went home to every night.
I had to play and she didn’t go out with players.
That was how it went with us. Inseparable from that point forward but nevertogether. The difference was slight, the sort of thing that didn’t translate cleanly. I learned every nook and facet of jealousy. I taught myself how to swallow down desire and walk away from possessive envy. I stewed in resentment of the guys she dated—always the most deplorable candidates the species had to offer—but I never let myself resent her.
The thing about that key was that when it broke, it stayed inside me. Waiting for her to come back, to find the remnants and finally turn it.
I’d already asked for so much and probably taken more than I deserved. I wasn’t going to rush her tonight.
Not when I was going to ask for much more very soon.
Claudia: “Boston’s star QB Ryan Ralston announces engagement to girlfriend Emily Ahlborg at Kentucky Derby”
Claudia:
Amber: ok wow so this is really happening
Ruthie: they never get her name right
Chloe: at the Derby?
Mom: RYAN
Chloe: I can think of better places to get engaged
Mom: !!!!!!
Amber: The article just says she was wearing the ring at Derby parties so maybe he popped the question before?
Mom: Is this real?
Gramma CeCe: It’s about damn time
Mom: Ryan, answer your phone!
Ruthie: I’d offer to draft a prenup for you but I don’t want my head ripped off
Mom: RYAN PICK UP YOUR PHONE
