This is an easy one. Finally, I’m back in my element. “I would. Really, but I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Don’t worry, we have plenty of time before the game starts. We’ll swing by your place and you can change.”
My smile grows because I’ve won this.
“I don’t own any Giants gear.” I’m poor Mother Hubbard. My cupboards are bare. The rhyme makes me laugh and I stand up ready to search out my clothes from last night and get a move on. The white sheet comes with me as I rip it from the bed and wrap it around my naked body.
“Not a problem. We’ll buy you a shirt before the game.” He stands on the other side of the bed letting his nakedness hang out.
I whip around and give him the best no-nonsense expression. “Do you know how expensive that would be? You are not buying me Giants clothes for one game.”
He walks past me into the living room, unfazed by my declaration. “Fine, you can borrow one I already own but I’m sure we’ll go to many games so it will be worth it.”
I follow and stop in the living room as he stands in front of the large bathroom mirror. “Are you going to get dressed?” I ask as he leans over the sink putting toothpaste on a toothbrush.
“Yes. After a shower. I thought we could take one together.”
A scoff escapes my mouth and Grant turns his head at the noise, the toothbrush hanging out between his closed lips. “I’m not taking a shower with you.”
He spits in the sink using another few seconds to rinse his mouth. “I very well can’t take one alone.”
I let my eyes circle the room looking for my clothes and spot the white tank top on the back of the couch. “Why not?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Clare. We both know the minute I step into a shower you’d be out of here faster than Quicksilver on an energy drink.”
“I’m not even sure what that means.”
Grant laughs but turns back to the bathroom and grabs a towel off the shelf above the toilet. “I think you do.”
Arggh. Damn Drew making me watch those X-Men movies. I do. The sheets billow out around me as I plop on the couch. I’d put up a bigger fight, but I guess spending one more day with Grant at a Giants game wouldn’t be the end of the world.
**
My foot sticks on the edge of the step and I trip, falling upward. Grant catches me, but my palm still scrapes across the dirty floor. “Where are the seats again?”
“Finn has a box.”
Holding on to Grant’s arm, I make it two more steps before I ask. “You mean like an owner’s box?”
“No.” Grant laughs. “Finn doesn’t own the Giants, although I’m sure he wishes he did. It’s a regular suite where we can watch the game from the comfy couches. The rooms are nice. They bring you snacks and stuff.”
He says “regular suite” likeregularpeople will ever get to watch a game from one of them. I stalled for as long as possible, but we still made the game in time. Grant took a shower at my place even though I freaked out he wouldn’t find it clean enough. His bathroom is spotless because someone cleans it for him every day. Drew and I argue over who has to wipe his spit off the mirror.
While Grant showered, I hurried to try and sneak out before he finished. I was super close to making my escape, but Drew stopped me at the front door. I’m beginning to think he’s on Grant’s side in this whole debacle.
He used a guilt trip of epic proportions, the size of which I haven’t seen since he needed me as his wing man to help him score a date with Charlene Wilkinson back in twelfth grade. A few compliments on her new school wardrobe was all it took to get her to Mrs. Haverbush’s house for an afternoon. But my work blew up on our faces when she realized we lived in a foster home. Drew couldn’t get her to look at him again and I wrote her off as the big bitch she was. One day when Drew is super rich and awesome she’ll be sorry she snubbed her nose at him.
He pleaded.
He begged.
He told me about how it was his dream to attend a Giants game. Grant offered him a seat as well, but Drew had to work. The least I could do was enjoy the afternoon for him.
Grant did win a few points for inviting my best friend even if he couldn’t come. Drew will spend his Saturday afternoon helping his boss with family drama — wedding prep or something — and I would spend my Saturday watching a bunch of hot men throw a baseball back and forth. I guess it could be worse.
Of course, I could have done without the big brother lecture about what I’m running from and when I plan to acknowledge it. I have enough inner turmoil about my situation. I don’t need Drew adding to it.
Grant walks through an open door like he’s done it a hundred times, but I pause at the opening. The room is a basic square shape, but I’m overwhelmed by the Giants feel. Every area screams Giants. The bright orange stools are lined up against a bar on the back side of the suite. Jerseys and newspaper clippings hang on the walls highlighting the team’s achievements.
