“I’ve watched you and Ember act like this for almost two months,” Brody says. “Deal with it.”
I hold up my hands. “Feel free to suck face. I’m not going to stop you.”
“I will,” Alyssa chimes, playfully pushing away Brody’s face when he leans in. “My lips are still burning from the last time you kissed me.” She smacks her lips together.
“Mine too,” Ember says from her place beside me. We’re tucked in a booth in the back of the restaurant. The wing challenge is over, and I won. I ate the wings, even though it felt like real flames were shooting from my mouth. I drank a huge glass of milk after in an attempt to cool it down, and I did it faster than Brody.
I won.
Ember won’t let me kiss her now, so I suppose I’m paying the price.
“Did Dad tell you who’s coming for a tour next weekend?” Brody sips his beer and licks the froth from his top lip. He looks around for our server, and when he’s certain she isn’t there, he pushes the glass across the table to me.
I take a small sip. “Who?”
“Anton Dalto.”
I freeze. Everything in my world has just come to a screeching halt.
“I know.” Brody nods. “I don’t think he’s coming to try Dad’s new varietal.”
Maybe he is. Maybe Dalto loves wine. It’s probably a coincidence.
“Who is Anton Dalto?” Ember asks.
“The head coach of the soccer team at Stanford,” Brody answers. I’m glad he responded to her, because I can’t right now. My words are frozen right along with the rest of my limbs. Brody points at me. “He’s coming with his family, so you better be there helping dad with the tour.” His tone has changed. He’s changed into his big brother pants.
“Noah, this is amazing!” Ember tugs my arm, and warmth floods back into my body.
My brain is still grappling with the information. Anton Dalto was one of the best players in the world before his retirement four years ago. His wife wanted to live in the States, and they chose California. I’ve been watching him play since I was young, cheered him on as he scored four goals in a single World Cup game, and led his team to victory in a stunning shut-out. Last year, when I wanted to work on ball handling with my left foot, I watched old videos of him running down the field, leading his team.
They’ve already chosen their team.
It’s important I remember that. Dalto’s not coming to the vineyard to recruit me. Brody is wrong.
Finally the fog lifts from my thoughts and I refocus on my brother. He looks worried, and I realize he’s waiting on a response from me.
“Yeah, of course I’ll be there.”
Relief rearranges his features, and he adopts a shaky smile. “I know they’ve already recruited, but you never know, Noah. You just never know. If anything, this better positions you for a walk-on.”
Alyssa snuggles into his side, and he turns to her, taken away by whatever it is she’s saying.
I can hardly hear anything. My mind is buzzing like a beehive took up residence in my skull.
Dalto… At my vineyard… Breathing the same air as me…
“Are you excited?” Ember breaks through my thoughts. She slips her hand into mine and squeezes.
“Yeah.” My voice doesn’t give away any of what I’m feeling inside. If I let myself, I’ll start running away with half-baked ideas of somehow convincing Dalto to give me a shot.
“Good. You should be.” She smiles up at me, the whites of her eyes shiny, her cheeks a rosy hue. They hold no fear of our future. No worry of what a visit from Dalto could mean for me. For us.
“You’re better than all other bests,” I say. “Even combined, you’re better than every best that could ever be.” Does Ember know that? Does she understand how rare she is? How rare what we have is?
Instead of responding, she kisses me. Deeply, sweetly, in that way she has that makes all my surroundings blur.
“Get a room,” Brody calls from across the table. Alyssa smacks his arm.
