“Do what?” Jake sounded genuinely confused, and Rye laughed lightly as he looked up at his friend again.
“You knew what I wanted to say,” Rye explained. Jake pursed his lips, and for a moment, Rye thought he looked kind of cute like that. It was a strange thought, and Rye ignored it as he continued. “You do that sometimes. And... and you knew exactly what to sayto meto make me... not feel so... bad.”
Jake dropped his gaze to his mug as he wrapped both hands around the ceramic. “Ah, um, well, I’m not sure.”
“It was a rhetorical question,” Rye said, hoping he’d used the word right. And when Jake laughed and glanced back up at Rye with silliness in his eyes, Rye grinned. “I said that right, yeah? Rhetorical?”
“You did.” Jake’s voice was low and deep, and there was some emotion in it that Rye couldn’t place, but it seemed to contrast with his playful expression.
Rye just grinned again. “Good.”
He took the last bite of his bagel and finished the rest of his tea, and Jake did the same. Then, Jake grabbed his wallet and keys, and the two of them headed out for the short drive to the convention center.
Rye’s excitement continued to build the closer they got, and that low-level nervousness only tugged at him again when Jake drove past the huge building. It stretched on and on and on, big block letters in bright red announcing it as the Reno-Sparks Convention Center. They had to drive past it and make a right turn down at a stoplight before they could turn into the parking lot.
Jake glanced at him from the driver’s seat as he pulled the car into the lot. “You okay still?” he asked, and Rye managed a nod. “Good. Let me know, though, okay? This is supposed to be fun, and if there’s anything I can do to make this experience more comfortable for you, I will. Okay?”
The words felt so warm and kind, and Rye nodded. “Yeah. I will,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”
Jake pursed his lips again and then shifted his focus to finding them a parking spot. Not more than a minute or so later, they pulled into an empty spot, and Jake turned the car off. Rye noticed Jake hadn’t pulled out his blue accessible parking pass, which Rye had only seen him use a handful of times a while ago, when his leg had been bothering him more. However, Jake did reach into the back seat and grab his cane.
“I shouldn’t need it,” Jake said. “But I’ll bring it just in case. I’m not sure exactly how far we have to walk.”
Rye gave him a small smile and nod, and then he looked out the windshield toward the building. Itwasbig—bigger than any other building Rye could remember seeing before. Well, except for maybe some of the huge skyscrapers they’d passed on their drive into Reno. He found himself worrying for a new reason, and he glanced back to Jake.
“You could . . . park closer?”
Jake had started to get out of the car, but he paused and lifted his eyebrows with what might have been confusion.
Rye shook his head. “I don’t... want you to hurt. There are closer parking spots. Maybe, um...”
The softness in Jake’s eyes as he smiled sent some strange warmth to Rye’s cheeks.
“Oh, I’ll be okay. Really,” Jake assured him. “It’s more of a concern if we have to go up or down a bunch of stairs or something. I’ll be fine just walking on the flat ground. Um, thank you, though, for thinking about me.”
Rye grinned. “That’s what friends are for,” he said, repeating Phil’s words from the night before.
And Jake just gazed at him for a moment, that same softness in his eyes. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Together, they got out of the car, and Rye followed as Jake led the way toward the entrance. It was indeed a long walk, and Rye had no doubt that if he were by himself, he would have gotten lost almost immediately. But Jake seemed to have no trouble navigating them to “Hall 3.” When they arrived, Jake paid their entrance fee and also bought a program, and then he helped Rye put on his wristband.
The feel of the thin paper on his wrist was distracting enough for a few minutes that he could almost forget the heavy crowds of people milling about around them.Almost.Jake stayed close, and they walked into the competition area through a set of huge double doors. The brightly lit room was uncomfortably warm, at least to Rye, and he hesitated as his stomach dropped.
He wanted to say something. Something like,There’s a lot of people. I’m not so sure anymore. It’s maybe too much.But he knew he couldn’t speak then—the all-too-familiar heaviness on his chest and tightness in his throat smothering any chance he had of communicating his thoughts to Jake.He closed his eyes, but he could still hear the activity around him—music, an announcer mentioning they had ten more minutes until “march in,” footsteps and laughing and chatter—and he reached up with one hand to grip his opposite arm, squeezing hard.
Almost immediately, Jake’s hand settled lightly on his lower back. “You’re okay, Rye. You’re alright. I see Krista across the way. We can go around the back behind the bleachers, and it’ll be much quieter than right here, where everyone’s coming in and out. Okay? It’ll be okay.”
It’ll be okay.
Rye leaned back slightly, feeling the pressure from Jake’s hand on his back. It steadied him, slowed the uneven racing of his heart, as it so often had. He nodded, hoping Jake would see, and he made himself open his eyes again. Ahead of them, he could see the large, open area where there were a bunch of gymnasts getting ready for their competition. Sets of gymnastics equipment were arranged neatly within the space, and the place was full of people.
“See, up over there, Krista’s waving,” Jake said, pointing toward the far set of bleachers on the other side of the huge room. He gave a little wave just as Rye found Krista as well. Thankfully, Jake was right—that part of the seating area looked like it was much quieter, with only a few other small groups of people nearby. “Here, this way.”
Gently, Jake guided Rye, keeping his hand on Rye’s back, and once they got through the initial crowd near the entrance, it did get quieter. When they reached the set of bleachers at the far side of the room, Jake motioned for Rye to go ahead of him up the metal steps to the top row, his hand temporarily dropping away from Rye’s back.
Krista greeted them with a smile as they reached the highest row of seats. “Good morning, Rye. I’m so glad you could make it.” She turned to Jake. “Little brother. Showing up at the last minute, as always.”
Jake shook his head with a grin. “You said eight thirty. We’re here at”—Jake glanced back over his shoulder at a row of projection screens showing the time—“eight twenty-five. Perfectly on time.”
