Krista shook her head and glanced at Rye. “He was late to his own birthday party once, you should know. I’ll tell you the story another time. Made me so mad, I swear.”
Jake groaned. “God, please don’t, Kris.”
“Itisa pretty embarrassing story, I suppose, I mean, youdid—”
“Kris.”
Krista stopped, her brown eyes twinkling as she winked at Rye. And his eyes darted to Jake, whose face was now bright red. Rye tried not to laugh, but he maybe only half succeeded, and Jake shook his head as he stepped up around Rye to give Krista another of those big, warm-looking hugs, like the one they’d exchanged the night before.
“You’re awful, Kris, you know that.”
“Happy to see you, too,” Krista joked, and Rye watched, wrapping one arm around his midsection, as an unfamiliar tug in his chest pulled him slightly off balance.
He wondered what that hug felt like.
Itlookedlike safety. Like warmth and safety and that feeling he had of comfort and steadiness and assurance whenever Jake’s hand found his back.
He’d managed to let Phil hug him twice now, and those hugs had felt good. His mom also hugged him all the time, and her hugs felt like a safe place,almostlike how he imagined it might feel if... if Jake hugged him. Only, Jake was bigger, stronger, taller. So maybe his hug would feel even more safe and even more reassuring.
Maybe his hug would feel even more likehome.
Krista pulled back out of the hug and grinned up at Jake before looking at Rye again with a silly smile. “I’ll be back in a few. Keep him out of trouble, would you? I’ve gotta head down to get pictures when they do march in. Phil starts on rings, which he’s not entirely excited about, but it’s all good. I—”
Some announcement came that the gymnasts’ warm-up was over and that gymnasts should head back to get ready for march in, and Krista nearly jumped.
“Ack, I gotta go. Be back shortly. Phil’s wearing a gray-and-yellow uniform. He’s hard to miss.” She promptly turned and jogged down the steps, leaving Jake and Rye by themselves at the top of the bleachers.
Rye pursed his lips and looked over at Jake, trying to hide his amusement. Jake sighed a dramatic, fake sigh, and Rye couldn’t hold back anymore. He huffed a laugh and shook his head.You and your sister have the weirdest relationship, he wanted to say. But there were too many people around, and that made it much harder to say anything at all, even something that simple and even if he were speaking just to Jake.
“Here, let’s sit?” Jake suggested, stepping out of the way and motioning to Rye to take a seat partway down the short row between the stairs and the corner.
After they both got settled, Jake said, “It’s better up here, yeah?”
And Rye nodded. It was. And with not many other people up in their little corner of the bleachers and Jake sitting right next to him, close enough that he could feel Jake’s warmth, he felt safer.
He felt . . . okay.
“Thatwassoamazing!Mom, did you see my pommel horse score! I got a perfect execution score from one of the judges. My coach flipped! I mean, not literally flipped, of course. But . . .” Phil kept going on as the four of them walked outside the convention center toward where Jake had parked his car, the early afternoon sun shining brightly overhead.
Rye couldn’t really understand much of what Phil was saying, but the boy’s excitement was contagious, and Rye found himself grinning, just like Phil, as the boy bounced ahead of them a few feet and then turned around, laughing and holding his silver medal in his hand.
“So! Ice cream? Right, Mom?” Phil asked, smiling up at his mom with eagerness in his eyes.
Rye felt it too—that eagerness, and at the mention of ice cream, he was reminded of his mom’s text from that morning. He waved a hand to get Phil’s attention, then stopped walking and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked the screen and scrolled through the more recent texts with his mom—updates and pictures he’d taken and sent her during the competition and awards ceremony—until he reached her text from that morning. He pointed to it and showed the screen to Phil.
“Hmm, rolled ice cream. Mom, what’s that? Rye’s mom says there’s a place nearby that’s supposed to be good. We should go there!” Phil bounced away again, and Rye laughed as he put his phone back in his pocket, not entirely sure how Phil could have so much energy after his four-plus-hour gymnastics competition.
“Not to cut your time with Uncle Jake and Rye short, but we’re supposed to meet with your teammates for lunch, remember?” Krista said.
Phil frowned but then nodded and looked at Rye. “Sorry, Rye, maybe we can try that ice cream another time? Thank you for coming to watch me!” He turned to Jake. “And youtoo, Uncle Jake!”
They stood there in the parking lot for a few minutes saying their goodbyes, and Rye got another wonderful hug from Phil. He wished he was brave enough to ask for one from Krista, but he knew he wasn’t quite there yet. He did, however, manage to tell Phil congratulations—actually say the word aloud—and the way Phil’s eyes brightened made it worth all the effort it had taken for him to force the word out.
Then, they parted ways—Krista and Phil headed toward where they’d parked in a different part of the lot, while Jake and Rye continued on toward Jake’s car. Jake was quiet the rest of the walk, and when Rye looked over at him, Jake seemed deep in thought, his usual soft expression a little tight. A trickle of unease spread through Rye’s chest, and he quickly looked back ahead, focusing on each of his steps.
But the feeling of unease continued to build.
In the car a few minutes later, Rye fastened his seat belt and set his hands on his thighs, overcome by uncertainty and an odd stiffness and an intense, overwhelming urge to be much smaller and take up less space and... and hide. A flush of unsteadiness rocked him, and he closed his eyes and pressed his palms down, the thin paper wristband he still wore crackling as it scraped against his jeans.
