Liv chews thoughtfully. “Got it. Anything else?”
Before I can reply, the tablet on the coffee table pings, and Indie’s face fills the screen.
“Hellooooo, nerds,” she singsongs, Seb waving behind her with a mouthful of food.
“About time,” Quinn says, grinning as she leans forward to get a better look at her brother. “You look like you haven’t seen sunlight in days.”
“It’s Seattle,” Seb replies, deadpan. “I haven’t.”
Hudson leans back against the couch, one arm draped lazily behind Daphne. “You gonna be this dramatic when we play you next month, or are you saving it for the press conferences?”
Seb’s eyes flick to the screen like he’s been waiting for the jab. “I don’t need drama to win. I have skill.”
“Oh jeez,” Miles mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “Here we go.”
Liv looks between them, eyebrows raised. “Wait—you two are playing each other soon?”
“Yup,” Hudson says, and I make a mental note to deliver those caramel M&M’s for him. “Primetime.”
“National broadcast,” Seb adds, smug now.
Hudson leans back, smirking. “Perfect. Everyone gets to watch me sack your pretty-boy ass in HD.”
Seb doesn’t even blink. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
“You run like someone who’s used to throwing the ball away and blaming the O-line.”
“And you tackle like you’re still trying to impress your high school coach,” Seb shoots back. Seb lifts his sandwich like a toast. “See you on the field, big guy.”
Hudson tips his slice of pizza back. “Can’t wait.”
“Is this foreplay?” Indie asks. “Should we log off?”
“Please do,” I mutter. “For all our sakes.”
I miss this on the field and the locker room talk. We’ve all spent years on the same team in some way, and now that’s fractured, and I really want to find a way to get part of that back.You should probably apply for more jobs in that case.Even my subconscious is pissy at that.
Indie laughs at something her best friend, Quinn, says, distracting me, then shifts the camera so it steadies more on her face. “Anyway. Are we actually scrapbooking tonight?”
“We’re definitely scrapbooking,” Daphne says, flipping open one of her books. The room shifts, that familiar rhythm kicking in as everyone starts to settle into their own spots. Quinn opens her box of neatly labeled supplies and puts it out for everyone to use. Miles helps her, and before we know it, there’s an entire craft store laid out.
“Jesus,” Liv breathes. “You guys are real passionate about scrapbooking.” She glances around, a crease forming between her brows. “So... do we all do the same layout, or—?”
“Nope,” I say, grabbing my own book and flipping it open. “Everyone does their own thing. Quinn’s just the scrapbook whisperer.”
“I prefer curator of vibes,” Quinn says, without looking up.
“Do you always document stuff like... daily life?”
“Mostly,” I say. “Some big moments. But it’s more about keeping track of the small ones for me.”
“Huh.” She goes quiet for a moment, then points to a Polaroid on my page. “What’s that one?”
“Farmers market,” I say. “I take my Polaroid camera there and sometimes see Daphne’s brother—”
“Oh, I miss Finn. He doesn’t scrapbook?”
“Sometimes he does, but he’s busy with Professor, uh, I mean, Foxx tonight,” Daphne says.
