But I didn’t immediately get out of the car, because it was really a far distance to the bleachers. “What if we took your wheelchair?” I suggested. “You wouldn’t have to sit in it, but we would have it just in case…”
“No, and I don’t need my cane, either! Are you kidding?” my sister asked me, her voice taut. “Are you joking right now?”
I hadn’t been, and this was one of the reasons that we didn’t go out as much as we should have. I wasn’t strong enough to physically support her the way she needed and that was my fault. “Ok,” I agreed, and I kept the thought in the back of my mind that I could always return to the car to get it for her, and maybe she would use it. Maybe.
I had brought a lot of blankets to cover her and also a soft seat, the special one that was most comfortable and also the sturdiest.I was glad for all that because the bleachers would have been awful with no padding on the cold metal or protection from the wind, but it was a lot to carry. Willow would need to lean on my arm, too, so I turned one of the blankets into a pack to hold our gear, and then I tied it to my back.
“You look ridiculous,” she told me. “Like a donkey.”
I knew that. “I have to bring all this or we’ll get cold,” I answered shortly.
“I don’t want people to stare at us.”
“There aren’t any people here to stare,” I snapped back. That was probably because these games were boring and nobody liked to get frostbite. I hadn’t wanted to come either, because I had plenty that I should have done instead. We needed groceries, for example, and I had school stuff. I was going to lead a few lessons next week with the new fourth grade class and I had wanted to start prepping for those, as well as doing some reading that was my own homework. And the house was a mess, which I didn’t like, and I needed to figure out how much new tires would cost because mine were looking very worn, and…
The list was long and boring, like it always was. “Let’s just go,” I muttered. At least someone had shoveled the path that led from the parking lot to the field, but it was still rutted and it was still a long way to walk. We had to be very careful and I was panting by the time we arrived at the bleachers, which proved how out of shape I was.
Willow noticed, too. “You’re so red,” she told me. Her own face looked drawn beneath the pretty makeup.
Yes, and I was hot despite the temperature and already tired. I should have said no to this. “I’m fine. This is a good place to sit,” I suggested as I pointed to the bottom row. But she wanted to go up higher, a lot higher, saying that we’d be able to see the game better. As if she’d ever cared about football, even when she’d had friends on the varsity team—she really wanted to be up higher so that she could watch for Boyd. Then she’d be able to see him during the game, too, and also the people he’d come with.
“I don’t know how high we can get,” I told her, but Willow was determined to try. We made it up a few steps before I was actually grunting with effort. She had lost so much weight, and she hadn’t been very big to begin with. But I still wasn’t strong enough to carry her and she looked exhausted, too.
She wouldn’t admit that. “I’m fine, Zoey! Stop staring at me like I’m in a zoo,” she ordered. I set up the chair and she had me sit in a way that blocked the sight of it, and she also had me drape the pink blanket I’d brought over her shoulders because, since she was a blonde, it had always been a great color on her. In fact, the Homecoming dress…
There was no need to think about that. My sister wasn’t remembering it right now either, which was a good thing. “Take the blue. That’s better for you,” she said.
She was correct. My hair was brown like our dad’s, but in this bright sunlight, you could see that it had a lot of red, too. Like Willow, I also had his dark blue eyes. Maybe this blanket would make them pop? Not out of my head, but with a pretty color that people would notice? There was always a chance.
But my primary focus was the warmth of my sister. I forced her to pull her hood over her hat, and when she wasn’t paying attention, I scooted myself even closer so that I would block the wind better. Slowly, more fans did trickle in, especially for the visiting team out of Lexington, but there certainly wasn’t a big crowd and there was still no partying in the parking lot. It seemed kind of weird to me that the pro team would have so many loyal fans, but so few would turn up for their junior friends.
“Are they any good?” I asked my sister, who shrugged. Maybe they truly sucked, and that was why it was so empty? Or maybe people just strongly disliked sitting outside for hours in January, which I could understand. Cold didn’t bother me too much but I didn’t seek it out for fun activities, either.
What fun activities did I currently participate in? I thought about it. My best friend, a super-talented flute player, had gone away to college in Iowa and was in their marching band. We texted sometimes but we were both very busy, and there were only a few of us who had remained local. We got together every now and then for coffee or something, but again…I was busy.
I was just so busy, and I tried not to think of all the things I could have been doing at this moment rather than sitting next to my shivering sister at a football game. Maybe I should have brought some work to do here—
“There’s Boyd! No, don’t look,” Willow said. She had reached out to clutch my forearm, and even through the thick insulation of her mitten and with my heavy coat on, I could still feel her fingers digging in. She was trying not to show her excitement atthe sight of him, and I was trying not to seethe. We didn’t live in a huge place, and it wasn’t as if I had totally avoided him over the years. I reacted the same way every time, even if I’d only seen him for a second when he passed by me on the road: my heart sped up, my breathing got fast, and I felt the urge to hurt him like he’d hurt my sister. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he and a woman traversed the rutted path towards us and I wished as hard as I could that he would fall.
“Fall. Fall!” I muttered.
“What did you say?” Willow was smiling like she’d heard something funny, and then she even laughed. She’d done it loudly but it was mistimed, because Boyd wasn’t close enough to hear her yet.
“Who’s that girl he’s with?” I asked. “I don’t recognize her.”
“You’re not supposed to look! It’s not his girlfriend,” she told me.
“How do you know? You are following him again,” I accused, and she shrugged.
“Not with my own accounts. I made up some fake ones and he doesn’t know it’s me,” she said. She was still grinning like I was hilarious and she was having so much fun. “Do I have lipstick on my teeth?”
“No, but he’s not looking at you, either.”
She immediately lost the smile. “Is she pretty?”
“I thought that wasn’t his girlfriend, and also, I’m not supposed to look,” I reminded her. “Oh, geez. I think he just spotted you.”
My sister handled it so well, but she’d always had a way with guys. Without moving her mouth, she told me to fix my eyes directly on the field, as if I was fascinated by the refs who were being battered by the wind out there. Slowly and casually, she turned her head toward where Boyd and the woman had sat down. She jumped a little with fake surprise and then smiled at him, folding her mittened hand open and shut in a wave. I gave up watching the refs and saw that he did wave back. He and the woman leaned toward each other and seemed to talk. They got up and walked to the other end of the bleachers, the farthest possible place from our location and where the fans of the opposing team had camped. We couldn’t see them anymore.
