Brooks. I mouthed his name.
He stared at me, question in his eyes.
Reece leaned in and said something. I saw Brooks glare at him. I saw Reece’s sheepish shrug followed by his I-told-you-so grin.
Brooks pulled the towel from his nose. His eye was already turning black and blue, but he didn’t let go of my gaze.
Dad’s grip on me loosened.
I took a step forward.
The chainlink fence stood between me and the field, but Brooks started toward me.
His dad reached for him, and I saw Brooks shrug him off.
And then.
It was just the two of us.
There wasn’t an opposing team, there wasn’t Reece, there wasn’t Lia in my back pocket, or Dad beside me, or Brooks’s parents, or coach, or other bystanders.
It was just Brooks and me.
He came up to the fence, curling his fingers through the metal links.
I met him there.
“Did you—?” He asked.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine.” He said, though he obviously wasn’t.
“Reece and Lia—” I started.
“I know,” he nodded, then winced. His eye looked like it was swelling shut. His nose had stopped bleeding, but Brooks kind of looked like he might need to take a break.
“You need to sit down,” I recommended.
“Did you know they were going to put that on the sign?” he asked.
I shook my head.
His eyes darkened. He ignored the coach’s shout for him. He ignored his mom’s call.
“I haven’t been honest,” he blurted out.
“Me neither,” I admitted.
“The whole fake dating thing—I wish it was real.”
His blue eyes never wavered. He captivated me. Even with the fence between us, he somehow had grabbed hold of me with his words and pulled me to him.
“Me too,” I whispered.
“Is it true?” he asked. “The message on the board?”
I glanced at it. I was done pretending. I was done with not being truthful. So I nodded.
