I notice the dots start to dance and the anticipation of his response greets me with anxiety, but his text elicits confusion more than anything.
Can you meet me by the fountain after school?
Uhh… sure.
But don’t you have practice?
Exactly. Everyone will be on the other side of the school.
Well, okay then. I guess I’ll meet you over there. But Zach, we have to let Brayden know soon.
We’ll talk more after school.
Ihearthis message before turning and looking at myself in the mirror. I can’t believe I’ve been flaunting Zach’s football number all day. But also having that knowledge does make me feel kind of special. I wonder just how many people have noticed andwhohas noticed.
I decide that there could be worse things to have happened, so I fix my shirt, tuck my phone back in my pocket and head back to class. Proudly sporting number twenty-nine.
The bell for the end of last period just rang, and I start to pack up my things as students rush out of the classroom. I attempt to join them, eager to get to the fountain before student council, wanting to make sure I have enough time to see Zach, but before I can make it out the door, a familiar voice stops me.
“Cade, why are you wearing Zach’s shirt?”
Oh, shit.I mean, I knew this was coming. We share our last class together. I knew I should have just flipped it inside out earlier, but I was stubborn and now, I have to lie to my brother . . . again.
“Oh, umm…” I look down at my shirt and then back up to Brayden who has a very strong puzzled look in his eyes.
Just stick to the plan, Cadence.
“Yeah, so I spilled some juice on my shirt this morning and I was on my way to the bathroom when Zach saw me and offered to just lend me this shirt,” I say as I playfully pull at the seam of the fabric as I plaster a smile on my face.
There. Plain and simple right? No reason to question anything else or ask any more questions.
I stare at him for a second wondering if he's going to say anything and the silence between us grows a tad awkward.
“Oh…” Brayden finally trails off. “Well, that was nice of him I guess.”
I lean up on my toes and rock back, staring at Brayden who seems to be somewhat convinced but not one hundred percent convinced.
“Yep,” I say, trying not to sound too desperate to avoid this conversation because that would be suspicious.But I do really want to get the hell out of here.
“Think you can change back out of it? People are talking.”
“They are?” Curiosity licks at my brain but I don’t really put too much thought into it. I guess it makes sense. I mean, I had no idea I was showing up to school with Zach’s number plastered on my back. I'm sure a few people saw it and thought nothing of it while others speculated something wild. I haven't heard a word one way or the other.
“Umm, yeah. My sweater should be dry by now,” I tell my brother, knowing damn well that I didn’t change out of any clothes this morning.
I look out at the clock behind his head and see that time is ticking and I have to hurry.
“Well, okay then,” I say as I smile awkwardly at him. “Gotta get to SC now so, talk to you later.” I clutch my books to my chest and turn, not waiting for him to approve or to come up with something else to ask. I exit the classroom feeling a sense of guiltsink into my gut while simultaneously feeling relief to be out of his presence.
I rush over to Ryen’s locker, since it’s closer to the entry where the fountain is, and stuff all of my things in it. I go to slam the door shut but then I spot something, my purple sweater. Well, if that’s not a sign. I don’t even remember putting this in here.
I decide to discreetly put it on, if only to appease my brother in case I see him again. I pull it over the football shirt and then removing the shirt out from under my sweater. Once I get that done, I fold the shirt into the lock and close the door. I look behind me, making sure that my surely suspicious brother didn’t follow me and isn’t watching me, before dipping down the hall and toward the exit near the school’s water fountain.
I swipe my palms against my leggings, feeling the nerves start to grow the closer I get. A few kids walk past me but none of them look at me as I keep walking, the fountain finally coming into view. I look around, making sure no one else is lingering as I round the cement edge of the fountain and see Zach standing on the other side.
He’s dressed fully in his football suit, pads, jersey, cleats and helmet. And I have to admit that as good as he looks in the lights on the field every Friday night, something about seeing him suited in the daylight just does something to me.
He turns to look at me, likely hearing my footsteps and I smile at him, closing the space between us. He holds his helmet in his hand at his side and he immediately pulls me in when I’m close enough. I reach up on my toes and kiss him, reveling in the way it feels to be in his arms again.
