‘Sure ’bout that?’ He gives me that stupid billion-watt smile of his, the one that pulls you straight to him like a magnet. ‘We just gonna stand here?’
‘Absolutely not.’
I don’t know if it’s because I want to prove him wrong, or because I’m starting to find myself drawn further into his orbit than I’d like to confess, but this time, when we kiss, it’s not like the last. Our bodies melt into one another, my pulse thumping in time with his. His fingers tangle themselves up in the strands of hair sticking out the sides of my ponytail. The smell of his cologne and the taste of coffee on his lips are impossible to ignore, no matter how much I tell myself this is for everyone but us, no matter how much I try to focus on the rising screams of the crowd. I grip him tight like I’ve got a point to make. And honestly, maybe I do.
‘COME ON!’ Jordan’s full-volume shout saves me from any more rumination about what the hell I’m doing, startling us apart. Colt just shoots me such an easy, sheepish grin. Is he deep in the same thought I am, with all his simple smiles and effortless gestures?
Jordan rushes over and grabs my arm, her ponytail in disarray from a dive into the student section. ‘RIVALRY TROPHY!’
We’re pulled away from the sidelines in a sea of teammates, and in all the chaos, even as we take the field to raise the rivalrytrophy, a tall gold piece of hardware adorned with a statue of a cowboy atop a rearing horse, Colt holds tight to my hand. Maybe this time he’s the one holding on, but I can’t say I want to let go, either.
Chapter Thirty
Top Ched
Colt
Once the team washes up after trophy presentation and photos, it’s straight back to formal wear for us as we hit the Riders’ victory banquet. Multiple plates of all-you-can-eat buffet later, we head home full, content and exhausted, May and I back to the house together.
I pull the truck onto the driveway, and May stifles a yawn. ‘I’m going to go change and get to bed, Colt.’
‘Yeah – wait.’ I almost forgot. And with the end of the regular season, the Riders off to playoffs, I don’t think there’s any better time for this. I swallow hard. Nerves? I’m definitely nervous. ‘Can you follow me really quickly? There’s just something I wanted to show you.’
‘Oh?’ She moves to grab her duffel, but I hold out a handand take it for her. She doesn’t look nearly as tired as she did a moment ago.
I lead the way around the side of the house, unlocking the fence to the backyard. We have one of those yards that stretches on and on, until you hit a dip where a little pond sits. Closest to the house is my mom’s garden, farther out the stretch that we always used for family Thanksgiving football games. I flick on the floodlights attached to the back patio, and they light up the brand-new lacrosse field.
Lacrosse field is a loose term for it. It’s far from perfect, but I tried my best. Mowed it all, bought nets, sprayed the white lines on the grass, midline, face-off circle, the X, all the things.
‘Holy … shit.’ May’s jaw goes slightly slack. ‘What is this?’
Still in pantsuit and heels, she jogs straight onto the field, right to the circle. ‘Did you make this?’ she calls, arms raised. ‘Colt! This isbeautiful!’
I’ve seen May happy before – after games, with a trophy in her arms, when she’s with her family or her horses – but this is different. I’ve never seen her weightless the way she is when she does a full three-sixty, taking in the makeshift field. She looks my way with the broadest smile on her face, her eyes creasing happily, and she gestures dramatically to the nets, the pitch of her voice rising excitedly. ‘GOALS! You got goals?’
‘Yep.’ I grin with a shrug. ‘Seeing as the last set got launched into space.’
‘Wow.’ May grabs the ball I’d left in one of the nets. ‘Well, bring the sticks! Come play!’
I grab her sticks from the bag, but those last words –come play– are like trying to swallow a big-ass painkiller. The joyI feel at watching her light up starts to fall away, because I can’t. I literally can’t play, and I don’t know what to do about it, because May Velasco is asking me to join her for a round on the field I’ve made for us. May, who has practically defined every stage of my life even more than the game has. If I say ‘no’, it will prove her right. It will prove that I never cared enough.
I kick myself when I watch the smile slowly fall from her face, too. She doesn’t deserve that. It’s not something she needs to worry about, now or ever.
‘Oh, Colt.’ Her shoulders slump, and it kills a little part of my heart. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …’
‘No, um …’ I shift my grip on the sticks. I know I’m going to be shit, but I don’t want to ruin this for her. ‘It’s okay. Only way out is through, right?’
A crease of worry forms between May’s eyebrows, but she nods. ‘Just … try and clear your head.’
A small, wistful smile tips up one side of my mouth. ‘You were better than me at that, you know. Every chance you got. First place you’d go was the field.’
She shakes her head with a tiny scoff. ‘I was flighty. The way I’d just disappear to play … my parents hated it.’
‘Disappear’ was about accurate. But May was one of the first people I knew who truly found their place in the game – found solace there. Maybe that was why when I fell for her, I really fell for lacrosse, too.
‘It was easier when we were younger, wasn’t it?’ I pass May her stick before heading to a big backyard bin off to the side to grab mine. ‘To just play, clear your head?
May laughs at my quip. ‘Everything was easier when we wereyounger. Lacrosse was easier. Responsibilities were easier. It was easier to …’
