“Feeding the whole section?” the lady jokes.
“No that’s for me,” Amelie says proudly. Nick’s going to kill me if his kid comes home with a sugar high.
“Are you sure you don’t want some candy? I think we left some behind.”
Amelie shakes her head. “No, this is enough.”
A couple of girls come up to Amelie and ask her to come sit on the wall with them. She tells them no, that she’s not allowed, and they tease her for it. I shake my head and pull her close.
“Don’t listen to them. Mack will like knowing you were in the stands cheering for him.”
“They go over there and try to kiss boys. It’s so gross.”
“Tell me about it.”
Hanging out on the wall in middle school was something I wasn’t allowed to do. If I was at a football game, my dad was with me, and I was expected to watch and learn.
The woman taking cash tells me she never misses the show, then tells me all about her sister’s divorce right there in the line, hot dog in my hand. “Well, thanks for listening.” I’m not about to give out advice while standing in the concession line.
When we get back to our seats and distribute the junk food to everyone, my phone chimes with a text from Bex. Someone posted a clip of me and my foam fingers, and all the comments are about how Beaumont can’t cover a fade route.
I know I shouldn’t, but I comment with the score, which is currently twenty-one to three and say the route’s been covered.
In the third quarter, a kid goes down and stays down, and the whole stadium goes quiet at once. It isn’t Mack or Tristin. Nick switches from coach to doctor quickly and rushes out to the player. Noah’s hot on his heels with Nick’s medical bag, and Teagan’s following.
When the boy sits up, the stadium lets out a collective sigh. Nick and Noah help the youngster to the sideline and onto the cart where the trainer takes him back to the locker room. The whistle blows and it’s back to the game.
Beaumont seals a victory on a last drive from Mack to Tristin on a fade in the corner of the end zone, the hometown kid and the new kid getting the job done. The stands empty, with all the high schoolers rushing onto the field.
When some of the melee has died down, Noah finds us in the stands. Still wearing his headset, he leans over the rail to hug his mother and points up at me. “You see that route?”
“Yep, looked familiar.” Because I ran it. He ran it. Nick remembered.
After making sure every woman in my life has made it to their cars safely, I walk toward mine and even though I know the water tower is closed, I head there. This is tradition and it breaks my heart that someone had to do what they did.
I open the gate and pull my truck through and stop. I don’t have any beer or any glass to throw from the top, but I climb up anyway and look out over the town. The lights from the football field are still on, and I see a line of cars leaving the school.
When the gravel crunches, I have no choice but to wait and see who has followed me here.
“Westbury, you up there?”
Ashford.
I sigh heavily. “Yeah, just reminiscing.”
He climbs up and sets a bag down between us. “I had a feeling you’d be here.” He opens the bag and hands me a cold one.
“Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the past. Watching Mack, it’s like watching Noah and then remembering the way we used to play.”
“I’d give my left nut to have a running back like Mason. I can barely get the kids into the weight room these days.”
“That was such a different time.”
Nick nods. “Mack’s been talking a lot about college ball. He wants to know if you think he’s got a real shot.” He doesn’t look at me. “I told him to ask you himself.”
“Mack knows he can talk to me about anything. Does he still want to be a photographer?”
Nick nods. “I know I’m not supposed to change his mind about a career, but I don’t see how he makes any money doing that. I need to do my own research.”
