I refuse to be an absentee cat mom,she replied.
After two days of texting that only ramped up in frequency—so much so that even phone-obsessed Bailey was giving her a hard time—they decided to meet up. Griffin rented out a movie theater outside of town, and it touched Aria so deeply, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.
They sat in the theater, lights on, the entire time, never getting to the part where they clicked on the movie. Griffin told her all about his history in football, and although football wasn’t usually her thing, Aria sat rapt. Her mind painted pictures of little Griffin, front teeth missing and tanned from hours in the sun, pulling on an oversized jersey. He told her about hisactualfavorite foods—anything with a carb in it—and admitted his secret love for karaoke.
Aria snatched each tidbit of information and stored it in her mind like the precious treasure it was.
She didn’t hesitate before matching his candor. Aria told him all about the awkward middle school years when her schoolmates teased her about her musical aspirations. She told him about her secret love of British cozy murder mysteries, a fact even the scrappiest tabloids had yet to uncover. Aria even toldGriffin about how she’d paid to put Bailey through college—back before she really could afford to—because her parents could afford to even less.
It was as if in the dim light of the movie theater on the outskirts of town, one so infrequently visited that the owner permitted a last-minute full rental, all of the pretense fell away. Even once the manager came through and told them he was locking up for the day, Aria didn’t want to leave.
She wasn’t done hearing about Griffin.
Nevertheless, they reluctantly packed up. The next two days, they continued to message, then video call, frequently in stints between football practice and Aria’s meetings with set designers and wardrobe consultants.
On game day, Aria thrums with excitement. She pulls on the gifted jersey that’s sat at the ready in her closet, relaxed-fit jeans, and tennis shoes with gold sparkles—to represent the Wardens even further. She keeps her makeup and jewelry simple, pulls a Wardens ball cap down low in an attempt to stay under the radar, and heads for the stadium with her sister at her side.
They find the box easily with the help of security Griffin set up to meet them at the entrance. Inside it’s like a small restaurant outfitted with various food stations and buffets, as well as a well-stocked bar. “Didn’t Griffin say something about nachos?” Bailey swivels her head, sporting her own Wardens fan wear, freshly purchased.
“That’s right!”
Before they can make it to the bar, a server greets them. “Miss Wilder, am I right?”
Part of Aria deflates, and she removes the cap, her goldencurls spilling out and onto her shoulders. “Guess this wasn’t as good a disguise as I thought?”
The server smiles. “No, the hat worked well. It’s just that when you checked in, they notified me. Mr. Hayes asked that we take extra special care of you. I can show you to your seats, and then I hear nachos have been promised.”
“Wonderful, thank you.” Aria follows the server out of the enclosed box area and to the rows of seats in the open air.
He brings them to the front row of the section and points them in the direction of their seats. “What else can I bring you?”
Aria and Bailey order drinks. In only moments, a different staff member delivers them, and on the heels of that, the nachos are at their side. A pep band is blasting music at the end of the field, and Aria feels herself getting into the spirit of the game.
She thinks about Griffin. Does he get nervous before games like she does before shows? His husky figure alone might suggest not, but Aria, knowing the rest of him—the tender, down-to-earth parts—might guess otherwise. She hopes they win. She hopes it’s a good game. Either way, she knows Griff will play his heart out.
Aria is bopping her head and munching on nachos—which are just as good as promised—when her phone rings. Kelsey’s name and photo appear on the screen. It’s probably about the commercial filming next week, so Aria picks up.
“Hey, Kels.”
“Aria! You’re at the game!”
Aria looks around. “Areyou?”
“No, but there are photos of you online. Are we going off script? We didn’t coordinate this.”
“Well, we sort of accidentally promised it onThe Late Night Show. We just got carried away with the act.” Aria’s chest hitches. Something about calling it an “act” no longer sits right, but she forges on. “It wouldn’t look right if I didn’t come through. Plus, Bailey and I are just having fun and hanging out. There’s not much to it.”
“Well, that’s fabulous! If the two of you keep this up, we might not even have to schedule things moving forward.” Kelsey’s delight oozes in every word.
“Ha! Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“All right, I’ll let you go. Enjoy the game, and I’ll be in touch with more soon on day-of details for the commercial shoot.”
“Thanks!”
Aria says goodbye and disconnects. She turns to Bailey. “Do you think it’s weird that Griffin and I just sort of did this on our own?”
Bailey is in the middle of inserting an overly stacked chip into her mouth when Aria finishes the question, so in the natural pause, she considers it.
