Page 14 of Love, Literature, and the Linebacker

I trace the edge of my book with my fingertip, thinking. “It’s comfortable.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It is,” I agree. “Sometimes it’s too comfortable.”

His expression warms. “Where’s the farthest you’ve ever traveled?”

“The county line,” I say dryly.

He laughs, but there’s no mockery in it. Just warmth.

I’ve never dreamed beyond the end of the street. I wouldn’t even know where to go if someone offered me a plane ticket.

Dylan’s mouth curves, drawing my attention there before I can stop it. “I’ve always had plans,” he says, almost to himself. “Lots of them.”

“Was football one of them?”

He presses his lips together, thinking. “Yeah. One of many.”

“What excites you about football?”

He thinks for a moment. “The second before the snap. Everyone’s moving, shouting, trying to disguise what they’re about to do, and I have to make sense of it before the ball moves.”

I smile. “Okay. An easier question. Favorite Shakespeare tragedy?”

“Hamlet,” he answers without hesitation.

“And comedy?”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

Some of my remaining nervousness slips away. I’ve never talked to someone this long without searching for an excuse to escape.

With Dylan, it’s just… easy.

“What about you, Library Girl?” he asks, leaning forward slightly. “Favorite tragedy?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” I say. “Not every romance has to end happily.”

“Most of them don’t,” he says.

The weight behind his words makes me pause.

“My parents divorced when I was thirteen,” he adds, like he knows exactly what I’m wondering.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly.

“It’s okay. They just fell out of love.”

“My parents met when they were ten and have been convinced they were meant for each other ever since.”

“Sounds like they were one of the lucky ones.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you ever come to any of the football games?”

I swallow hard. “I went to a game my first year with my dad. We left early when we both realized neither of us had any idea what was going on. Since then, I’ve stayed far away from Ashby Stadium.”