Page 38 of Love, Literature, and the Linebacker

At the door, Ms. Thorn gives me a knowing wink as we say goodbye and step into the cold night.

“I parked in Lot A,” Lucy says.

The small detail affects me more than it should. “You remembered.”

“I did,” she says softly. Then, after a beat, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You’re not like most of the guys on your team.”

“I’m not.”

“But you still hang out with them?” She hesitates. “Party with them?”

“I don’t drink,” I say. “I show up, stay for a bit, then leave. Being on a team means showing support, even when it’s not really your scene.”

She nods thoughtfully. “You network.”

I laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I’ve never been good at that,” she says. “I’m always afraid I’ll say the wrong thing.”

“So what if you do?” I ask as we stop beside her car.

She shrugs. “I embarrass myself.”

“Is that the worst thing in the world?”

She looks down at the pavement. “When I was a kid, my cheeks used to turn bright red. They still do, sometimes. In school, everyone called me Tomato Face.” She lets out a quiet breath. “It hurt.”

Suddenly, the nickname makes sense. It’s not the words themselves, but the way she hears them. Another label chosen by people who never bothered to ask her name.

Without thinking, I drop the duffel bag and slide my fingers into her hair, grounding us both. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she whispers, leaning into my touch.

The moment stretches, quiet and right.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” I ask.

She nods. “Yes.”

“They’re showing Casablanca in the park,” I say. “Will you go with me?”

She steps closer. “I’d like that.”

My heart pounds. “Can I kiss you?”

Her answer is a soft, steady, “Yes.”

I move slowly, giving her time to change her mind. She keeps her eyes on mine, nervous but steady, and rests her hands against my shoulders.

When our lips meet, the kiss is tentative. Her breath catches against my mouth, and I stay still enough for her to decide what comes next.

For a second, she freezes. Then her fingers curl into my jacket, drawing me closer.

When I pull back, just enough to look at her, her cheeks are flushed, her lips parted in quiet surprise.