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It made Rory want to vomit.

She felt an elbow dig into her side. “Hey, you okay?” asked her friend.

She turned and grinned. “Oh yeah, so happy. He won!”

“Okayyy,” Melanie responded. “Just seemed like you were upset there for a minute.”

She scoffed. “Upset? No way! He deserves it.”

Melanie furrowed her brow. “Hmm, alright.”

She ignored Melanie’s curious gaze as they descended from the stands. The Scoopers said their goodbyes to Dan and Jan and waited for Tyler at the side of the field. He kept having to fix his crown from how often he dipped to his new queen’s level as they carried on a conversation—oblivious to their rabid fans. At one point, he threw his head back and laughed, the piece of hard plastic falling off his head. A tall middle-aged man with slicked-back gray hair and navy-blue slacks caught it in mid-air. But it was the smile plastered on the man’s face that Rory would recognize anywhere.

Zoe’s dad, Garner Clark, the first selectman of Haverport, reached his hand out for Tyler to shake. Rory and the Scoopers stood at least thirty yards away, the townies’ loud chants drowning out any chance she had at eavesdropping on whatever Mr. Clark was telling Tyler, who stood there listening with a toothy grin, nodding profusely. Zoe stood close enough to Tyler that her arm was grazing his, the small amount of contact causing Rory’s head to spin.

“Is Tyler about to get…too popular for us?” Blake joked.

“I’d beat him up before I let that happen,” Rory deadpanned.

“I honestly would love to watch you try,” Calvin said.

Just then, Tyler said his goodbyes to Zoe and Mr. Clark, Zoe giving him one last smile over her shoulder as she followed her father off the field. Tyler’s gaze lingered on her before he turned to the Scoopers and grinned, holding out his arms.

Rory bolted in his direction. She jumped, flinging her arms around his shoulders, Blake and Melanie at her heels as they huddled into a group hug. Calvin stepped to the side and patted Tyler’s back.

“Alright, guys, back it up, back it up,” Blake said, breaking away from the group. “He’s a king now, he can’t be seen with us peasants.”

Tyler chuckled, placing Rory down gently before reaching to touch the crown on his head. “It’s all a little silly,” he said, glancing down at her. “Don’t you think?”

Yes, she thought to herself. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it, not with that innocent boy-like look he was giving her. So she just shook her head. “No, you deserve it.”

“That catch, man!” Blake said. “That was crazy. She was just falling out of the sky and BAM, you were there.”

Worry lined Tyler’s eyes. “She could have been really hurt.”

Desperate to change the subject, Rory snatched Tyler’s crown off his head and placed it on her own. “Shall we take the king out for pizza?”

Tyler groaned. “Yes, please, I’m starving.” Rory saw him shift slightly, trying to steal his crown back, but she was too quick for him as she ducked and weaved.

“Meet us at Penny’s when you’re done?” Calvin asked.

Tyler nodded, taking a step back like he was going to leave. But quick as lightning, he jumped, throwing an arm around her and snatching the crown off her head.

“Oh my god, Ty, you reek. Get off me!”

He chuckled, tugging on her green bandana before letting her go. “That’s what you get for being a menace, Ry.”

She shook her head, reluctant to follow the group back to Calvin’s truck as she watched Tyler jog up toward the school, holding his helmet in one hand and his sparkly crown in the other.

* * *

Rory was taking the first bite of her slice when she saw him approaching Penny’s Pizzeria, cleaned up and wearing his letterman jacket. When he stepped into the shop, everyone cheered. Tyler grinned, his eyes wide, clearly shocked by the attention people in town were giving him. He waved and shook hands with townies like he was a movie star before approaching their table, tucking in right next to her.

She frowned. “Where’s your crown?”

“Locked in the treasury so little menaces can’t steal it,” he joked, reaching to steal the slice out of her grasp.

She swatted his hand away. “Mine. Get your own.”