Back To U - By Kathy Dunnehoff Page 0,51

she stayed any longer the sun would be up, and she’d have to scoot across campus to her own room in broad daylight. Not that anyone cared or would see her, and it was hard to leave Max. She felt his warmth, his heartbeat, just like she’d always imagined. Well, she’d hoped the thump of the guy’s heart with her head on his chest worked that way. She was glad that even with clothes on she could have that.

She studied the underside of the top bunk. Max was right. It was great to have a roommate who was gone on the weekends. She stretched a little just to feel the length of her body intertwined with his, the rub of jeans and twist of the blanket he’d thrown over them. He’d fallen asleep, and maybe she had too. They’d kissed and talked until the whispering made her voice hoarse and the kissing made her lips sore, and still she just wanted to kiss him some more.

Breathing in the warm scent of him, she felt his body hard against the give of her own. He didn’t know it yet, but she was definitely going all the way with him. And maybe, although she didn’t want to think past dawn, maybe even further.

Back to U…

He’d urged her to start small when the sheer volume of people overwhelmed her, and they hadn’t even hit the stadium yet. Where to capture a single image that said something good about everything around her?

The ground level cement corridors were packed and movement was slowed even more by the concessions. There were lines for pizza and lines for popcorn and lines for Hawaiian noodle bowls. Island cuisine didn’t seem like football fodder to her, but it smelled so good she wished she’d passed on the hot dog.

Max paused beside her and checked out the noodle bowl menu. "I think this image says melting pot. It says fiftieth state in the union. You should definitely get it."

She pretended to frame a shot of the guy stuck with the very hot job of stirring the oversized wok then she spun and got a picture of Max. She lowered the camera. "I think this image says smart ass. It says number one loser of the bet."

Max shook his head. "That’s just the kind of gum-under-the-seat shot I expected from you. I don’t think you can capture, what was it? Nice, lovely humanity that bites ass?"

A family walked by, the little boy wearing a Belmar sweatshirt, his hat on backwards. Gwen got down to his level and captured his dash away. His slightly older sister, decked out in a mini cheerleader outfit, turned as if on cue, smiled, and tossed her beribboned ponytail.

Gwen felt Max crouch beside her and scan the cement tunnel as if framing his own photos. "You missed the shot of the girl."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Her costume was disturbing on so many levels."

"So, you’ll leave the cheerleader shots for me?"

"You can bet on it. You always were a leg man." She cringed, embarrassed to have let herself get so comfortable it was like it had been between them. She stood, kept the camera to her face and pretended to work when she felt him rise slowly beside her. He visually made his way up her mercifully jean clad leg. Had she been standing in a skirt the experience would have been far more intimate. Plus, the Max she’d known would have definitely looked up it.

She spotted a group of younger teens, three guys who were probably football playing stars of their middle school if their swagger was any indication. It was like seeing the boys at the start of becoming the boys. She set off after them, hoping to get a photo before she lost them in the stands. She didn’t worry that Max would follow. He would or he wouldn’t. She had his camera.

Max followed her all the way to the end zone. She didn’t know if the end bleachers had names like the Blue End Zone or Visitor Zone versus the Home Zone, or directions like South End Zone, but she'd made her way to the top row of one of them. For the first time she could see the whole scene spread out before her, and it was beautiful, an odd thing to feel about a football game. The sun was out and shone down on all the color and motion of a couple thousand people enjoying a Saturday. The rectangle of

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