to break into the game, and for having a boy in my bed.
The fact that I loved him was a measurable evidence-based fact. Surprisingly, another evidence-based fact was that he loved me too.
Loving was a form of fighting back.
And I was nothing if not a warrior.
“Hi,” I said.
He grinned. “Nice to meet you, love.”
40
DAGNEY
THREE MONTHS LATER
The rules of the game were simple.
There was a ball, and two teams in tight pants who wore thick pads over their shoulders. And also nachos.
So if I tried, really tried, I could separate the idea of football from what I used to believe it was to whatever this thing was that Ryo loved so much. Truth was, I never went to a game at my old school, and would not even if you paid me. So how was I to know if it was actually as bad as I imagined? Since I’d been back, I’d been surprised by the number of people who didn’t hate me.
And surprised by how little I cared about those who still did.
Still, as I sat on the cold metal bench on the front row, I couldn’t help but notice the way the boys got to play while the girls got to wear skimpy outfits and cheer for them.
I growled under my breath.
I held my phone in one hand and waited for the band to start playing Ryo’s school song. It was the last game of the season, and the first one Ryo had been cleared to play.
Luckily it was the night before our internship started, so we’d all flown in early so we could watch him play.
They offered each of the surviving players the internship prize, and all of us, except McKenna, had accepted it. They also gave each one of us the full prize money. A drop in the bucket compared to the money they gave to the families of the players who died.
And it wasn’t enough. Not to replace the eight missing lives.
After Mr. Carrington was fired and the lawsuit settled, Ms. Takagi had closed Stonebright and opened a new studio. It wasn’t as big, but I was excited to work with her there.
And to be able to see Ryo again. Our daily phone calls didn’t have nearly enough kissing in them.
My phone buzzed with a text.
It was from Ryo.
You coming?
I spun my ring around my little finger and then texted him back.
Already here.
After a few minutes, I switched to McKenna’s number and texted her.
It’s not too late. You can still come to the game.
It took a second, those three dots appearing, and then disappearing. Then her reply.
Can’t. PSATs.
Is that what they are calling Netflix these days?
I snorted when her reply beeped almost immediately.
Shut up. It’s part of my healing process. My therapist says self care is super important.
I typed,
Well, for my self care, I’m going to go change into a hoodie.
DON’T YOU DARE! I picked those clothes special. You looked gorgeous in your selfie.
I snorted.
I’m changing! Ooh what do you think about snuggies?
I WILL KILL YOU.
Three dots appeared. Then disappeared.
Sorry.
She didn’t reply for a good minute.
You’re still wearing the clothes I picked out?
I was about to type Come to the game and see, but I’d already pushed her too much today.
Her clothes were here. That was enough.
For today.
I made a face and sent her another selfie.
In the background, dark clouds rumbled. Maybe there’d be a rain delay, and the game would be canceled, and we could all go out to dinner or go see a movie.
No such luck.
Zoe and Griffin arrived at the stadium right before kickoff. The clouds were thick, but no rain fell as they sat next to me in the front row in the handicap accessible area. Zoe rolled right next to me. “Dags!”
She wore her usual leather boots, jeans, and a tee shirt that said SINGLE PLAYER AND SINGLE PAYER in bright pink print. Her hair was dyed a fresh purple since last time I saw her, cut short at the sides, her natural hair tight compared to the polished curls she wore in the game. Her smudged blue-framed glasses slid down her nose. Griffin wore all orange and green, Ryo’s school colors. Even his face was painted, though he didn’t go here.
I was officially overdressed in my cardigan and flowered skirt. “I hate you both.”
“You look nice,” Zoe said.
Griffin dropped their bags. “Did you hear? It’s official. I’m starting a band. I just got to get a load of trumpeters interested.” He handed me one of his goodie bags full of snacks. A pom-pom fell out.
I grinned. “I like your school spirit.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I am nine-tenths ghost. Might as well play the part.”
“Why are your jokes so bad?”
“Years of practice.” Griffin tapped Zoe’s knee and rustled inside his bag. “Bean dip?” He pulled out a glass Pyrex dish and a bag of tortilla chips. “You’ll never guess what the secret is to making a perfect bean dip, so I’ll tell you.”
“It’s not really a secret if you tell everyone,” I said.
“Right, but you’re not everyone, now, are you?”
The band blasted my eardrums and the crowd erupted in cheers. The players streamed out, and everything grew even louder. Last game of the season. Everybody was here, their focus on Ryo.
And I wanted to cover my head and disappear.
Zoe smiled encouragingly at me. “You are making a bigger deal than it is. I promise.”
“What’s going on now?” Griffin said, looking around.
“Don’t worry about it, Grig,” Zoe said. “This is a girl thing.”
I bit my lip and sucked in. Zoe’s words helped a little, and I knew better. My worth was not based in my appearance, and Ryo didn’t want a trophy, he wanted me.
But he had to notice the way the cheerleaders looked at him, or the way the girls along the fence were all adoring fans in such tiny packages.
But even with a thousand people cheering his name, Ryo looked for me.
When our eyes met, his shoulders dropped and he grinned like he was relieved. He wouldn’t ever admit it, but he needed me here to support him.
Dark clouds rumbled above us.
Ryo crossed the field to greet us, his arms wide like he was hugging the whole world. “Sun’s greeting, fair travelers!”
He and Griffin bumped shoulders first, but then he held me close. I leaned against the cement barrier as he kissed me hard, right there where everyone could see. In that second, everybody else disappeared, until it was just him and me and a kiss that I wished went on longer.
Brownie Blizzard sundae.
Ryo rested his forehead against mine. “I’m so glad you made it.”
My whole insides warmed. He didn’t look at me any differently than the way he looked at me in the game. “Of course. I love you, you know?” I expected my stomach to twist, but I didn’t feel nervous. It seemed like the most natural, honest thing I could say.
“Dagney,” he said, his expression the kind of happy that I knew couldn’t be faked.
“And that means I get all your stuff.” I pushed his shoulder. “Go get me a victory.”
His eyes twinkled. “Yes, my queen.” He tapped Zoe’s nose and then he ran back on the field, those tight pants of his increasing my appreciation for this game tenfold.
A whistle blew as he lined up with the rest of his team. He put his helmet at the top of his head, but for a quick instant before he lowered it, his focus shifted up to the top of the stands.
Where his mother cheered with both arms raised.