I haven’t filled June in on Hayden yet. That’s the other reason I want her and I to have this time together.
“I’m more impartial than biased now, by the way,” I say, leaning into her. She pulls her water bottle from her mouth and it makes a pop. Her mouth hangs on to the O shape.
“You broke up?” I can’t tell if she’s really shocked or just playing the part.
“Come on, you know you were shocked to see us together in the first place. And yeah, it just wasn’t right, and with me leaving and all . . . ” And with me being in love with his brother. That part stays in my head.
“Yeah, I guess I can see that. Are things good between you, though? I mean, when did this happen? At your party?” She studies me for a second, reading the truth in my wincing face.
“Oh, shit. Before?”
I nod and sigh.
“Oh, that must have been hard or weird or . . . hard and weird?” She turns her attention back to the court where both teams are lining up for the tip-off.
“Hard and weird pretty much sums it up.” I chuckle. The whistle blows and Tory sails over the St. Agnes player, pushing the ball through the air to his brother who rushes it down the court for a fast two points. June and I both stand and shout.
“Okay, I can get into this basketball game thing,” she says. Tory steals the ball the moment she finishes her statement, this time taking it all the way himself but stopping at the three-point line and putting up a shot that floats through the air in perfect silence. When he sinks it, we stand again, a roar erupting.
“Yes! Go Tory! Go Hayden! Go Eagles!” June is red-faced, screaming, and I tug her arm to drag her back down to sit with me.
“Slow down there, mama Eagle,” I tease.
“It’s just . . . this is so exciting. Things happen so fast, and there’s not all these timeouts and measurements and—”
We stand again for another steal, this one by someone other than one of the twins. Another layup, and our team is up seven to zero with less than a minute burned.
We’re giggling from the excitement, and it injects much needed joy into my body. For a little while, I’m able to forget that I’m leaving something new and special, and that I hurt someone kind and soft, and that I’m going to miss my best friend. For the next hour, I simply exist in this bubble, in a world where the boy I love and the boy I admire absolutely put on a show together on the court, and I’m lucky enough to watch it unfold. Hayden and Tory bond before my eyes. They celebrate each other, and they work as this singular unit that positively cannot function without the other half.
And then it hits me. Maybe they can’t.
“In another life,” I mutter, not realizing my thoughts spill out loud.
“Hmm?” June leans in.
I shake her off, claiming to be talking about the other team, but the way she continues to look at the side of my face makes me believe she knows better. She also knows not to push.
The game ends with us on top by twenty-seven points. It was basically a blow-out, led by the D’Angelo boys. A reporter from the local paper asks them to stick around for a short interview and a picture, so June and I move down to the bottom row to listen in. The questions are pretty typical, but the D’Angelo answers are not. They goof with each other, poking fun in a way that also praises, and whenever the reporter tries to bring the spotlight to Tory, he instantly shifts it, giving credit to Hayden. Before they get up, one of their teammates rushes by with a cup of ice water and splashes it across the backs of their necks, and they take off after him into the locker room.
“I guess we can just hang around outside,” June says.
I follow her out the doors and glance to my car. I can’t wait around and see them both. Whatever balance they have happening between them, it’s necessary. It’s how they’ll get through the next few weeks and months. It’s how they’re going to navigate their lives. They don’t need me to stick around to tell them both nice game.
“Actually,” I begin. June’s head falls to the side, a frown tackling her lips. “I know,