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Twenty-Four
I’ve never met a guy who needed two weeks just to plan a date.
To top it off, Theo won’t even tell me where we’re going, insisting that everything be a surprise. He, at least, tells me to wear something casual with comfortable shoes, and to change into something fancier for the evening portion of the date. On Saturday afternoon, I decide on jeans and a black T-shirt with white running shoes that haven’t lost their color because that’s how rarely I wear them.
I’m still not sure that an honest-to-God date is a good idea, but I’m also curious about what Theo’s idea of romance is. My brain keeps turning over what he said weeks ago, until there’s a ringing in my ears like alarm bells.
Isn’t the whole point of a rebound to prove to yourself you’re still capable of feeling something for someone else?
I have feelings for Theo. Not just sexual feelings, but real, full-blown romantic feelings. There’s no denying that anymore. I might finally be getting over Ben, but that left me with a whole set of new problems. Which is why it’s better that we end whatever we are sooner rather than later, so that we don’t hurt each other worse down the line. That’s what I have to tell myself to get through today.
When Theo arrives outside my front door, he’s wearing jogging pants and a hoodie, his hair mussed from the cold wind outside. The weather is almost enough to make me back out, but then I look over his outfit again. Now that he’s dressed like Rocky during a training montage, I’m not sure jeans were the right call.
“You ready?” He steps inside when I make no move to step outside.
“Not in the slightest,” I say, looking him up and down. “Does this involve any amount of running? Because you should know right now: I don’t run.”
“It might involve a little bit of running.” He’s unconcerned as he wraps a big arm around my shoulders and leads me back to the door. “Come on, you’ll be fine. You might even like it.”
I highly doubt that.
The car ride lasts about ten minutes before we arrive at our destination. The Northside Football Stadium is completely deserted when we turn up. His eyes are sparkling mischief as he puts the car in park. I let out a loud groan, but he just laughs in my face.
“For the first part of our date, I’ll be introducing you to my favorite pastime and everything it entails,” he says as we walk toward the iron gate. “Starting with the tailgate.”
He stops beside a closed food truck, taking a key from his pocket to open the back door. The truck is painted cerulean, with lighter shades of blue dotted in an asymmetrical pattern to create the logo directly under the window: Marco’s Taco Truck. I look back up at Theo, surprised. He shoots me a wicked grin as he opens the door, and I follow after him. Inside, the delicious smell of carnitas wafts under my nostrils. My stomach grumbles in approval as he hands me a red basket with two tacos inside. “We can’t play without a pregame snack first.”
“Mm-hmm,” I mumble in agreement, nodding as I take my first bite. “That’s a good rule of thumb.”
“And no pregame is complete without alcohol.” He reaches down to the mini fridge and pulls out two Angry Orchard ciders. “You like these, right?”
My first thought shouldn’t be Ben, but the label calls him to the forefront of my mind. He knows I hate beer, so this has always been our thing when he visits my apartment. A near decade–long tradition. But my second thought is of Theo’s thoughtfulness. I’ve never told him Angry Orchard is my favorite brand. He’s just seen them in my kitchen enough times to know. My chest twinges as I realize how much he’s really gotten to know me.
I clear my throat as I twist the cap, forcing a smile over my racing pulse. “Cheers.”
We clink bottles and sip.
“Actually, I lied. I went to one game freshman year,” I say, suddenly remembering. He perks up but rolls his eyes when I emphasize the one game fact.
“And what was the verdict?”
“My friend and I got so bored, we left at halftime to get drunk in the parking lot.” What I don’t tell him is that the friend was Alice, back when we were still close. He lets out an exasperated groan and rubs both hands over his face. “I always imagined the best part of any football game would be tailgate and halftime.”
“Oof, I think my soul just died a little.” He puts a hand over his heart as if in physical pain. “That’s it. Rebound over, you were right. We were doomed from the start.”
“Shut up!” I yell, hitting his arm. He catches my fist with one hand and brings it up to his mouth to kiss my knuckles. The gesture is so sweet, it makes my heart twinge even more. “Okay, fine! I take it back.”
“Glad to see you come around.” He actually winks. How can he make a cheesy move look so sexy? “Okay, come on. Finish your tacos so I can show you what we’re doing next.”
When we finish eating, he takes my hand and leads me out to the field.
“Please don’t tell me we’re actually going to play a game.” I raise myself to my tiptoes to get a better look at the field. Luckily it seems empty, just a vast space of green turf that goes on forever. An entire stadium reserved for the two of us. “I really don’t feel like embarrassing myself in front of other people today.”
“Do I count as other people?” Theo asks, raising a perfectly arched brow.
“Nope,” I say with a grin up at him. When he starts to pout, I add, “No, this is good! That’s how you know you’ve made it to the inner circle. You don’t want to be other people.”
“If you say so.” He returns my grin as we reach the gate, then walks me over to a rickety wooden bench outside the white painted lines marking the field. “Don’t worry, Marcela, it’s just us today. I’m going to teach you how to play football.”
