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I finish my look with a berry-red lip and do a final mirror check before meeting Jessie and Mac in the living room, where they’re sitting on the couch.
“Damn, girl,” Mac says, and Jessie whips her head around to me.
“Jade, holy shit. You look so hot,” she says.
“I know, right?” I pretend to flip my hair but don’t actually move it, because it looks perfect the way I just had it—half-up, with two thin pieces of hair to frame my face and the rest of it lightly curled—and I don’t want to mess with it.
“Aren’t you meeting Ian’s dad today?” Jessie asks.
“Yes, and . . .?”
Jessie gestures to my outfit. “Dressed like that?”
“Okay, Mom,” I say and roll my eyes as we head out the door. “This is not a ‘meet the parents’ situation. I’m not trying to impress anyone’s dad today, unless you’ve got someone in mind,” I say with a wink.
“It’s still a lot of cleavage for hanging out with a group of middle-aged men,” Jessie says, ignoring me, but I see Mac fighting for his life, trying not to laugh.
“They’ll look anyway, cleavage or not,” I say. “I dress for me.”
“Me too,” says Mac, who’s wearing an old soccer jersey layered under his Patagonia puff jacket, paired with jeans and some luxury tennis shoes. As usual, he looks put together even in the most basic of outfits. Jessie is wearing our school colors: a forest-green Middle Penn College crop-length hoodie, straight-cut black jeans, and her trusty white high-top Converse.
We walk to the football stadium parking lot. It’s the only thing on campus that’s close to our apartments, so there’s no need to drive. I finally texted my dad and took my car into the shop, but it isn’t fixed yet, and I’m still relying on people for rides, so I’m glad I don’t have to beg yet another ride off Mac and Jessie.
I smell the tailgate before I see it—burgers, hot dogs, and cheap beer mingled with the cool air of the first Saturday afternoon in November. As we get closer, the sounds of sizzling grills, music from various tailgate areas, and cheers from people winning beer pong fill the air.
I usually skip homecoming tailgating and the game because there’s some theater thing going on, but the calendar was oddly free today. I didn’t exactly know what to expect, but there’s a real energy about the place. It’s a similar buzz to a regular season game, but the faces in the crowd are more varied, some people just a few years older than me, but lots of people in their forties, fifties, and sixties, all wearing Middle Penn College colors and gear.
Mac and Jessie follow me as I wind through the crowd. Ian gave me an approximate location and sent me a photo of the setup, so I know what to look for, but Mac finds it before I do, waving, presumably, to Ian.
We approach the tent and realize Ian wasn’t exaggerating: they really do go all out. There are four men, any of whom could be Ian’s dad. They’re all in their early fifties or so, wearing various MPC gear but all looking like they could be on a golf course. I half-expected the kind of men who paint their bodies for NFL tailgates, but these guys have a way classier look to them.
Ian stands close to one guy in particular, both of them with big smiles plastered on their faces. It has to be Ian’s dad, because their smiles are identical. They look like friends rather than a father-son combo, the way they’re talking and laughing. The tug of jealousy happens so suddenly in my chest, I cough to try to clear it.
Ian notices us in his peripheral and does a quick double-take.
“Hey!” He waves and gestures for us to join him.
I crack each of my knuckles as we approach. Mac reaches Ian first, and they shake hands and do a bro hug—some combination of a high-five and a hug—like they’ve been friends for years. Ian and Jessie even greet each other with a hug.
When Ian turns his attention to me, he freezes for a second, just taking me in. “Are you kidding me?” he says as he pulls me into a hug. “You look so fucking hot.”
I smile into his neck, breathing in his woodshop scent. I don’t know how he still smells like fresh-cut wood. Does he go into the scene shop every day? Does he have a specific cologne? Does he just rub wood shavings on himself?
He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing me and then takes my hand and leads me to his dad. It’s so casual I can almost pretend like it’s normal for him to do such a boyfriend-y gesture, but it’s not. We hooked up once, and yeah, I like kissing him, but not in front of people? Like, that’s not what this is.
Now isn’t the time to say something to him, but I plan to later.
“Dad, this is Jade. Jade, my dad,” Ian says with all the joy of a kid doing show-and-tell at school.
As casually as I can, while I shake Ian’s dad’s hand, I slip my other hand from Ian’s and push my sunglasses up onto the top of my head. I tuck both hands in my jacket pockets. I will not be holding anyone’s hand today.
“Bill,” Ian’s dad says.
“So nice to meet you,” I say with my friendliest smile, because it really is nice to meet the man Ian looks up to so much.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Bill says.
“All of it is true,” I say with a smirk. “Especially the bad stuff.”
