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Thinking about my father, about the tense conversation we’d had the other day unnerved me. And I needed all the strength I could get if I was going to walk into Darling Hill High and watch the Hawks.
“Of course.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “We can talk about it another time.”
Another time.
Never. I never wanted to talk about it.
But Celeste was right, I had to face him one day.
Nix wasn’t my dirty little secret, he wasn’t. It wasn’t about that. But he deserved more. He deserved to be loved out in the open. To be adored and cherished and made to feel worthy. But I was so scared of what going public would mean for us. Terrified that the pressure, the judgment that would no doubt come, would crack my already fragile shell. And if it did… would Nix want to stick around to piece me back together?
You know he would. He promised.
“Harleigh?”
I blinked at Celeste, panic swelling in the pit of my stomach.
“It’s time,” she said. “Let’s go watch your boy kick some ass.” She beamed, and I wished more than anything, that I could feel even a speck of her enthusiasm.
“Oh my God, oh my— yes!” Chloe held out her hand and Celeste high fived it, the two of them completely in their element.
Even from our shadowy little corner under the bleachers, it hadn’t dampened their mood. But I was too tense to celebrate. Every time Nix got the ball, those few precious seconds where he decided what to do—pass or run—I held my breath, gripping the chair beneath me.
He was a thing to behold. An unforgiving storm that the opposing defense couldn’t break. If they knocked him down, he got straight back up. Strong, sturdy, and one-hundred-and-ten percent focused. I didn’t think too hard about the fact he’d looked for me before kick-off. Searching the dark recess under the raucous crowd. The second our eyes had collided, it was like time had stopped.
The same way my heart had.
Only, time had restarted but I wasn’t entirely sure my heart would beat again until the final whistle blew.
“They’ve got this.” Chloe clutched my arm, grinning. “Your boy did good.”
“So good,” Celeste added as we sat poised to watch their final play.
Blood pounded in my ears, the leading rhythm to the rising cacophony of the crowd.
“I feel sick,” I said to no one in particular.
“They’ve got the win,” Chloe said. “You don’t need to worry.”
But I couldn’t help it. Because every time I saw a group of blue and yellow players racing toward Nix, the knot in my stomach twisted violently.
The Hawks moved into their positions along the scrimmage line, but I only had eyes for Nix. He looked so fine in his tight white pants and the magenta and black jersey. He began yelling plays, trying to stupefy the opposition.
Somewhere above us was a scout from Albany U, watching. Assessing. Weighing Nix’s future in the palm of his hands.
Nix had played with everything he had. Commanded his team and held the crowd on a breath’s edge. He had it. Whatever it was, Nix had it in spades, and sitting there, I knew I was watching a star being born.
“Go. GO!” Chloe yelled, yanking me from my reverie. I hadn’t even realized the whistle had blown, too lost in what-ifs and maybes.
“Yes, yes… go… run. RUN!” Celeste was practically bouncing in her seat, the crowd above us cheering on their star quarterback.
“Touchdoooooown,” the announcer bellowed through the PA system and the place exploded, making me flinch.
The team jogged straight for Nix, jumping on him, and jostling him as they celebrated. But he fought them all off, his eyes frantically searching for me.
Without thinking, I stood and began walking to the edge of the bleachers. My heart was a wild beating thing in my chest. Nix was already halfway to me when he spotted me. He paused at the edge of the field and slowly pulled his helmet off, shaking the sweat from his hair. The corners of my mouth tipped up as I watched him watch me. He didn’t move another inch, waiting. Giving me the choice.
Stay in the shadows or walk into the light.
