Page 42 of Game Day

"Wait, your brother's on the team?" Kat asks.

Brooke nods.

“And you’re into this guy Miles?”

"No."

I grab my drink and take a gulp. “Didn’t look like that in the reception room.”

This time Brooke does flip me off.

The rest of the time flies by. The dancing is incredibly challenging, but it feels good at the same time. Things are simple when it's just you and a metal bar.

Simpler still with one margarita down and a second replacing the empty glass immediately.

"Who's ready for the dance-off?" Anna asks when we've stopped for a break and to chug a bunch of water."It's your own original choreography, and you get to pick the song. You have five minutes to prepare."

When it's time to go, Kat starts. She chooses Bloodhound Gang, and we scream our approval. She's strong and athletic, and even though she and Clay look different, it seems the athletic gene runs in the family.

Then it's Brooke, and she does even better.

Then it's my turn, and I do my routine to Backstreet Boys.

I start with some simple struts, gearing up for a big finish where I swing around the pole.

By the end, the screaming is out of control.

"Nova is the winner!" Anna declares, and I lift my hands and my boa in the air.

The bartender tops up our drinks, and Brooke brings out a package. "This is for you."

Winning has its perks. I dig through the tissue paper, but there's not much there.Finally, my fingers close around what feels like lace. I pull my hand out to hold up the world's tiniest G-string.

"It was a special order,” Brooke says.

"Of what, dental floss?"

Mari gasps, Chloe snorts along with Kat, and Brooke grins with pride. I turn it over and see the scrap of lace has something embroidered on it.

Clay's jersey number.

"There'sa bra too."

I go fish for that one, pulling up barely more floss than before. One boob says "Mrs." and the other says "Wade."

"It's your ‘yes, ma’am’ outfit. Every girl has to have one. The one that makes a guy say yes to anything she wants."

“This contest was clearly rigged,” I decide.

“Never,” Brooke says, mock offended.

It feels good to be here with my friends, feeling accepted and loved and excited for this wedding.

"Is it weird talking about your brother like this?" I ask Kat after I set the gift on top of a pile of our belongings on the table.

"Totally. But I’m glad it’s you." She squeezes my hand.

Her words mean the world to me, but they also remind me Kat grew up with Clay's parents too.

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