Page 53 of Game Day

"What the hell are you wearing?"

Miles holds out his arms, the sleeves of the hoodie riding up nearly to his elbows. "They didn't have my size."

Jay’s clothes almost fit. Behind them, Atlas looks as if he's been stuffed into baby clothes.

"So, no luck finding Brooke," Nova says as she ducks under my arm, tucking in against my chest.

“She wouldn’t tell us where she put our clothes. We searched everywhere, including the car.”

Jay holds out his phone. "We’ve got another issue."

Chloe descends, Brooke following her and carrying a bag.

"You guys are in so much trouble,” Chloe warns.

"At least we have clothes!" Miles says cheerfully.

Chloe holds out her phone in the center of our circle, showing a darkly lit video of us running through the dark.

“You took that?” Brooke laughs, impressed.

Chloe grins. “It’s good to have leverage.”

I can see the outline of our bodies, plus two asses.

"Wait, who has a tattoo on their ass?" Nova asks, fascinated.

"Someone is carrying the trophy,” Brooke points out.

"We couldn't leave it behind," Jay says reasonably.

“Where is the trophy?" Chloe asks.

We look at one another.

* * *

The trophy somehow landed in the dining hall cold storage between two vats of soup. After the campers helped us recover it, we dragged ourselves to a grueling practice that felt as if Coach knew exactly how little sleep we all got last night.

Now Kat, Daniel, and my parents, plus Nova and I, have a reservation at one of the fancier restaurants in town. Nova called to say she’s running late with Brooke and Mari and insisted we order for her.

“Grad school’s been great,” Kat says as she finishes her glass of wine.

“Daniel, you’re on the faculty?” my mom prompts as she pushes a piece of bread around her plate.

“That’s right.”

“How old are you?” my dad asks Daniel.

“Old enough I had to be his son’s nanny in order to get him to date me,” Kat supplies sweetly.

Mom reaches for her water, coughing.

Daniel, to his credit, looks as if he’s accustomed to my sister’s brand of gives-no-fucks.

They’re perfect for each other.

We’ve just ordered for all of us, Nova included, when I spot the missed call from my realtor. The phone must have been on silent since practice. I make my excuses and step outside long enough to play the message.

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