Page 55 of Remember Us This Way

“He sure did,” she challenges. “So, what’s it going to be? Shall I put some popcorn in the microwave so you can prove him right, or are we going to go and watch his game?”

Oh, hell no! I fly to my feet, scooping my phone up as I go. “Get your crap, Hazel. We’re going to the game.”

“YES!” she squeals, racing out of the living room and straight up the stairs, her feet thumping against the floor like a herd of elephants. “FOR THE RECORD,” she calls down the stairs. “HE SAID THAT CALLING YOU A CHICKEN WOULD WORK LIKE A CHARM.”

Ah, crap. I should have seen that one coming. If I stay home and watch movies all night, I’m proving him right. But if I take his bait and go to the game because I refuse to be called a chicken, I’m also proving him right.

Well played, Noah Ryan. Well played.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling into the overflowing parking lot of East View High and Hazel is bouncing in her seat, barely able to contain her excitement. After having to circle the lot twice, we finally find a parking space, and before I know it, Hazel’s dragging me toward the stands.

“ZOEY!” I hear my name called from the stands. My head whips up, finding Tarni waving her hands around with Abby and Cora beside her. “Up here.”

Hazel grins before practically pulling me up the stairs, and before I know it, we’re settled in beside Tarni and the girls as Hazel stares out at the field, watching in awe as people flood through the gates. They are all here to see Noah Ryan’s first game of the season.

It’s the kind of turnout one would expect for the championship game, and I can’t help the pride that resides in my chest. The cheerleaders’ pre-show hasn’t even started, and the crowd is already cheering wildly.

The stands are a sea of maroon and black to represent the Mambas, but there’s only one who’s special enough to wear Noah’s name on her back. Spotlights shine down on the field, bright enough to be seen from space, and music pounds through the speakers.

The only time I’ve ever really had an interest in football was . . . before, but this right here, it’s clear to see why people love it so much. You know, apart from the actual game. The atmosphere and overall mood of the night is such a vibe, it’s incredible. I even catch myself cheering as the anticipation of the game drums through my veins.

Before I know it, my mood plummets as the cheerleaders decide to grace us with an ass-shaking number, and while there’s no denying that they’re an incredible team, after the way they dumped their drinks all over me last Friday night and called me trash for almost two weeks straight, I can’t appreciate their moves down on the field.

They’re just wrapping up their routine when both teams bound out of the locker rooms, and the way the crowd throws themselves to their feet is simply incredible. Tarni grabs my hand and forces it into the sky as she screams out for Noah, cheering him on and deafening me in the process.

Hazel stands on her chair to get a better look and I find Noah immediately as a rush of nostalgia brutally slams right into my chest. I feel like I’ve taken a massive step back in time to being that little girl hovering at the sidelines, cheering so loud for Noah that her throat was raw by the end of the game.

He walks across the field with his helmet tucked under his arm, and as his gaze lifts to the stands, I almost drop to the dirty ground, knowing without even trying that his eyes will come directly to mine. And that’s exactly what happens, as if he’d followed that pull from the invisible string between us.

Noah’s gaze holds mine, and just like every other time he’s looked at me, I’m captivated. I can see the smugness in his eyes, knowing that I played right into the palm of his hand. He used Hazel to manipulate me into being here tonight, and I don’t doubt that Hazel knew exactly what she was doing. Their plan worked like a charm.

23

Zoey

Noah holds my stare for a moment, and as a small smile begins kicking up the corner of his lips, he smothers it before dropping his gaze to Hazel at my side. Taking in the jersey he got her, he grins wide—that boyish one I used to love so much—and as Hazel beams beside me, Noah makes a face.

I roll my eyes, trying and failing to pretend that I don’t love their interactions, when Tarni’s hand falls away from mine. She leans into me, talking right into my ear to be heard over the roar of the crowd. “What the hell was that?” she demands, nodding toward Noah out on the field as the team huddles around Coach Martin.

“What was what?” I question, unease slowly pulsing through my veins.

“Noah,” she insists, a spark of jealousy and anger flashing in her blue eyes. “Why was he looking at you like that?”

“He wasn’t looking at me like anything,” I say, my back stiffening. “He was looking at Hazel. They were hanging out the other day and he invited her to his game. He gave her a jersey and everything.”

Tarni’s brows furrow, and she looks around me as if only just noticing my little sister beside me. “Oh,” she says with a bite in her tone before staring back toward the field, her eyes glued to Noah’s ass. “I didn’t realize he was so chummy with your family again.”

What in the fresh hell is her problem?

“He’s not,” I say, unsure why I feel the need to defend this—to her of all people. She’s the one person who should understand without an explanation. “His mom forced him over for dinner the other night, and he hid out in Hazel’s room to avoid having to talk to anyone.”

Her brows furrow, and her head whips right back toward me, gaping at me as though I’m a stranger. “What the hell, Zoey?” she snaps. “He was at your place, and you didn’t say anything? You could have invited me over. You know how much I like him.”

“It was a family dinner,” I argue. “Besides, Mom only told me they were coming like two seconds before they walked through the door.”

Tarni rolls her eyes and looks back toward the field, inching a step away before leaning toward Abby on her other side and whispering something in her ear that makes my blood run cold. Cora leans in to find out whatever’s being said, and as the three of them talk shit between themselves, I try not to think the worst, but that doesn’t stop me from scanning the already packed stands to see if there’s anywhere better that Hazel and I could watch the game from.

Having no luck, I focus on the field, watching as the two teams go through a few warm-ups, and before I know it, the game has started, and Hazel is going apeshit beside me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her cheer so loudly for anyone in my life.

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