Page 59 of Finding Delaware

It’s fucked up, honestly, how Xed is pretty much a glorified babysitter since Valerie can’t keep her fucking nose clean, and poor Matty spends half his time worried about being a single dad when he should be focusing on his career-

I gasp as that thought crosses my mind. “The game!”

Salem points an acrylic nail to a TV on the far wall. “Already turned it on for you, love. Figured you’d want to catch the end.”

“You da bomb, Sally Mal.”

Plopping a wet Cheeto-covered kiss on her cheek, which she wipes off with a gag, I make my way over to watch the season championships playing on the screen and look at the score.

California Golden Bears 29

Utah Utes 17

Fuuuck, we’re getting slaughtered.

The camera zooms across the players in formation on the field, with five minutes left in the fourth quarter. A hollow feeling blooms in my stomach, dropping my mood. I’ve basically missed the whole game, and this one’s special. It couldn’t be helped, of course, because I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to perform tonight just to watch a football game, but…

I missed my chance to watchhim.

The Utes have the ball, breaking formation, and I catch sight of Matt’s broad shoulders as he defends his wide receiver, but my eyes move across the players on the other team. Searching...searching…

There.

My breath hitches when the camera zooms in on the running back for the Golden Bears as he intercepts the ball, making a run for the end zone. His name appears across the bottom of the screen, along with his stats.

Huckslee Davis, jersey number twenty, currently in his fourth and final season playing for the California Golden Bears at CU Berkeley.

I hear the others close in around me as they sit on the surrounding couches to watch the game, but my focus is glued to the screen, my eyes greedily taking in Huck as he books it across the field. Strong legs pump him forward, and his thick bicep grips the ball. My mouth goes dry, as always, when I watch him play.

And I’ve watched every game over the last four years.

The camera zooms in on him again, cutting to the ball in his arms, and I stiffen when I see what looks like a scroll of black ink near his elbow. Leaning in, I try to read it, but the image changes and I’m left gritting my teeth.

Did he...did he get a tattoo? When? I didn’t notice it during the last game. What does it say?

Fuck, I hate not knowing. It’s been years, yet the knowledge that I know nothing about what’s happening with Huck still hurts. It’s an ache I doubt will ever go away.

“Hey,tonto,” Christian shouts from behind, snapping me back to reality. “You make a better door than a window. Move, fucker.”

Throwing a glare over my shoulder, I shift to the side, realizing that I had my forehead on the screen. Jesus.

And this is why I usually watch his games alone.

Huck nearly makes it ten yards before Matty sacks him, bringing him to the ground so hard the ball drops from his hands. Absently, I reach up and massage my sore shoulder.

“Look, there’s your daddy.” Salem points to Matt on the screen, eliciting a string of claps from Hannah, who sits on her lap.

Cheers erupt in the room, but it doesn’t matter. The game is already lost, anyway. Matty stands and offers a hand down to Huck, who takes it and lets himself be pulled to his feet. They share a conversation for a moment before tapping the front of their helmets together, and I hate the way my throat burns with jealousy for Matthew right now.

Me and jealousy? We don’t mix. I never once felt possessive of any girl I’ve dated over the last four years, but for some reason, it’s all I feel when it comes to Huckslee. And it’s fucking toxic.

The clock ticks down for several tense minutes, and the Utes let the time run out. The game is over. The Golden Bears have won. Poor Matty. But…

“Congrats, Huck,” I whisper, low enough for only myself to hear.

And the moment that I spend every second of every game waiting for comes when the camera catches him pulling off his helmet. That mess of blond curls flops onto his brows, plastered with sweat, and he grins triumphantly as his teammates surround him in celebration. He looks...ecstatic. Elated. It’s a look I never got to see with him, and I drink it down like the alcoholic I am, needing my fix.

His jawline is sharper, and his skin is a deep bronze shade from spending time in the California sun. Not for the first time,I hope he’s happy—genuinely, authentically happy. I hope life got better when he moved in with his grandparents out there, and I hope he’s been able to find peace. Because he deserves it. After everything, he deserves good things.

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