Page 46 of Fair Catch

Become protective of him too, it seems.

“He told you.” It doesn’t come out as a question. It’s more of an awed statement, and I’m not entirely sure why.

“Bits and pieces,” I confirm, nodding. “But I’m sure there’s a lot more to it than what I’ve heard.”

“I never wanted to hurt him.” Tension lines his jaw, and he works to swallow. “I’ll still always want what’s best for him, and he’ll always be one of my favorite people, even if we never get back to how things were before.”

“Friends fight, even the best of them. My best friend and I get on each other’s nerves constantly, it’s just par for the course,” I reason, my eyes locked on his profile. “Plus, I know he misses you. A lot.”

If there’s something I can be sure of, it’s that.

Phoenix nods a few times, and it’s obvious from the way his teeth sink into his cheek, he wants to ask for more information, but won’t let himself.

Kason does end up coming out for the second half of the game with the rest of the team, but he’s used sparingly on the field.

With my nerves somewhat extinguished, I’m able to focus on the game as a whole, asking questions to Phoenix as it continues. I’ll be the first to admit, while I’m not a people person, having someone beside me explain what is happening is a fuckton easier than just reading about it on the internet.

By the time the game ends and the fans start shuffling out of their seats toward the exits, I realize Phoenix and I might’ve been talking the entire time. Mostly about the game, but a few times, we were just talking. Learning things about each other.

Weird.

Phoenix and I rise to our feet, waiting our turn to reach the aisle, and I take the opportunity to thank him for giving me a more thorough rundown of football.

“Don’t mention it, man,” Phoenix says, waving me off. “Are you gonna be coming to all the games from now on?”

I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest. But considering I’d go to Quinton’s games whenever I had the time…

“Probably not every game, but when I can, I will. Why? Are you planning to be at all of them?”

Phoenix nods as we make our way up the stairs and into the main concourse. “The home ones, yeah. And probably a few of the closer away games.” Pausing, he adds, “You’re always welcome to ride with me if you decide to go.”

The likelihood of me taking him up on that is low, but I thank him for the offer anyway.

“I’m going this way,” he tells me, pointing in the direction further down the concourse once we reach the entrance I came through. “I’m gonna wait outside the locker room for Holden.”

“Oh, cool. Well, thanks again.”

Phoenix gives me a bit of a bro-nod. “No problem. Hopefully I see you around again.”

Not one to drag out goodbyes—despite being a midwesterner—I leave him where he stands and head for the exit. I don’t make it more than three steps, though, before I hear my name called from behind me.

“Hayes.” Turning back toward Phoenix, I arch a questioning brow. He smirks and says two words that have absolutely no meaning to me. “BlueGatorade.”

I frown. “What about it?”

“It’s Kason’s favorite. I used to bring him one before every game, hand it to him over the wall. And if I couldn’t go, I’d leave him one in the fridge at the apartment.” There’s a sadness woven into his tone when he adds, “It was sort of a tradition.”

I wouldn’t need to read minds to know exactly what Phoenix is thinking.

Or more, what he’srequesting.

So I nod, and make a mental note to start buying blue Gatorades on my way home from class Friday nights.

Twelve

Hayes

The front door opens a little more than an hour after I get home from the game, and I glance up from my place on the couch to find Kason hobbling his way into the apartment. He doesn’t notice me lounging on the couch right away despite having an episode ofAmerican Horror Storyon the television.

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