Page 95 of How to Lose at Love

I nod. “Yup.”

twenty-one

ryann

“Dating him was pointless. We could have just stayed strangers.”

– Ryann Winters

And that’show I ended up in the stands at a Wisconsin football game in a borrowed hoodie, borrowed red mittens, and a newly purchased white knit hat.

I’ve got spirit, yes, I do. I’ve got spirit, how ’bout you?

Not.

Winnie, Sav, and I found our seats with the help of a stadium concierge—a person whose job I never knew existed—after a trip to the concession stand and toilets, the line a mile long at the female bathrooms.

“This is ridiculous,” Winnie complained when we stood waiting. “I’m going to go to the men’s room—there’s never a line there.”

Sav gripped her arm. “They’re not letting anyone get away with that anymore.”

Winnie threw her arms up. “They should convert the men’s into another women’s room and add a tiny men’s toilet. There’s never a line over there.” She pouted.

She’s not wrong.

“Want a nacho?” She’s holding the plastic, fried-tortilla-filled treat in the freezing cold air.

“Uh, no, thanks. The cheese is already fermented.”

She’s digging a chip into the center of the sludge. “That’s the beauty of the nacho.”

“I find beauty in a lot of things, but never stadium nachos.”

“You’re the one missing out.”

Totally.

Sav, our friend from freshman year who picks up the occasional shift at the diner every so often, was more than happy to tag along, the tickets we scored a hot commodity on campus.

“How the hell did you get seats on the fifty-yard line so close to the action?”

Winnie answers for me, chewing. “She’s best buddies with Dallas Colter.”

“Are you serious?”

I shrug. “I guess so.”

“Wait—how am I just hearing about this? Have you been holding out on me?”

Yes and no.

Mostly yes.

“We have a class together and he started sitting by me.” Which is kind of annoying since he never shuts up. “He barely fits in the desk.”

“What class is it?” Sav asks.

“Business communication.”

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