Page 20 of Home Field Advantage

Fuck, I smell like deli meat. I run to the kitchen to scrub my hands and rinse out my mouth, then yank open every drawer until I find a pack of gum. I’d only broken into theturkey after talking myself into the idea that she wasn’t gonna show, and now I’m cursing myself for it.

But any regrets fall away when I slide up the window and see her there, wearing little overall shorts and a tank top, sitting on the grass and ruffling it with her fingers.

I wish taking a picture of her wouldn’t be a creepy move, but it would, so I settle for a mental one.

“How was the party?”

She glances over her shoulder and pushes herself to standing. “Oof, you scared me. Where have you been?”

“Not literally waiting at the window for you to show up,” I say, wishing I could reach out and flick one of her braids.

“I see that. Well, anyway, not to shock you, but victory parties without the person who led us to victory are tremendously stupid, actually.”

God, I could kiss her right now. “You don’t say.”

“I did, however, steal a beer for you, just in case. Figured we could toast your victory, and there wasn’t any champagne.”

“Do you actually like beer?”

“Not even a little bit,” she says with a laugh that lights up her face. “You?”

“Not even a little bit. But I do like cute girls who bring me beer.”

“Whew, that’s good to know.” She wipes imaginary sweat from her forehead and takes a couple of steps in my direction. “What else do you like? Just, you know, for the next time I have to decorate your locker.”

“I will never complain about Famous Amos cookies,” I assure her, resting my head on my arms atop the sill, “but if you’re baking, I happen to be very into those peanut butter cookies with the fork marks on top.”

“The fork marks are an important part of this recipe?”

“Probably the most important part. Something to do with physics.”

“Makes sense.” She’s close enough now that I can smell her floral shampoo and spicy cinnamon gum, but neither of us makes a move to touch the other. “So, can I come in or what?”

“Oh, right.” I was digging theRomeo and Julietfeel of the window so much, I almost forgot I had a front door. I gesture for her to walk around to it, then let her in and show her to the couch while I head into our small kitchen. “Something to drink?”

“Nah, I’m good.” She curls up on the couch I haven’t yet pulled out for sleep, tucking her feet under her. “So, I have to know. Sexist political bullshit aside, how’d it feel?”

I sigh and run a hand over my hair, pulled tight as always. It’s not exactly the sexiest question, but it does feel good to be able to tell the truth to someone instead of having to keep playing happy. “Honestly? Harder to separate from the sexist political bullshit than I thought it would be. On the field, though…” I don’t even realize my hands are cradling an imaginary football until I’m about to pull it back to throw a perfect nonexistent spiral. “Fuck, that felt good. Seeing myparents cheer felt good. Getting to play feltsofucking good. And running one in… God, there is nothing like it. But.”

Her face falls. “I’m sorry. I was cheering for you. I wish I could’ve done a whole run for you. Watching you was really incredible.”

“You can make up for it now.” I cross my arms over my chest and watch her gaze follow. I have absolutely no boobs to speak of, which means my biceps might be proving to be good for something other than throwing fifteen-yard passes. “It’s never too late for a personal cheer.”

She waggles her eyebrows. “You may be testing me, QB1, but Ialwaysrise to a cheer challenge.” Her eyes dart to the bedroom door, which is wide open.

“They’re out celebrating me,” I confirm. “My mom and I moved here by ourselves while my dad stayed back with my brothers, so it’s usually just me and her, but he came out tonight to see my first game.”

“You didn’t want to go with them?” she asks. “Or… were you not invited? Don’t worry,” she says quickly. “I can empathize with the latter. My dad sucks.”

“No, no, I sent them off on their own. I didn’t feel like going out.” I don’t wanna get all sad sack about it, but from the way Amber nods, she gets it. “Anyway, thought they should have a nice date or whatever, since they haven’t seen each other all week. But I’m sorry your dad sucks. How sucky are we talking? I’ll come with you to egg his house right the fuck now, if you want.”

She laughs, lifting all the tiny hairs on my arms. “He sucks hard enough to deserve that, but his house isn’t close enough to egg, anyway. He was completely obsessed with the Blue Angels as a kid and decided that having a family would hold him back from his dream of flying, so he ditched me and my mom when I was still tiny to join the Air Force. He just left divorce papers on the counter, periodically checked in from around the world, and stopped doing even that when he got remarried. I did see him for my sixteenth birthday, so he could offload his old car onto me as a gift, but now he’s up in North Carolina. Probably not gonna see him again for at least a few years, if that.”

It’s so much more than I expected her to say, and so much shittier than I imagined, which makes it all the more shocking to me that this girl makes the choice to get out of bed every day andcheer. I feel like I should say something monumental, something that acknowledges what she’s trusting me with, but all I can manage is, “Wow, what a dick.”

She shrugs, like it’s no big deal, like she isn’t strong as hell for not just pushing through that but becoming a person whosejobit is to exude joy. “The bright side is thathismom was so appalled by his shittiness that she writes me a big check every birthday, though that’ll probably stop now that he and his wife are expecting their second kid. So, you know. Fingers crossed for a winning lottery ticket or a miracle scholarship. Not sure which is more likely at this point.”

It takes me a few seconds to realize the stinging in mypalms is the result of me digging my nails into them, making fists I wish I could take to this dude I’ve never even met. I loosen them, shake out my hands, and say, “You’re gonna get it. I know it. You’re the best one out there.”

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