Page 72 of Help Me Remember
“That’s the point of a date.”
She slides back a few steps so she’s standing behind the four boys. “Well, then you should’ve planned better, Spence. My new friends here and I are going to kick your butt.”
“Yeah we will!” says the kid who called me old. “You’re going down, old man.”
“You should watch it, or you’re going to be my first target.”
Brie crouches so she’s closer to their height. “Don’t worry, boys, I played softball in college.”
“You were a bench warmer,” I correct.
“And what sport did you play? Oh, that’s right, you didn’t because you were too busy doing what again?”
I love her. I fucking love her even more right now. She’s back to the girl I remember, who’s all quick wit and humor.
“I was running the journalism club.”
The boys snicker. “You’re a nerd.”
“He totally is,” Brie agrees.
“You know, I did train with the Navy SEALs.”
That at least earns me a little respect from the kids. “Whoa, that’s cool!”
I nod. “Are you sure you don’t want to be on my team?”
Brielle puts her hand on two of the boys’ shoulders. “Find your own team, Cross. These boys and I have to go strategize.”
The woman from the table smiles and hands each of the boys a white T-shirt. “I don’t have adult-sized shirts for you since this was meant to be a youth event.” She looks to Brielle. “The youth extra-large should fit you.” Then she turns to me, her lips pinched in thought. “We could pin one to your shirt. Helena and I were going to be captains, but you and your girlfriend will definitely be better. I’m Sara, by the way.”
“Thank you, Sara. I’m Brielle, and this is Spencer,” Brie says, taking her shirt. “We are really excited.”
“Oh, so are we.”
I bet. It’s going to make for a great story no matter what.
Sara hands me a youth extra-large, and it doesn’t even go halfway across my chest. The hits keep coming.
Sara pins my shirt on as Brielle does this magic trick where she pulls one shirt on before taking the other off. I have no idea how she does it, but it is most definitely not something the male gender could accomplish.
Then she throws me a cheeky grin. “See you on the flip side, Cross.”
“Yeah, the losing side,” I toss back.
She winks and then leads her new entourage over to where it seems a few more of the kids’ friends were waiting. We walk to where my team is apparently going to be, and . . . well, I’m screwed.
It’s apparently boys versus girls, and I am leading the girls. I’m not all that great with kids’ ages, but I’m guessing these are the younger siblings of the turds who are with Brie.
“Kids, this is your team captain, Mr. Cross. He’s going to help you guys try to win,” Sara says.
I wave, and one of the little girls raises her hand. “Yes?”
“Can I hide behind you? I don’t want to get hit.”
At least I know my weakest link. “That’s not really how it works, but we’ll figure out a plan.”
The girl next to her raises her hand. “My name is Mable, that’s Taylor, and I don’t like water. My mommy says I have to take baths because it’s the law. I don’t like the law.”
