But I know.
I know about the green bottle of shampoo, and that he’s scared of flying. I know he can keep a secret better than Lily the summer a bottle of wine mysteriously went missing from my parents’ wine fridge, and I know Nathan’s sheets feel butter soft against my skin. He is mine, and my heart fist-pumps at the thought.
Mrs. Donelson returns a little later with a fresh drink, and we all sit in terribly awkward silence. She taps her long manicured nails against the plastic armrest, and we’re all dying for this game to begin. The long point of her high heel vibrates back and forth. Lily and I keep making discreet torture faces back and forth behind her back.
Finally, the announcers boom over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to welcome the NFC Champions, the LA Sharks!”
The stadium flares with screams, and camera crews swarm. It’s showtime. I’m on the edge of my seat as the dense fog and bright lights fill the front of the Sharks’ tunnel.
And there they are.
Nathan emerges first with the team on his heels. They sprint through the fog with a self-confidence that shivers over everyone’s skin. In this moment, I don’t care what you think about the sport—you want to be these athletes.
Jamal flexes both arms and gladiator-yells. Other men are fist-pumping and air-kicking their way across the field to their bench. Nathan is quietly Nathan. He runs out with steel in his veins, unflappable as always. When he’s on the fifty-yard line, he stops and his helmet tilts up. I can feel his eyes on me as if his fingers were trailing across my skin. He smiles for the first time and lifts his arm to wave at me. And then he points. The universal gesture of This is for you, love. I make a goofy face then blow him a kiss. He catches it. Fans turn and zero their laser-beam eyes on me—but all I care about is Nathan.
During halftime, Lily and Mrs. Donelson are attempting to chitchat, but since Lily is talking through clenched teeth, I’m assuming it’s probably not going well. I’ve slipped away into the snack bar area of the box to stare at my phone just in case Nathan gets a minute to text me.
“…it’s because he’s been…distracted lately,” says Mrs. Donelson in a not-so-veiled attempt to blame the fact that the Sharks are down by a touchdown on me. I select a cookie from the table and take a large bite. Mmm, chocolate chips.
Lily feels the need to go to bat for me and Nathan—which is adorable and hilarious to me because I don’t waste one feeling on Vivian. “Distractions are good for humans. I think his distractions are what helped him evade that sack in the second quarter.” A bit of a reach, Lil, but the gesture is sweet.
Mrs. Donelson huffs. I continue to eat my cookie. “Not likely. He looks sluggish today. I don’t think he’s been spending enough time training.”
“I don’t think you’ve been spending enough time telling him he is doing a great job!!”
Whoa, that escalated quickly. Lily stands. Mrs. Donelson stands. These women are about to throw down, and I’m just back here enjoying my cookie.
My phone buzzes so I turn away and get lost in conversation with my favorite person.
* * *
Nathan: Hi. How’s your day going?
Me: Oh, fine. How’s yours?
Nathan: Pretty boring. Nothing’s really happening. I miss you.
* * *
Mrs. Donelson’s voice cuts through my thoughts briefly. “I push him because I love him!”
* * *
Me: Same. Same.
Nathan: Are we still on for our plans later?
* * *
“THAT IS NOT LOVE,” Lily shouts.
“And just how long have you been a mom, missy?”
“Don’t missy me!”
* * *
Me: Our elopement? Oh yeah, I totally forgot about that. Sounds good though.