The air is cool as we arrive back at the school, cramped in James’s car. The boys have been silent; I don’t think I’ve seen them speak since the confrontation at lunch, and the awkwardness in the atmosphere is hard to think through. James pulls into a parking space, and we all file out of the car.

“James and I have to go get ready,” Damien explains, turning to me, markedly calmer than he was in the cafeteria. “We’ll see you guys after the game.”

He pauses before shrugging out of his varsity jacket and passing it to me. I reach for it, my fingers clasping the material slowly, a frown of confusion on my face. “It’s kind of tradition for the girlfriends of the players to wear them,” he explains.

“Oh.” I’m thrown off by his constant use of the word girlfriend. Three times in one day feels like far too many. Soon, he won’t be able to call me that at all. “I don’t know if I should.”

Damien shrugs, looking at me imploringly. “It’s just a jacket, Allie. Besides, it’s chilly tonight.”

After debating with myself, I accept the jacket, slipping my arms through the large sleeves and feeling my cheeks burn slightly.

A wistful smile stays on his face as he observes me in the jacket before he reaches out and lifts my dark hair out of the collar, letting it fan across my shoulders. “I’ve missed seeing you wear it,” he admits.

“Damien,” I begin, my voice low. “Can we talk? After the game?”

His expression immediately becomes guarded. “Yeah,” he forces out. “I’ll see you later.”

“Good luck,” I call weakly as he turns away, James in tow. I need to break up with him, and I need to do it tonight. I can’t let this go on anymore.

Zoe smirks at me, her hand encircling my wrist. “Come on, let’s go stake our claim.”

She tugs me along behind her, trailing toward the bleachers. The smell of freshly cut grass permeates the air as Zoe leads me into the stands, waving at a couple of people I don’t recognize. We end up in a spot near the middle, where she sits down after wiping off the seat.

I take the one next to her, burrowing into the jacket to keep warm and looking out at the field below us. All of it feels vaguely nostalgic. I’ve most likely sat in this exact spot many times, observing this same scene—the waning sunlight, the shadows from the nets stretching across the green, the electric atmosphere. It makes my heart ache. Like the old Allie is here, but she’s just out of my reach.