We park in the satellite lot behind the school nearest the field. At the first sight of the squad, Natalie abandons me with a bright “See you later,” her pom-poms sparkling in the setting sun. I wander past a brick shoebox of a building with a sign pronouncing it the athletic center, which I think is a fancy way of saying locker rooms.

I round the corner, stadium entry in sight, and there’s Ben. Today’s tee is Fleetwood Mac with an open flannel shirt layered on top. Boho lumberjack? I’m sure I light up like a Christmas tree.

“Hi,” I say, lost for something more clever or winning to say. I’ve gone goofy, shy. Doubly abashed after our fight yesterday.

“Hi,” he returns, pink in his cheeks. “You look…Wow.”

I’d forgotten about the hot-girl makeover from Natalie. “Thanks.”

“Shall we?” Ben’s read my mind, it seems. He takes my hand in his and tugs me toward the field, where we stroll close past the band and cheerleaders warming up. I wave hello to Bronte.

“Is your grandfather okay?” I ask Ben.

“What? Oh, yeah, he’s good. He must have caught a bug or something. I did still manage to make my shift with Maura. I was disappointed you weren’t at home. Did you go straight to Natalie’s?”

I’m not fooled by Ben’s casual tone.

“Not exactly. I had that appointment with her mom, which is why Natalie gave me a ride over here.”

I think about Natalie’s house, protected on the beach, while Ben’s home was swallowed by the sea. Guilt pangs me for even having brought it up. “Listen, about yesterd—”

“Stop,” Ben says. “I was wrong. I know you are smart enough to make your own decisions. I didn’t mean to impl—”

“I didn’t mean to suggest—” I say at the same time.

We both grin, knowing all is forgiven.

I change the subject. “So are you going to sit with me during the game or what?”

He grins. “As much as I would love that, I actually can’t. I have some game-day duties to attend to.”

“What are you, the water boy or something? You’re a bit too on the lean side to be a football player.”

“You checking me out?” He waggles his brows suggestively, and I play coy.

“Maybe.”

His laugh surprises me. It comes from his whole body. And his face is aglow, breaking the careful concentration he usually has. I quietly wish for the comedic powers to make him laugh all the time.

“I’ll see you after the game. And then tomorrow. But now I do have to go.” He’s already backing away, clearly deflecting my questions.

“You’re not gonna tell me what you have to do?”

Ben spins, his duffel slung over his shoulder, and smiles playfully before disappearing into the crowd.

CHAPTER TEN