He was sitting with what looked like his parents and a pretty blond girl. My stomach plummeted immediately. Had he brought that girl with him to his brother’s game? I looked behind me at my mother, considering going back, and while I was contemplating my next move, this big guy began to make impatient noises because apparently I was blocking his girlfriend’s view. Right at that moment Nate turned to see what the commotion was behind him and his eyes zeroed in on me.
His lips parted in shock as if this was the last place he’d ever think to see me. Tell me about it. I forced my legs to keep sidestepping down the row until we were directly behind him. Awkward with a capital A.
The pretty blond girl next to him turned as well and looked me up and down. It could have very well been my colorful hair and tattoos, because I got that stank-eye often. Or it could have been curiosity about whom Nate, who was clearly there with her, was staring at.
But hold on a minute, Nate didn’t date. Was this a setup his parents had arranged? The girl certainly fit the bill.
Hi, Blue,” Nate said, his voice tentative, his eyes skating over to my brother and his friend, possibly recalling our earlier conversation. “I see you made it to a game.”
“Hey, Square,” I said, to set a level playing field. Then I grimaced. Was I trying to make the girl think I knew Nate better than she did? I didn’t do that kind of thing so I quickly pulled my shit together. “My brother wanted to come today since the Panthers will be going on the road next week.”
He nodded and then repositioned himself so that he could face me better in his seat.
“Nate,” I said, leaning over and catching my mom’s eyes, which widened in response. “This is my mom, my brother, Cameron, and his friend, Ryan.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Walters.” Nate gave a half wave to my mom and then to my brother and friend. Nate’s mom, dad, and date all turned to stare at us. His mom wore a half smile, his father a half glare.
“Hey, Cam,” I said, getting my brother’s attention. “Nate’s brother, Luke, is a linebacker for the Panthers.”
Cameron’s wide eyes drifted to the players’ bench and back to Nate. “You’re Luke Connors’s brother? He’s a beast. Right, Ryan?”
“Totally,” his friend said. “That’s my position, too.”
Nate’s mother now wore a shocked expression, probably because I seemed to know some information about her family. His dad’s eyes were drawn together in confusion and the girl next to Nate had something that looked like pride on her face. What the hell?
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Nate’s father as my stomach pitched and rolled knowing that he’d taken out his anger and whatever the hell else on this family.
Mr. Connors was a large man, easily over six feet tall. He could effortlessly snap Nate’s mother’s small frame in two. Yet here this family sat, looking normal and mostly comfortable, hiding behind all of that history. I guess you just never knew a person.
I saw a flash of distress course through Nate’s eyes as his gaze followed mine to his father. I shook my head at him, telling him in my own way not to worry, that I wouldn’t betray his trust.
I got now why people tried to keep such ugliness hidden. Because I wanted to spit in Mr. Connors’s face as he regarded me with distaste, probably thinking I wasn’t good enough for his son. That maybe only blond privileged Barbies were.
“Uh, this is my mom and dad,” Nate said turning awkwardly in his seat toward them. They nodded out of politeness, his mother’s gesture warmer than his father’s. “And this is my brother’s girlfriend, Anna.”
His brother’s girlfriend. Now that made more sense. It was so ridiculous for me to feel relief, but I did. She pushed her beautiful hair over her shoulder and said, “Hi.”
The stands erupted over a touchdown and we settled in to watch more of the game.
Over the course of the second quarter, what I noticed about Nate’s family was that they were awkward and stiff. His father spoke to Anna but never to Nate. Nate only really addressed his mother.
I felt a text buzz in my pocket and I pulled out my phone. It was from Nate who was sitting almost directly in front of me.
Well this is awkward.
Me: Kinda sorta. Doesn’t have to be.
Him: Thanks for acting . . . normal.
My mother leaned over and nudged me. “Who’s texting you?”
“Nate,” I whispered.
She smiled and shook her head.
Him: Where’s you giant foam finger? Can’t believe you showed up without it.
Me: Where’s you colossal monster? Bet he’d have a cheering section all to himself.
He stole a quick look over his shoulder and grinned at me.
We texted silly shit throughout the first half, which made the game way less boring.
During halftime his father got up and announced he needed to leave to catch his flight to St. Louis. He gave his wife a chaste kiss on the lips that left her looking disconcerted, he barely acknowledged Nate, and then said a warm good-bye to Anna.
Once he departed, the air seemed to transform and lighten. Nate turned in his seat to chat with me, Anna walked down to greet to some friends, and my mom got into a friendly conversation with Mrs. Connors about several different topics including work and charity groups.
Nate’s knees kept brushing mine and I felt a shiver race down my spine just as my phone buzzed with another text.
I looked down at my screen and then quickly up at Nate, because he had sneakily sent me another text.