We hung out at Becky’s for the entire day, just lounging and watching old movies. I’d filled the girls in on how Reed was acting, as well as the accusations and gossip Jason spilled on me before I left. Becky and Sienna were both hanging on every word I said during the part about Jason, but Sarah seemed less concerned. When I was done, she just got up from the couch and slapped her hands on her thighs in front of her.
“Pffft, Jason’s just an ass. He’s just trying to get to you…and by getting to you, get to Reed,” she said, turning to go fill her bowl with more chips.
“Yeah, but I did see Reed with that girl, and they were really close. She was flirty with him, like they knew each other. And it wouldn’t be the craziest thing that he did something with someone else while we’re apart…not that we officially broke up, but…shit, well? I guess we sort of did,” I said, hanging my head down and just searching for something to fill that raw and empty feeling I had in my gut every time I thought of Reed.
“Noles,” Sarah said, climbing over the back of the sofa to join our girls’ circle again. “Listen. I got in his face a little about her last night, and he swore there was nothing there. He promised…and I’m pretty good at reading people. He wasn’t lying.”
She just started eating her chips again and picked up the remote to start the next movie. I slid into the sofa cushions next to her and pulled my knees up to hug them. “I hope you’re right,” I said, sighing a little.
“I am,” she said, not even phased. Her confidence gave me a tiny lift, and I was going to ride that out for the rest of the night.
The ASU and UofA rival game was something special. And while I may have been a Sun Devil to the core, when Reed played, I was on his team—no colors, no sides. Just him. I rode up early with Sarah, Sienna, Sean and Becky; my parents were planning to come up later. Buck had gotten them seats next to his, with most of the other boosters. They were comfortable, and would be out of the sun. Sienna was leaving us to join the band, which sat near the visiting team’s entrance for the game. Our seats were in the student section, so for tonight, I would wear red and blue, and show my support for the only man I’d ever loved.
Buck had a grill set up at the back of his truck parked near the stadium and was cooking for his alumni friends when we strolled up. He was starting to get around a little better now, his leg still in his cast, but he was able to stand propped up on his crutches. Rosie was with him today. I noticed how she cared for him, and it warmed my heart seeing Buck get the love and attention he deserved.
“There’s my girl,” Buck said, reaching out an arm to call me in for a hug.
“Hey, Buck. Good to see you standing,” I said, hugging him back and reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. He smiled at my gesture, and it made me feel sad that there might be a day in the future where this man wouldn’t be a part of my life. Reed left me confused this morning, and Jason left me feeling even more so. I didn’t know where I stood, where we stood. But for the first time since I’d called him and poured my heart out with confessions on his voicemail, I wanted to talk—the real, soul-baring kind of talk. And my heart skipped a little that Reed might actually want to listen.
“Hate to tell you this, darlin’, but your school’s going to lose today,” Buck winked at me, bringing me out of my daydream. Normally, I’d give it right back to him; our longstanding battle over who was superior among our Arizona schools, a tradition between us. But today I just had to agree with him, because deep down, I never wanted Reed to lose.
“I hope you’re right,” I said, smiling warmly. He understood, and just squeezed me harder.
We fixed our burgers and climbed into the back of Buck’s truck to eat. We were happily stuffing our faces—the quiet sounds of chewing, and faint sounds of the band and crowd in the background, the only other distraction until the rumble of another engine pulled up next to us. I turned to see who it was and came face to face with the girl I dreamt about last night. She was blonde, her skin was perfect, and when she turned to face me, our eyes meeting, she looked at me with clear recognition. But she wasn’t intimidated or ashamed. She was confident and acted as if she belonged here. Sarah’s words echoed in my mind, “Nothing’s there,” and “he wasn’t lying.” I played her words over in my head like a mantra, but my own self-loathing had me wavering. Hell, truth was, I wasn’t wavering, I was faltering, falling off a cliff. And when Jenny laughed and slung her hair over her shoulder—her bronzed shoulders, and blue eyes sparkling in the sun—I was suddenly transformed into my weaker, younger self, the girl who was never good enough.