Page 10

Sunflower – Post Malone, Swae Lee

Declan

T he crowd roars, shaking the stadium, as the defense takes the field in the fourth quarter. We’re up by three touchdowns—two of which belong to me—but the energy never wanes.

I reach the sideline, and players tap my helmet and shoulder as I pass. There’s only one place I want to be, and it’s wherever Addie is standing. She’s a hard woman to catch on the sidelines, constantly moving around, but I think I’ve nailed down her routine, which means she’s going to be refilling water bottles.

She’s right where I expect her to be.

When my hand lands on her lower back, she yelps and drops the half-full bottle. Water sloshes at our feet, and she whips around, eyes frantic.

“What the—oh, hi,” she says quietly. “You’ve been playing well.”

She smiles, and the warmth in it strikes me directly in the heart.

“There’s someone I want to impress,” I admit, taking a step closer. I want to inhale the sweet fruity scent of her hair until I’m washed away in a sea of bliss.

“Oh, who?” Addie quickly scans the stands. “Is your family here?”

My stomach falls. She can’t know the impact of her words because she doesn’t know my history. I’d like to tell her one day, but now is not the time to unpack my baggage.

“You,” I say, tugging on a loose strand of auburn hair. “I’m trying to impress you.”

Her lips form an ‘O’ and the apples of her cheeks turn a deep red. My eyes linger on her lips, imagining what she would taste like. I was so close to kissing her in the equipment closet, but then she broke down and clung to me while she cried.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world—her in my arms, looking to me for comfort.

“Is it working?”

Her eyes sparkle. “Not really.”

She shrugs and slips past me, but her laughter is infectious as I chase her down. She stops in front of the offensive line and passes out bottles. Jack gives me a bemused look. I drop onto the bench beside him and split my attention between the last minute of the game and Addie.

Long legs stretch in her leggings and it takes all my restraint to not stare at her ass…for too long. I lose her in the sea of players beginning to cheer for our first win of the season, and walk out to shake hands with some of the players from the other team.

Henry, Jack, and Deon never linger long, wanting to shower and meet their partners in the family room. They head to the locker room, and I search for Addie. I haven’t seen her outside of work, and that needs to change. I want to spend time with her and Nora again.

She’s nowhere to be found, so I head to the locker room.

Players filter in, followed by the coaching staff. Coach Barrett, our head coach, gives a small speech about teamwork and starting the season out strong.

“Now, we have the game ball,” he says, and it feels like every pair of eyes in the room falls on me. “Monroe, get up here.” I rise to stand beside him, and he clasps my shoulder. “You played with heart today.”

He hands me the game ball, and the room cheers. Henry drags me into a hug when I return to my locker, and my hands shake slightly at the recognition.

“Well deserved,” Deon says, palm gripping my shoulder.

I nod, and grief claws at my chest. More than anything, I want to call Alan and show him the ball. He would have been so proud, and then offered pointers on what I did wrong.

The hot spray from the shower does nothing to wash away the bitter sadness, and when I watch my friends greet the people they love, it only compounds. Henry lifts Sawyer into the air, spinning her around as she giggles. Maren flings herself at Jack, arms wrapped around his shoulders as she whispers in his ear. Nathalie peppers Deon in kisses, and when he blushes, she presses his cheeks together and plants a sloppy kiss on his lips.

Other players greet their loved ones. It’s a room bursting with love. But I’m standing alone.

I’m tapped on the shoulder, and when I swing around, every thought fades away.

Addie wrings her hands in front of her, nibbling on her lip. Her work bag hangs off her shoulder, and she takes a step closer, her chest only inches away from mine.

“I was very impressed,” she admits.

Her eyes drop to my lips, and my heartbeat picks up. “Addie, I’d like to—”

“Victory ice cream!” Nathalie yells, and a round of cheers follows.

Addie’s eyes widen, and she takes a step back, but I catch her hand. “Come with us,” I say, though it borders on begging.

“I only have a babysitter until six,” she says, glancing down at her smartwatch. “I can't. I’m sorry.”

“Let’s get Nora. She can come with us.”

Addie looks stunned. “You want to get Nora?”

“Yes? I miss her.”

She’s hilarious, and I know my friends would love her.

Addie is staring at me like she’s discovering something new. “Alright. We’ll go with you.”

An hour later, Addie, Nora, and I pull up to the small ice cream stand.

“Can I get two scoops?” Nora asks from the backseat.

It took us longer to get out the door than I expected. When Addie and I made it to her apartment, Nora had to show me all the drawings she had made, and then she needed to change and say goodbye to her stuffed animals. The fact that Addie makes it to work remotely on time is a miracle.

“Only one scoop,” Addie responds.

Nora is not a fan of the response, huffing, before she asks, “Decy, can I get two scoops?”

She can’t see Addie’s face, but I can, and the utter disbelief is hilarious.

“Did she just call me Decy?” I whisper conspiratorially.

“Who cares about that? She just tried to sidestep my decision by asking you.”

“Smart girl.” Addie’s lip twitches, and her smile breaks. I turn to face Nora in the backseat. “Your mom said one scoop. What she says, goes.”

Nora’s nose scrunches, and the pink plastic tiara atop her head bobbles when she crosses her arms. “Can I have sprinkles?”

I look at Addie, who nods. “Yes, you may have sprinkles.”

“Thank you, Decy!” she yells as she unbuckles herself. Addie chuffs, but we help her out of the car, and when Nora’s small hand grabs mine, my chest squeezes. Addie holds her other hand, and I take a few deep breaths to tame the beast in my chest, roaring with how much it likes this moment.

Chatter comes to a stop when Addie and I reach the picnic table where my friends sit.

Nerves radiate off Addie, and Nora is smiling brightly.

I survey each of my friends for their response to Nora. If it isn’t a warm welcome, there are going to be major issues.

Sawyer and Nathalie are waving at Nora like they know her. Maren’s eyes examine me, then Nora, and finally Addie. She raises a brow and smirks. Henry and Jack look on in confusion, and Deon’s manic smile returns as his focus volleys between Nora and me.

“Everyone, this is Nora and Addie.”

One by one, each person says their name, but when it’s Sawyer’s turn, Nora says, “I know Mrs. Sawyer and Ms. Nathalie.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to tell you,” Deon blurts out, “But Nathalie told me I couldn’t because it wasn’t our information to share, but it’s been eating me alive.”

My jaw unhinges slightly, but Sawyer and Nathalie shrug. “Not your place,” Nathalie says.

I understand completely, and I respect them for it.

“I see them at camp,” Nora says, “They let me do as many crafts as I want.”

“Damn right,” Nathalie responds. “The craft room is the best .”

“Oh no.” Nora peels away from our grip and runs to Nathalie with her palm outstretched. Addie chokes and takes a step toward her daughter, but I stop her and pull her against my side. “Let this play out,” I whisper.

I want Nora to be comfortable around my friends, and if Addie stops her from holding them accountable to the swearing rule, it may make her nervous to be herself.

Nora pops a hip, and the bright blue tuu-tuu of her dress sways.

“Why is she holding her hand out?” Maren asks, sipping on a Diet Coke.

“You swore,” Nora chastises. Nathalie sputters, and Deon coughs to hide his laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Nathalie says, but Nora only wiggles her fingers.

I laugh outright, and Addie elbows my side. “That’s our girl,” I say to Addie, and our eyes both bulge when the words register. “Your girl,” I amend.

Embarrassment floods my cheeks. I have no claim over Nora or Addie, even if they’re slowly beginning to mean something to me.

“You have to pay,” Nora demands, “Decy said it costs a hundred dollars to swear.”

Excuse me?

“Decy?” Sawyer screams.

“A hundred dollars?!” Nathalie yells.

“I did not tell her that,” I grit out.

“The rule is two dollars for a swear word,” Addie amends.

“Two hundred dollars!” Nora yells even louder.

“For fuck’s sake,” Addie grumbles a few more curse words beneath her breath, then slides into the bench beside Maren.

“Deon, I need some money,” Nathalie mutters in defeat after Nora refuses to back down.

“I didn’t swear,” he says, “Why do I have to pay?”

Nathalie cuts him a glare so sharp, Deon cowers. Jack barks out a laugh, and Deon slides a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet and hands it to Nathalie. He leans in to kiss her cheek, and Nathalie rolls her eyes, but blushes.

Nora patiently waits for the money, and when it’s in her hand, she yells, “I’m going to meet the princesses!” She runs over to her mom, who looks like she’s seen a ghost. “Mommy, look! I have enough now!”

“That’s wonderful, baby.”

Addie’s voice cracks, and the table quiets. Nora is oblivious to the awkward silence, admiring the bill.

“Can I get ice cream now?” she asks.

“Let’s go,” Sawyer says, corralling Nora toward the counter to order. She gives the rest of the table a pointed look.

“Yes! Ice cream!” Henry cheers. “What kind are you going to get?” he asks Nora.

“Cookie dough.”

“That’s my favorite,” he says, taking her hand. “My wife—Mrs. Sawyer—makes the best cookies in the world.”

I can’t hear the rest of the conversation, but Jack nods at me before dragging Maren away, though she looks like she wants to eavesdrop.

Addie watches Nora with hesitant eyes, but when her laughter echoes through the air, she relaxes. Hazel eyes meet mine, and they’re tired.

I cover her hand with my own. “What’s wrong?”

“She wants to go to Florida so badly,” Addie whispers, “Saving every dollar bill I give her, but we can’t afford it. Not the trip Nora deserves.”

For a moment, I don’t know what to say.

It cuts Addie to the core, she can’t give Nora what she wants. It’s written all over her face. It’s exactly what makes her an incredible mother.

“It makes me feel like I’m a bad mom that I can’t take her,” she continues, tears brimming in her eyes. She sniffles and rubs away the tears. “Sorry. I’m bringing down the fun.”

“I know it may feel that way, but it’s so far from the truth.” I look over to Nora, who is pulling at Deon’s shirt to get his attention, “She looks at you like you hung the moon.”

Addie shifts to look over my shoulder, and whatever she sees makes her smile, then she rolls her eyes. “Thank you,” she says, “for listening. Again.” She lets out an anxious laugh. “I don’t mean to keep dumping all my crap on you.”

“I can carry it,” I say quickly. “All your crap.”

“I’ve got a lot.” She lifts her bag into the air. “I’m a hoarder.”

“What kind of ice cream do you want?” Nathalie screams.

I turn to Addie. “What would you like?”

“Do they have snow cones? The one with the gum ball at the bottom?”

When I’m done yelling our orders, I turn to Addie. “Didn’t peg you for a snow cone kind of girl.”

“I’m lactose intolerant, and I didn’t take Lact-aid before we left.” She grimaces, and I let the topic drop to fiddle with the strap of her leather bag. “What kind of ice cream do you like?”

“Vanilla, with every topping you can imagine. I call it garbage ice cream.” There’s a pause, so I add, “I’ve also been reading the list of stories you sent me.”

The color in her cheeks drains. “I didn’t think you would read them.”

“You underestimate me.” I lean in close. “So…do you often imagine falling in love with famous pop stars because I’m sensing a theme.”

Her mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water, but she’s saved from response when my friends return, and Sawyer hands her a snow cone. She digs in, and I lift a brow, waiting for her response to my questioning.

She points at her full mouth and shrugs.

Nora sits at the table with a wicked smile and a massive tower of ice cream covered in rainbow sprinkles. I survey the suspects. Which one of them gave her two scoops?

“Maren got me two scoops and sprinkles!” Nora yells.

That was an easy investigation.

“We said one scoop,” I say, glaring at Maren.

Maren sits beside Nora, unfazed by my disappointment.

“Maren said ‘I don’t have to listen to Decy’ and got two scoops. I tried to tell her it was against the rules,” Nora garbles, mouth full of ice cream.

Addie and I look at Maren. “She cheered and said ‘No rules!’”

“Sounds like my daughter,” Addie sighs, “You can have the ice cream,”—Nora and Maren cheer—“if you eat all of your zucchini for dinner.”

Nora sticks her tongue out in disgust.

“Oh, I love zucchini!” Jack says, “Grows great in the greenhouse.”

There’s a pause where Nora inspects Jack for any potential lies, finds nothing, then turns back to Addie.

“I’ll eat the zucchini,” Nora mumbles, then takes a massive bite of ice cream.

Addie shifts to mouth, Thank you, to Jack from behind Nora’s back.

He winks, and as everyone eats their ice cream, Nora tells them about summer camp, and our Olive Garden date. Everyone ‘oh’s’ and ‘ah’s’ as she tells her stories, and I watch, as Nora wraps every one of my friends around her small finger.

The same way she did with me.