Page 19 of The False Start (Off the Bench)

Chapter Thirteen

LILA

T he rest of the week flies by. Cal and I are able to resume our easy friendship, even if it’s a bit more tentative than before, and thanks to Colton’s client, work has been going smoothly.

I should’ve known karma would send me a curveball.

Dennis

Hey babe, we have a company party next Tuesday.

Okay

This is really the first thing he says after we haven’t spoken since he was here?

I should be surprised, but I’m not. Just disappointed, once again.

How do I get out of going? The last thing I want to do is be paraded out in front of his colleagues.

Especially with how he spoke to me this past weekend.

Dennis

I have a plus one if you can come up for a few days.

I don’t know if I can.

Please babe, I’m sorry for what I said, you know I didn’t mean it. But I really need you here.

You’ve always been the one I can count on.

Thanks for that guilt trip. But he’s not wrong. His parents aren’t in the picture anymore, and it has always been the two of us against the world. I can do this one thing for him. And maybe we can work it out while I’m there. I hastily check my calendar.

I think I can make it.

Dennis

It’s formal, I’ll get you a dress. Go ahead and use my points for the flight.

Thanks.

Looking forward to it.

Love you babe.

I close my eyes and breathe, willing myself to be excited. It’s not anything I haven’t done before, and sometimes the events are even fun. Not quite as fun as those I’ve gone to with Katie, but it’s close.

I pull up my United app and scan through the flights. I hesitate before booking the Monday morning flight. Sunday is suddenly off limits according to some small part of my mind, and I don’t want to have to share it with Dennis. Not when they belong to someone else.

Just booked a Monday morning flight, I’ll fwd you the email confirmation.

Dennis

Sounds good, I’ll see you then.

It’s only a few moments before my phone pings again.

Katie

Hey, are you busy Sunday?

No, but the guys are playing if you want to watch

Cool

***

Twenty minutes later, another text appears.

Cal

Hey, do you want to come to the game on Sunday?

Like in person?

Yeah

Definitely!

Great, I have a ticket for you.

How much do I owe you for it?

Don’t worry about it, I had an extra.

You don’t have to do that!

I have one for Katie too.

Okay cool, thanks!

I’ll send them over now.

An email notification pops up on my phone screen. I click in, looking at the tickets he just sent over, and my jaw drops.

Cal!

These are in a suite.

Cal

Yep! There’ll be food so come hungry and have fun!

I can’t accept these, it’s too much!

I told you I had extra tickets. It’ll make me happy to see them go to someone who will enjoy the game and not just the bar.

Alright, if you’re sure . . .

I’m sure.

I switch back to my messages with Katie.

Did you know Cal got us box seats?

Katie

WHAT?

Yeah, I know! He said they were extra?

Yeah okay.

Open bar!

Yeah, and think of the field view!

It’ll be fun!

I’ve never been in a box at Soldier Field, and to say I’m excited would be an understatement.

This game is a big one, a divisional rivalry against Green Bay, and occasionally a game like this draws various celebrities who grew up in the Midwest, not to mention the famous WAGs of the players of both teams.

I scroll through outfit inspo on Pinterest for the rest of the evening, each photo contradicting the one prior, and fall asleep with my phone clutched in my hand.

On Sunday morning, I’m wide awake before my alarm has a chance to go off and hop out of bed, my excitement rivaling a small child on Christmas morning.

I lay out my outfit over the covers, wanting to see it all together, and smile.

The vintage Avalanche sweatshirt is the perfect choice for today’s game.

I’m stepping out of the shower when my phone pings across the room. It’s a delivery notification. Odd since I didn’t order anything and it’s a Sunday, but I throw on an old pair of sweats and run down to check.

“Miss Lila, another special delivery for you this mornin’,” calls Maureen from her spot at the front desk.

“What is it?”

She holds up a silver Avalanche jersey, a navy ‘85’ emblazoned across the back .

“That handsome man dropped it off just a few minutes ago,” she says with a smug smile.

“The same one from the flowers?”

“So, you do know him.”

“Of course, I know him.” I laugh. “We’re just friends.”

“Oh, honey, that man is not just friends material.”

I shrug noncommittally and take the jersey from her outstretched hands.

“Have fun today,” she calls to me with a wink as I head back to my apartment. I let her see the eye roll that follows.

“Thanks, Maureen!”

Well, a jersey certainly changes things.

Things being my outfit. I can’t not wear it if he brought it over here.

Katie will probably be wearing a jersey too, along with hundreds of other people at the stadium.

It’s not like a statement or anything if I wear it.

And I’d much rather wear a jersey anyway; I just didn’t have one before now.

I head straight to my closet, flipping through hangers like I’m in a reality show.

It’s chilly but not cold, so I pull out a long-sleeved white bodysuit and pair it with jeans, tucking the oversized jersey in at the waist and picking out my favorite pair of heeled booties.

I’m bouncing around my apartment, hair and makeup done, just waiting until ten when I can meet Katie and head over to the stadium. We’re meeting up with Maggie, Theo’s younger sister, at the game. I’ve only met her once, but she’s very similar to Theo, just less flirty, at least with me.

I’m staring at my reflection and second guessing the jersey.

It’s almost too . . . intimate. I know hundreds of people have worn Cal’s jersey, but they all bought their own.

He gave this one to me. It’s his. What does it say about us if I wear it in public?

Is it a sign we’re something more than friends, or can friends wear each other’s jerseys if they’re professional athletes?

I groan. It’ll be fine. Dennis isn’t coming, and he’s really the only one who would make a fuss. And with other actual famous people in the crowd, any reporters will assume I’m just a random guest, maybe someone’s sister. After my small mental breakdown, Katie’s name pops up on my phone.

Katie

3 min away

I take one last look in the mirror, fluffing my hair out for good measure.

There’s no time to change now even if I wanted to.

I grab my smallest purse, praying the security guards will be nice today—too many of my friends in grad school have lost bags to the Soldier Field security team—and head to meet the Uber.

Katie gives me an appraising look as we leave the car and walk to the stadium.

“What?” I ask, self-conscious.

“The jersey looks good on you.”

I roll my eyes, since she’s wearing a vintage jacket. “He dropped it off this morning.”

“He’ll be happy you’re wearing it.”

I don’t have time to contemplate what that means as we’re whisked through security and up to the box.

Maggie greets us with hugs and vodka seltzers when we finally get up to the suite. Seeing that she’s also wearing a jersey puts me at ease about my own outfit decision.

“I’m so glad you guys made it,” she squeals. “Black cherry or peach?” Katie claims the peach.

“Thanks.” We all toast our drinks. “This is so cool,” I say after a sip. I step further into the box and try to keep my cool. There are tureens of Italian beef, Chicago hotdog fixings, and mac ’n’ cheese piled high, a full bar stocked along the side, and a large platter of cookies and brownies.

Maggie shrugs.

“So, Maggie, what have you been up to? It’s been, what, two years?

” The last time I saw Maggie was at a hip-hop concert Katie brought me to.

She’d been fresh out of college at UCLA and figuring out what was next in her life, which at the time, consisted of traveling and partying a little too hard, according to Theo.

“I landed a job with Chanel! I’m on their web design team.”

“That’s great. Congratulations.” Katie hugs her.

“No, what’s really awesome is the discount,” Maggie says with a sly grin. “Forty percent if you can believe it.” I gasp.

“I love silver hardware,” mentions Katie seriously. “Gold for Lila over here.”

Maggie nods. “You got it, ladies.”

Just then the “Star Spangled Banner” starts, and the stadium goes silent as a local winner of a recent talent show sings his heart out. Cheers and applause erupt as he holds out the last note, and then we all turn to grab our seats as the game starts.

Today’s game is packed, and the crowd is divided and wild.

Each play is met with screams of celebration and jeers from the fans of both teams. I cheer with the best of them, screaming with delight alongside Maggie and Katie as Theo makes catch after catch carrying the team down the field.

I can’t help as my eyes are drawn during each offensive play to number eighty-five, the one that matches the one on my own back. Cal’s number.

I can’t help but peer into the boxes around us, the two to our right belonging to other players on the team.

In our neighboring box, three gorgeous women sit side by side in the front row.

They’re the kind of pretty you don’t think exists in real life because the only way to look that perfect is through Photoshop and Facetune filters.

This is proof that some people really are God’s favorite.

The girl nearest me has a rock on her left hand that would blind the International Space Station.

“Who is that?” I ask Maggie, trying to point nonchalantly.

“Bridget Evers, she’s engaged to the other wide receiver. She played division-one volleyball at UCLA and landed on the cover of Sports Illustrated last year, and then he popped the question at the opening game of the season.”

A model and a division-one athlete.