Page 18

Not that there was anywhere for there to be a concession stand or a crowd big enough to warrant one at swim meets.

But it was obvious from the crowd that showed up here that there was a hierarchy of which sports got attention and swimming was at the bottom.

Maybe that was for the best for me, though, because if the crowds were any bigger for us, I would probably pass out in the pool.

“Well, ‘actual’ is probably a loose term for it,” Ainsley said. “The student council runs it, as a way to raise money for the school. They do it at the soccer, football, and basketball games.”

She wasn’t kidding when she said the stand was being run from the playground.

They had a whole set up on the walkway beside the playground, with people lining up along the wood chips.

Ahead of us, there was a group of girls squished onto the bottom of the slide and taking selfies and a boy leaning against one of the ladders of the play structure as he chatted on the phone.

Without the full crowd around us and standing still, the cool air of the night was starting to settle in over me. I crossed my arms and shivered, wishing I’d worn a warmer shirt.

“Are you cold?” Ainsley asked. She immediately started slipping her leather jacket off her shoulders like she was going to hand it to me and leave her in just her tank top, and I quickly stopped her.

“I’m fine,” I said, laughing a little. She had to be the sweetest person I’d ever met to offer that up so easily to a girl she barely even knew. “So, what options do they have here? I don’t see a sign.”

I glanced around for a chalkboard or something listing what I could get but there was nothing. I guess the stand ran on a “you should know what we offer” model, which was an interesting choice so early into the school year.

“Don’t worry,” Ainsley said, “I’ll order for you.”

I considered pointing out that she probably had no idea what I liked since we barely knew each other, but since I didn’t have any better option, I agreed.

Besides, she came to these games so frequently that she must know what was good.

But once she ordered and handed over the hot chocolate and popcorn she got me, she didn’t exactly make me excited about them.

“This is probably the best thing you’re ever going to taste in your life,” she said, “but be careful. It will either be so hot that it burns your mouth or so cold that it might as well be chocolate milk, and you never know which way it’s going to go.”

I looked warily as I took a sip and realized that her assessment was exactly correct. On the hot matter, that was—it was boiling, and I was pretty sure I burned my tongue.

“It is so hot that I can’t taste it,” I said through a mouthful that I could barely swallow, worried it was going to absolutely eviscerate my throat.

“Oh no, that’s just because it never tastes right,” she said dismissively. She took a sip of her own, made a scrunched-up face, and said, “Okay, yeah, I got the cold one.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t taste right?” I asked. I took off the lid to blow on the drink as we started walking back to the game, hoping it might cool down enough to be drinkable soon. At least even holding it in my hand was enough to warm me up a little.

“They always get those cheap packets of hot chocolate—you know the ones that are like less than a dollar and you need like three of them for it to actually taste like chocolate? But they never buy enough, so they only give each person like half a pack, so it always ends up being water with a hint of chocolate in it.” She smiled and took another sip, then made a humming sound. “But isn’t it delicious?”

Delicious was one word for it, but as I took another sip, I realized that it was actually growing on me a little.

“Where are we going?” I asked Ainsley as she walked straight past the stairs up to our spot again.

She gestured toward the field with her head, since she had popcorn in one hand and what could only loosely be described as hot chocolate in the other. “We’re making a quick stop.”

She continued on immediately, leaving me no time to decide whether I wanted to follow or not.

I looked at the stairs longingly, just wanting to go back up to our spot and not risk getting in trouble for going somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be, which I was sure was what Ainsley was doing.

But how could I leave her alone? Plus, if I went up to the spot, I’d have to sit alone with Imogen, who I wasn’t convinced liked me. I sighed and followed Ainsley.

She hadn’t gotten far ahead, so I caught up with her quickly as she walked along the blue track that divided the bleachers from the field.

We crossed in front of the cheerleaders’ bench, which was empty since the girls were currently performing on the field to the people who hung around during half-time.

“Are we supposed to be over here?” I asked. I followed behind her as closely as I could without walking straight into her. She was clearly in her element right now, but I was terrified of getting called out for being somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be.

“Don’t worry, I do it all the time.” We finally came to a stop as we reached the soccer bench where the team was sitting, drinking water and catching their breath.

I was sure they were going to get mad at us for showing up, but to my surprise, one of the boys yelled Ainsley’s name and cheered.

She blushed and ducked her head a little, but laughed. “Hey guys. Is Sebastian here?”

“Right here.” Sebastian appeared from an opening in the bleachers just behind the guys and came jogging over to us.

In a move that was clearly rehearsed, Ainsley held out her hot chocolate and let him take a swig of it.

He scrunched up his face in disgust but then went back for a second sip, so I guess like Ainsley, he enjoyed the flavor.

He handed the cup back to her then looked at me.

“Brought Nellie along for the tradition?” He asked, the words clearly directed at Ainsley even though he was staring at me .

“The tradition?” I asked anyway.

He grinned. “We’re all a little superstitious.

First game I won at Parkhurst, she brought me a hot chocolate at half time so now we have to do it every time.

” He looked me up and down, and if we hadn’t had an argument about his girlfriend only a couple of hours ago, I might have thought it meant something.

Now, I felt like he was just studying my outfit. “Aren’t you cold?”

So, he really was studying my outfit. Good thing I didn’t read into that, I guess. I was cold, but I hated to admit that I hadn’t dressed properly for the game, so I just raised an eyebrow and said, “I’m not the one in a t-shirt and shorts.”

“Ah, but I’ve got my blood pumping,” he said. He turned away and grabbed something from the bench, returning a moment later. “Here.”

He held his hand out and I stared blankly at the black fabric in it.

I had no idea what it was and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

What would Sebastian Novak be handing me?

It obviously wasn’t something he’d planned to give me since he didn’t know I would be coming down here, but it also didn’t seem to be anything to him based on the way he was handing it over without a second thought.

“Oh, good idea,” Ainsley said. I glanced at her, questions probably written all over my face, and she laughed. “It’s his sweater. You can wear it for the rest of the game so you don’t freeze.”

Sebastian was offering me his sweater? Nope, the words didn’t make any sense in my head, no matter how I reconfigured them.

I blinked at the fabric—now that I knew what it was, I noticed the silver zipper and the hood, so it must have a zip-up—then at Sebastian, who was looking at me neutrally as he held it out, like this meant nothing to him.

Like all of this was just completely normal.

I couldn’t wear Sebastian’s sweater. No matter how cold I was, I couldn’t do that. But everyone was staring at me, waiting for me to take it, and I didn’t have an excuse ready for why I couldn’t possibly do that.

“That’s okay,” I stammered out. “My shirt’s warmer than it looks and I’m used to the?—”

“You’re freezing,” Sebastian interrupted. “I can see the goosebumps on your wrist from here.”

He wasn’t wrong. My arms were covered in goosebumps and I was one step away from shivering, even with the burning hot drink in my hands.

But if I thought playing soccer with Sebastian earlier, where we were almost guaranteed to have privacy, was a bad idea, then what was this?

Some monumentally terrible decision. Tiffany must have been around here somewhere.

I was pretty sure she was a cheerleader, and even if she wasn’t, she would be here to support her boyfriend.

If she recognized this as Sebastian’s sweater, my life would be over.

They would find my body in a gutter somewhere later tonight.

But how could I say no? If we had more time before the end of the break or if it was just me and Sebastian, I probably would have continued arguing.

But all the boys on the bench were staring at me now, and I didn’t want to draw more attention to myself—or my connection with Sebastian—so I took the sweater and kept it draped over my shoulder as Ainsley said goodbye to the boys and headed back up to our spots.

We got there just in time for the whistle to blow, signalling the end of the halftime break.

I left the sweater sitting on my lap, working as a blanket. Somehow, that felt less intimate than actually wearing it.

“Is that Sebastian’s?” Imogen asked curiously.

“Yeah, I grabbed it from the bench,” Ainsley said. “Nora’s freezing.”

“I’m not freezing,” I mumbled, blushing hard and looking down. “And I didn’t need to steal his sweater. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, don’t worry, he only brings those because he knows Ainsley’s going to steal them,” Imogen said.

Her eyes locked on the field again like this conversation was barely interesting to her, which made me feel better.

After the way she had talked about Sebastian earlier, I was worried that she would get upset seeing me holding his sweater and think that I was just here to hit on him like she had implied earlier.

Then again, was she entirely wrong? When I was watching Sebastian on the field, all I could think about was how good he looked in the uniform, even with the sweat dripping down his face, the way his muscles flexed with every step he took.

And as I watched him, it made me think of the kiss and how I’d feel if he kissed me tonight.

Would it be different than at the party? Would it be just as good?

It was wrong for me to be thinking about him at all, but especially when his sister was the one who had invited me to the game and had just told me about how they hadn’t had any friends who didn’t hit on him.

And yet, here I was. But the kiss had happened before I became friends with them, so did it really count in the same way?

I wasn’t sure. But I tried to imagine if I had become friends with somebody who then told me that they had kissed Dean.

I wasn’t sure how I would react to that, but I couldn’t say I’d be happy.

Ainsley nudged me again, looking at the sweater pointedly, and I realized I’d been shivering.

It probably seemed weirder that I was refusing to wear it than it would be if I just put it on, so I took it off my legs and slipped it on.

Ainsley smiled, then held out the tub of popcorn to me.

I took a handful, surprised by how strongly it tasted of fake butter and absurd amounts of salt.

“They can never get the ratios right,” she said as she watched my face, clearly amused. “Isn’t it delicious?”

Much like the hot chocolate, “delicious” was an interesting term for it.

But I took another sip of my drink and another bite of popcorn and realized that actually, I was really enjoying it.

There was something fun about sitting under the bright stadium lights with the sun setting behind us, wearing Sebastian’s sweater, and watching him play while eating crappy food.

When I imagined what my high school years would be like, before I’d been slapped in the face with reality, this was pretty much exactly it.

I guess I just hadn’t imagined that this fantasy would actually come true.