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Authors: Linda Kage
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been taken by a pair of squatters, but I ran them off with a meaningful glance to my ticket before sending them my arched-eyebrow teacher stare.
Once settled in with my popcorn in my lap, I pulled my ball cap lower on my head, hoping I’d disguised myself well enough. Going incognito was also part of the fun. Since I’d never dared to do anything my parents had disapproved of when I’d lived at home, I’d never had the thrill of sneaking out.
Here, where it was perfectly fine for me to attend a game that would appall Mallory and Richard Kavanagh, I didn’t really have to sneak. But it was still fun to pretend. Besides, I didn’t want to be recognized as Dr . Kavanagh just now. Students always approached with some kind of assignment question, and right now, I just wanted to be Aspen, spectator of hot men in tight pants—er, I mean, of football. People didn’t tend to recognize me when I was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt with the campus mascot of a Viking on it. So I went with it.
Lifting my hip just enough to pull the roster I’d purchased and rolled up from my back pocket, I unfolded it and immediately checked for you-know-who’s name. He was number twelve.
Twelve became my new favorite number.
The only off-season game, this scrimmage was an exhibition. And boy, was I ready for a show. Delving into my popcorn, I ate handfuls at a time and sucked on my drink, feeling surprisingly young and lighthearted. Mmm, refreshing.
Raised by two university professors who’d had me in their forties, I sometimes felt as if I’d never been allowed a childhood. I’d been expected to rise above the rest; and I usually had. When I’d started school, I’d immediately been stuck in gifted classes. I’d always been younger than all my classmates and yet expected to act as mature as they were, if not more mature because of my IQ. And since no one ever wanted to associate with the freak, genius girl, I’d never had any friends who might’ve taught me how to be a normal kid.
Today seemed like it might be one of those days where I could feel as blithe as I wanted to.
This end of the stadium was shaded perfectly from the afternoon sun, so when a gentle wind blew across my face, it actually chilled me a little. I cuddled deeper into my shirt, curling my shoulders forward to keep in as much body heat as possible, only to jump when a rowdy group of guys in the next section over burst out laughing amongst themselves.
I glanced their way and smiled slightly at how much fun they were having. The perplexing dynamics of friendships had always eluded me, but in a curious way. Just because no one had ever befriended me didn’t mean I hadn’t observed the social cliques over the years, or yearned to be welcomed into one. I watched, and wondered, and envied.
But as I watched them, the shine on my euphoria dimmed, and my shoulders slumped while the loneliness crept in. The rowdy group grew louder as the guys jostled each other and passed friendly insults back and forth, setting up a pecking order of sorts. Honestly, how could friends be so mean to each other and call each other names I wouldn’t pin on my worst enemy, only to smile and laugh as if they’d handed out the ultimate compliment?
God, I wanted someone to call me a dirty name and then sling an arm around me, squeezing me with genuine companionship.
With my next glance at the loud boys, my brow wrinkled with jealous irritation. Did they have to rub in their happiness like that? I knew good and well I was all alone over here without a single—
“Getting to you too, aren’t they?” the man next to me asked as he glanced over and took in my expression.
I blinked and turned my attention to him, startled to find him smiling at me. He appeared to be in his early to mid-thirties with light brown hair and tea-colored eyes to match. Wearing loose blue jeans and a T-shirt supporting the college, he could be anyone.
Rolling his eyes to exaggeration, he tipped his
Once settled in with my popcorn in my lap, I pulled my ball cap lower on my head, hoping I’d disguised myself well enough. Going incognito was also part of the fun. Since I’d never dared to do anything my parents had disapproved of when I’d lived at home, I’d never had the thrill of sneaking out.
Here, where it was perfectly fine for me to attend a game that would appall Mallory and Richard Kavanagh, I didn’t really have to sneak. But it was still fun to pretend. Besides, I didn’t want to be recognized as Dr . Kavanagh just now. Students always approached with some kind of assignment question, and right now, I just wanted to be Aspen, spectator of hot men in tight pants—er, I mean, of football. People didn’t tend to recognize me when I was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt with the campus mascot of a Viking on it. So I went with it.
Lifting my hip just enough to pull the roster I’d purchased and rolled up from my back pocket, I unfolded it and immediately checked for you-know-who’s name. He was number twelve.
Twelve became my new favorite number.
The only off-season game, this scrimmage was an exhibition. And boy, was I ready for a show. Delving into my popcorn, I ate handfuls at a time and sucked on my drink, feeling surprisingly young and lighthearted. Mmm, refreshing.
Raised by two university professors who’d had me in their forties, I sometimes felt as if I’d never been allowed a childhood. I’d been expected to rise above the rest; and I usually had. When I’d started school, I’d immediately been stuck in gifted classes. I’d always been younger than all my classmates and yet expected to act as mature as they were, if not more mature because of my IQ. And since no one ever wanted to associate with the freak, genius girl, I’d never had any friends who might’ve taught me how to be a normal kid.
Today seemed like it might be one of those days where I could feel as blithe as I wanted to.
This end of the stadium was shaded perfectly from the afternoon sun, so when a gentle wind blew across my face, it actually chilled me a little. I cuddled deeper into my shirt, curling my shoulders forward to keep in as much body heat as possible, only to jump when a rowdy group of guys in the next section over burst out laughing amongst themselves.
I glanced their way and smiled slightly at how much fun they were having. The perplexing dynamics of friendships had always eluded me, but in a curious way. Just because no one had ever befriended me didn’t mean I hadn’t observed the social cliques over the years, or yearned to be welcomed into one. I watched, and wondered, and envied.
But as I watched them, the shine on my euphoria dimmed, and my shoulders slumped while the loneliness crept in. The rowdy group grew louder as the guys jostled each other and passed friendly insults back and forth, setting up a pecking order of sorts. Honestly, how could friends be so mean to each other and call each other names I wouldn’t pin on my worst enemy, only to smile and laugh as if they’d handed out the ultimate compliment?
God, I wanted someone to call me a dirty name and then sling an arm around me, squeezing me with genuine companionship.
With my next glance at the loud boys, my brow wrinkled with jealous irritation. Did they have to rub in their happiness like that? I knew good and well I was all alone over here without a single—
“Getting to you too, aren’t they?” the man next to me asked as he glanced over and took in my expression.
I blinked and turned my attention to him, startled to find him smiling at me. He appeared to be in his early to mid-thirties with light brown hair and tea-colored eyes to match. Wearing loose blue jeans and a T-shirt supporting the college, he could be anyone.
Rolling his eyes to exaggeration, he tipped his
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