Chapter 6

Sam Hummel hasn’t bothered me in weeks. I don’t know why, but I guess he felt bad about my hand. I don’t think he wanted to hurt me, well, not physically anyway.

Sam gave me a look, but walked pass me without a word. It was a Friday. Clay had a game and I was gonna go and watch him play.

It’s October and we met in late August. Things were great for the first few weeks, but recently he’s had to practice extra and work out more.

I can totally handle it though. Football makes him happy and he needs good things in his life.

Plus, as superficial as this sounds, he keeps getting sexier and sexier. He’s put on a lot of muscle and a bit of weight, but I don’t mind. I like it.

Out of his group of friends he's the largest. He’s a lineman and I guess the bigger he gets the better. It might be wrong of me to want his season to hurry up and be over, but I’m tired of not seeing him.

I wore a sweater and cargo pants. I was also wearing my favorite pair of Converse sneakers. I was really close to the field.

Number 55. I had to find number 55. I could see him immediately. I smiled. He was looking in the stands, more towards the top, but then he saw me and waved. I waved back.

He put on his helmet. Something about football gear is really…it’s just, it’s just really hot. I love the red jersey and white tights…tights? Are they called tights? I had no clue. All I knew was that they looked good.

The game was great, well, Clay was great. I don’t know if…you know what? I don’t think I understood much of anything that happened. I saw Clay tackle people and St. Mark’s won, so I guess it was good.

I waited for a bit in the stands. I wanted to see Clay. I usually waited after. It was cold. I zipped up my jacket and sat down again. I had been standing.

I saw him. I ran down the steps and up to him. He smiled and I smiled back. He grabbed my hand and we went to his truck.

“You did great.” I must’ve said a hundred times.

“You really think so?” He asked. I smiled. He looked over at me.

“Of course I do!” He laughed. “You look good in your uniform too.” He blushed. It was the first time I think I ever saw him blush before. “You don’t have to blush.” I said.

“I’m not blushing.” He said, with a blush clearly resting upon his cheeks. I don’t see why he was so defensive. It was okay to blush.

“Yeah, you are.” I laughed.

“I’m not fucking blushing.” Yikes! I shrunk into myself. He yelled at me for no reason. I was suddenly afraid I made him angry.

“I…I’m sorry.” I said. He sighed.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” He said. I didn’t know what to say. “Hey, listen. Why don’t we go get something to eat?”

“Yeah, o…okay.”