The Hard Count(105)

“How’d your interview go?” he asks.

I inhale quietly, my eyes studying the look of his hands as I think about his question.

“The dean…he liked me,” I say.

“Of course he did,” Nico says, his fingers still working around each of mine, his eyes low, too.

“I’m pretty sure they’re going to offer me a spot,” I say.

I feel Nico nod, and I know he’s smiling. My eyes close, and I let myself feel his touch. Prestige is all I’ve wanted for so long. I’ve put in hours of my life, logged film in the dark, lost sleep listening to sound—my father had football, and I had this. But now it just seems so empty, my heart…it doesn’t want it quite like it did.

And I think I know why.

“I’m going to go to Southern Cal, though,” I say, and I feel Nico’s fingers freeze against mine instantly. My heart doesn’t pound, and my stomach doesn’t sink. Instead…everything suddenly feels even. My lungs grow as I inhale and open my eyes, my mouth curving into a smile.

My mom said I would know. She said I would be able to choose what I really wanted when I really had to. I want to study film, but I don’t need to do it at Prestige. I want to be near Nico. I want to see my brother play for San Diego, which is where he thinks he’s going to go. I want to be near the boys that I love with all my heart, and I don’t want to give them up because my plan has always been this one solitary thing.

“True story?” Nico asks, and I look up, laughing when my eyes meet his. His smile is crooked, and I move my hands back to his chest, shaking him.

“Oh my God, do not quote Noah. You’re smarter than that,” I say.

Nico bends down and meets my eyes, his wide and still waiting.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes, true story. Yes, I want to go to USC. And not just for you. For me, because of Noah, and because that’s what’s right.”

“But mostly me, right?” he says, his eyes hazing.

I push him, and he grabs me and pulls me in to kiss him.

I don’t answer, because I’ve learned what pressure can do to people, and saying I’m making a choice mostly for him is pressure that both he and I don’t need. But my heart feels stronger having made my choice. My head feels clear, and there’s a renewed energy in my step. I’m pretty sure I know what that is, but I won’t label it. I’m just going to enjoy it while it’s here.

There’s a pounding on the door, so I step up to kiss him one last time, letting his fingers slip free of mine as he jogs to the door, the sound of his cleats clicking on the concrete.

“All of West End is here to see you, you know,” I say.

“I know,” he says.

“Hey, Nico?” I stop him as he catches the door in his hand.

“Whose house is this?” I ask.

His lip quirks up.

“Hoorah!” he whispers.

The door falls closed behind him, and I sit back in the metal folding chair and simply breathe. We do things in life to make others happy. We make sacrifices because that feeling—the one I once thought was altruism, but have since learned is just love—it makes us feel good. We give, but it’s never selfless. Nico has given so much. He’s lost more than his share, and he’s sacrificed beyond what is right.

Tonight—tonight the universe gives back.

It’s not just customary.

It’s tradition.





24





“No, listen to me—this is the plan!”

I bring Sasha in close, putting my arm over his shoulder. Jacob and Thomas step in close, too.

The lights are going to shut off soon, and we all have to get home. Momma got me a new bike, so I can ride home fast with Thomas and Jacob. We have time for one more play, but it has to work. This is the only chance we have.

The sixth-grade boys always win. It really isn’t fair that we divide teams by age. We’re only ten, and they’re so much taller than us. But my uncle says that the most important muscle you use in football is the one in your head. He says anyone can beat anyone if they just do that one right thing.

“Sasha, you know how I always have Thomas snap after green sixteen? This time, he’s going to hold it, and I’m going to wait a tick before I say hike,” I say.

“Nico, there’s no refs out here. That hard count shit you see on TV doesn’t work here, dude. Christian is just going to flatten Thomas’s ass faster and knock you out. Don’t give them that extra second,” Sasha says.

I shake him with my hand on his back, and he flings my arm away.

“Listen, no…really. This will work, I swear. They won’t be ready. It’s like…it’s like tripping them. Just, come on—try it just this one time. If it doesn’t work, I swear to you guys we don’t ever have to run this play again.”

Sasha rolls his eyes and sighs, but pushes his hand into the center.

“Fine, whatever. Game’s over anyhow,” he says.

I smile and bite the tip of my tongue. I can’t explain why, but I have this feeling—like I already know what’s going to happen. Sasha is going to feel so stupid when I’m right.

I slap my hand on his, and Thomas and Jacob follow.

“Break!” we all shout, jogging to our positions on the line.