The Big Game

As we wait

on the bleachers

for the game

to start, it’s

an unbelievable feeling

to have

my girl

by my side when

I’m getting ready

to cheer my

best friend.

Feels like

rebirth.

Smells like

her wild orchid perfume

and tastes like

salted pretzels,

popcorn, soda,

Skittles.

I can’t believe this is Walt’s first high school game. He’s
been dreaming of this day since I met him, I say, pouring
Skittles into my mouth.

It’s incredible. A testament of his perseverance. It’s a good

quality to have. We all could use a little more of what

Walt’s got.

Yeah. I guess you’re right, I say, inching closer and
throwing my arm around her.

I really care about you, Noah. Your friendship has meant

the world to me all these years.

She takes a handful

of popcorn,

shoves it

into her mouth,

and chomps

like she didn’t just say that.

Friendship?

I thought

we moved past

the friendzone

when we kissed

for the eightieth time

this morning,

is what I’m thinking.

But I don’t say a word.

Instead, I ride out

the awkwardness,

hold her tight.