Page 14 of Autumn Skies & Pumpkin Pies

“You don’t have to ask me twice. I’d love to go,” she replies, her smile large and the blush returns.

“Well, then I’ll see around school I’m sure and I’ll pick you up Friday at seven,” I tell her, as I extend my phone out to her so she can input her number.

When she hands the phone back to me, she tells me, “See you at seven.” Then she turns around and heads inside her classroom. Warbee has crossed my mind so many times over the years, but I never expected to see her first thing this morning on my first day here. A part of me dreaded seeing her again after all these years. I thought maybe the hurt would still be there. Even though she was right, after some time I saw that what she did was for the best. I would have never made it to the NFL if she hadn’t been strong enough to let me go all those years ago. However, I never expected to practically ask her out on a date within the first ten minutes of being around her again.

One of the first times we hung out together outside of school was Bushels of Fun. The memory of the crisp, autumn day comes back to me.

I was standing with Mase and some of the other guys from the team when I noticed Keefer’s truck pull into the gravel parking lot. My apple cider is forgotten as I watch Warbee climb out of the backseat. The way the sun catches her red hair it almost looks copper. She laughs with Teaganne and Keefer as they head towards the apple orchard. I quickly use an excuse to ditch my friends and find my way to Warbee. “Hey y’all,” I greet them.

“Hey man,” Keefer replies. Warbee tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and she smiles. Teaganne waves.

“So, apple picking?” I ask. I’m searching for any reason to stay here around Warbee.

She nods. “Yeah, for my granny and the bakery. She’s got a ton of recipes that require apples for this time of the year, and these are the best apples in the county.”

“I won’t disagree with you there. Y’all need some more help?” I offer. Silently, I pray she says yes.

Warbee blushes but doesn’t reply before Teaganne does. “Most definitely. You and Warbee can take that side of the orchard. Keefer and I will take this side.” Teaganne points to the directions of the orchards. “We even came prepared,” she adds, as she points to the two red wagons with baskets sitting inside.

“I like your style,” I tell her, as I grab the handle of one of the red wagons.

Teaganne curtsies before winking. “Why thank you, sir,” she replies in her best southern accent. “Y’all don’t have too much fun now.”

Warbee’s cheeks are flaming red by the time we head towards our side of the orchard. The silence isn’t awkward, but I like to hear her talk, so I wrack my brain for something to say. “It’s really awesome that you help your granny with this.”

Her smile is bright and automatic. “I love it. I’d do anything for her. We used to come and pick apples and pumpkins every year together but as she’s gotten older, she has a harder time coming out here. So, now I come and luckily Teaganne and Keefer always come with me.”

“So, do you like to bake?”

Warbee rises to her tiptoes in an attempt to reach an apple, but she’s still too short. Without a second thought I step forward and wrap my hands around her waist and lift her so that she can reach the apple. She squeals in surprise, but grabs the apple. When I place her back on the ground she spins around and swats at my upper arm playfully. “You shouldn’t do that. You could hurt yourself.”

My face scrunches up in confusion. “By picking you up to grab an apple?”

“Hey, it’s possible.” Warbee shrugs as she turns around and starts to make her way down the row of trees, looking up at every possible apple.

“You do realize I take some ridiculously hard hits while playing football, right?” I ask, with a chuckle.

She stops and turns back around to face me, readjusting her glasses. “Yes, which is why you shouldn’t chance any injuries outside of the game. I can just read the headlines now, ‘Strange Warbee Carter inflicts injury on Blue Ridge’s Golden Boy.’”

I laugh. “You’re kidding right?” She shakes her head. “I highly doubt that anyone in this town refers to me as the golden boy.”

“Are you sure about that?” Warbee raises her eyebrows in question.

With a shrug I look away. I hate being seen that way. “It doesn’t make it right. I’m just a guy who likes to play football and I was lucky enough to be pretty decent at it.”

Now, she laughs. “Pretty decent? You’re amazing at it, Rocker.”

“Maybe, but it’s just luck and a lot of hard work and dedication. It doesn’t make me special or the golden boy.”

“It does in their eyes. This town has placed all of their hopes and dreams of a state football championship on you. That can’t be easy to deal with.” Warbee studies me.

“It’s not, but it is what it is. We’ll win when we get there. Now, why did you refer to yourself as strange in that headline?” I ask. My curiosity is at an all-time high now.

Warbee sighs and turns around to continue walking. Just when I think she isn’t going to answer the question she speaks. “It’s how the town sees me.”

“Doubtful,” I reply with a scoff.

“It’s true. I’m too smart for my own good. They’ve never known what to do with me. I’m not like the other girls in town. I don’t do the pageants and big hair with a ton of makeup. I’m just lowkey and away from the spotlight.” I watch as her shoulders sag a little.

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