Page 22 of Quarterback Crush
He gave me his jacket to put on, my jacket doing little to shield me from the cool evening air. I hugged it around me, the scent of it like being wrapped in his arms. I was dying to ask why we’d come to an isolated spot when it contradicted the whole point of fake dating.
Oliver opened the bag of candy and popped it on the table, blowing out a heavy sigh. “It gets a lot, you know.” There was the faintest crack in his voice. “Football, the championship title, Sav and the whole social media circus. I’m over it.”
Surprised by the sudden mood change, I sensed this was not a casual conversation but a baring of his soul to me. My immediate response was to be positive. “You are hugely popular, you know,” I said, “your own hashtag and all.”
“It means nothing,” he said, shrugging as if he had the whole wretched weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Well, being the star quarterback and getting the team to the semifinal isn’t nothing,” I said, conjuring up as much joy as I could muster. “That’s pretty dang amazing, you know.”
Oliver’s perfect features distorted into a sneer as if he was unwilling to believe it. My heart started to beat with force, trying to break out of its rib cage. There was an incredible desire to take Oliver in my arms and soothe and comfort and make it all better.
A real girlfriend would do that, but that wasn’t what I was.
“Hey, what’s your favorite color?” I picked up the bag, plucked out an orange candy and held it up. I needed to lighten the moment.
“Mine too,” Oliver said, his smile returning.
I popped it into my mouth. “Second?” I delved into the bag again, bringing out a green one.
“Hey, same!” Oliver stole it from me and popped it in his mouth.
Relieved to see his smile back, I searched the bag for another green one. Holding it up, I teased him by holding it higher, and before he could snatch it from me, I tossed it and caught it in my mouth.
His eyes widened in surprise and I smirked and grabbed another one and tossed it up, making him lean forward to catch it in his mouth. Oliver carried it on, throwing one up so we competed for our favorite candy. It was fun and silly but he was laughing and that was all that mattered. We bumped noses and smacked faces as we fought for each one. Until we collided over a red M&M. I leaned forward to reach it first, but Oliver knocked me and the piece of candy fell onto the table—and the silliness stopped.
Oliver straightened, his eyes turning upward and his laugh sounding nervous. “Sorry the stars and moon aren’t out tonight.”
“I don’t think that’s your fault,” I said with a light smile.
“Well, just know, if I had any kind of control, I’d have had a full moon shining over there,”—he pointed off to the horizon—“and the stars would be, you know, up there twinkling too.” The softness of his words robbed me of breath, and it would have been easy to take things out of context, to think the words were meant for me. But it wasn’t the case.
“Twinkle twinkle little star,” I jokingly sang the nursery rhyme.
“How I wonder what you are,” Oliver finished, more tuneful than me.
“I didn’t know you were so...” I stopped myself suddenly, swallowing back the word about to recklessly roll off my tongue.Romantic.This date was not about romance, not in the slightest.
Oliver’s eyes narrowed at my unfinished sentence. “You didn’t know I was so...?”
“Um, so...so into astronomy,” I said, my improvisation lame, “or nursery rhymes.”
“You think I’m just all about football?” Oliver said with genuine curiosity.
“Well, you did get Player of the Year, didn’t you? And everyone says you’ve got a bunch of scholarships on offer?”
Oliver nodded but he didn’t say anything, his eyes drawn back to the vast sky, dark and empty, almost like he was contemplating the mysteries of the universe.
“So...” I paused, wondering if I was overstepping the fake girlfriend role, “uh, so tell me more about Oliver Blackwell, not the quarterback or half of hashtag Olivannah but the one who likes orange and green M&Ms.”
Oliver’s gaze roamed my face, and I worried that I’d totally violated the fake dating rules.
“Sorry,” I corrected, “I don’t mean to...”
“Oliver Blackwell...” He cleared his throat. “Oliver Blackwell likes...” He turned to me, eyes dull, voice barely audible. “I’m not sure. I like football, but I don’t want it to be my whole life. But it is my whole life. Dad wants me to play college football because none of my brothers did. I’m his last hope. I’m Coach Gregor’s last hope too, he wants a championship title before he retires. My Mom is mad that I broke up with Savannah because she thinks we’re the perfect couple. But it hadn’t been good, not for a while.” He fidgeted, pulling on his fingers and I leaned forward to take his hand in mine.
“But that didn’t answer the question—what does Oliver Blackwell like?” I said gently.
Oliver released a breath and took a moment. “I like the Green Bay Packers and wearing old sweatpants. I like listening to true crime podcasts and cooking and I make my own protein balls.”
