Page 76 of The Pass Protection
Grabbing the check, Crew stands from the bench, his height towering over the table. He reaches for my hand, which I gladly take, as he pulls me from my seat. His hand never leaves mine. Not as he paid. Not as he leads me out the doors. And not when he walked us down the street to a gelato shop Nina told us about.
Spending time with Crew is effortless, like sliding on my favorite oversized sweatshirt and curling up with my favorite movie. There’s a natural ease to our conversation, a rhythm we’ve quickly fallen into despite the newness of our relationship.
A peace I had long since forgotten settles over me. It’s a peace that has been absent for way too long. I watch Crew animatedly tell story after story, his eyes brightening as my favorite smile stays plastered on his face. There’s never any pressure to fill the silence with conversation. And I take that as a comforting sign.
I’m surprised at how at ease I have felt with Crew. It’s a feeling I’ve felt since the moment we’ve met. There’s safety in Crew’s company, especially wrapped in his muscular arms as he plants soft kisses along my temple.
Crew drives us back to campus, and we park next to my Jeep in the nearly empty parking lot. Leaning over the console, I seek out his lips in the dimly lit cab. The only light filters in from a parking light near our spot.
Before I let things get too heated and we move to the back seat, I pull away. “Thank you for tonight.”
“I’ll follow you back to the apartment.” He winks as I slide down. Shutting the door behind me, I glance over my shoulder as Crew waits for me to leave.
As I drive back to our shared apartment, I smile at the headlights in my mirror. For once, I didn’t feel concerned about the person trailing behind me. Tonight, the man I love is following me home.
And later that night, when the apartment is dark and quiet, I slip into his room and crawl under his sheets. His strong arms pull me close as his nose rubs against my loose hair. Both of us find comfort in each other.
“I love you, Crew.”
He hums, his lips kissing my neck through my hair. “I love you, too, Rebel.”
Me: I’m Batman!
Rebel: Why did I just say that in my head in a dark, raspy voice?
Me: You’re cute ??
Rebel: You and those winks.
Me: What’s wrong with them?
Rebel: They do things to me.
Me: ?? Good luck tonight, Rebel!
One thing I never thought I’d attend in my life is a Halloween-themed intramural basketball game. Today is officially Halloween, and there isn’t a shortage of costumes on campus. Although I’m glad we celebrated Saturday night because there’s no way in hell I’d wear a costume to class. It’s not that I’m not a fun guy, because I am, but it’s absolutely ridiculous to wear the gear as you sit behind a desk all day. I’ve sat next to the Hulk, a female Harry Potter, a police officer, and some kind of Disney princesstoday. It’s weird.
Even though I find dressing up on Halloween dumb, I’m still sitting in a crowded gymnasium dressed as Batman—the things we do when we’re in love.
In love.
I am still basking in the glow of Bret confessing her feelings. The icing on the cake was when she crawled into my bed late last night and whispered those words again. When the warning alarm went off, she curled deeper into my side. We risked getting caught, but it was worth it. Luckily for us, she didn’t need to leave my bed for class until well after the guys and I had gone to campus.
What’s even crazier about this intramural basketball game is not only are the fans wearing costumes, but so are the players. My girlfriend is warming up by jogging up and down the court dressed as Lola Bunny fromSpace Jam, thanks to Macy’s helpful sewing skills. I’ve got to give it to her. At least she found a cartoon character wearing a basketball uniform. One of her teammates is dressed in all green from his socks to his shorts to his long-sleeved fitted tee, which has a giant ‘G’ printed on his chest and an orange beanie on his head. He went as the water bottle version of a popular sports drink.
At least Bret’s team had the right idea finding costumes they could still play in, while the other team took the theme seriously. Players on the other team wear masks, gloves, and capes. How the hell do they think they’re going to play basketball dressed like that?
A girl dressed as Barbie stands at the end of our row and points to her friend halfway down the aluminum bleacher. Everyone scoots across the hard surface to make room for her when there isn’t much room to begin with.
Adjusting my large frame on the bleacher, I lean forward until I rest my elbows on my knees. The announcer taps the microphone before welcoming everyone to the game. A hip-hop song comes overthe speakers as he introduces each player on both teams. When Bret told us she was playing intramural basketball, I thought of some kind of backyard pickup game. This is far from that. It’s almost like the junior varsity league at the collegiate level.
Claps and cheers ring out around me, and it’s nice to be the one in the crowd instead of being cheered for. Adjusting my mask, I ensure it’s secure so my identity is kept safe. Tonight is about Bret, and I don’t want to take the attention away from her. I also don’t want to be busted by her brother if he’s here tonight, too. The last time I could explain, this time might be trickier.
Tracking Bret’s movements, I watch as she stretches her arms, one after the other, as she jokes around with her teammates. Since moving to CTU, I’ve been watching the spark come back to her personality, but there’s nothing like seeing Bret on the court. When she steps foot between those lines, it’s as if she’s transported to paradise. A glow radiates around her as her body relaxes. Her smile is brighter, and her eyes sparkle as she bounces around.
I watch as a referee, who is a paid student, steps up to half-court as the players all take their positions for the jump ball. With the ball tossed in the air, Kyrie, Bret’s teammate, dressed as the sports drink water bottle, taps the ball with his fingertips. Bret slides around the other team and grabs the loose ball. With a few quick dribbles, she moves the ball over the half-court line before launching a rocket of a pass to one of her teammates, who has cut toward the basket.
And just like that, Bret’s team is up. I clap as her team all shares quick high-fives before running back to the opposite side to play defense. As Bret slides her feet in the shuffle, she turns her back to help play defense, and I notice the tiny ball of fur attached to her shorts. I can’t believe she had Macy sew a bunny tail on her costume.
