Page 40 of When We Were Us
“Wren used to date my brother.” She snaps her fingers and then looks between the two of us. “But you probably already knew that.” She says to me, “Josie is Jasper’s wife. He plays on the team too.”
It hits me then. Hank's best friend growing up: Jasper Blake. Her look of surprise at meeting me suddenly makes sense. Wrenley isn’t the most common name, especially in a town as small as Timber Forge. I’m currently wishing a hole would open up beneath my feet and swallow me whole. If Hank and Jasper are still best friends after all these years, I can only imagine what he and his wife must think of me.
Trying for nonchalance, I nod and say, “Oh, yeah. I remember Jasper.”
She gives me a tight smile and says, “Yeah, I’ve heard the stories of all the things y’all used to get up to as kids.”
Oh God, kill me now.
I laugh lamely and nod, hoping I’m paranoid and reading too much into her statement.
“Shall we, ladies?” Nat asks and Norah tips her head in the direction of the fields.
I look around as we walk, loving the quiet simplicity of the park at night. Even at my condo back in California, you can pretty much always hear road noise. But out here, it's nothing but crickets, the distant chatterof voices, and the occasional loud laugh coming from the other side of the park.
We’re just about to the small concessions building when I look up to see the backs of four light blue shirts, all with names and numbers on the back.
I jerk my gaze to Finn and her eyes go wide.
“What?” she asks when I grab her shoulder and turn her so I can see her back. Right above the number thirty-five is the nameHAYESprinted in black block letters.
My eyes drop to my shirt and then I grab at the fabric. Moving my body in a little circular dance, I try to see the back of my shirt. I can just make out anESand the edge of the number seven.
“Finnley!” I hiss, pulling her to a stop. “Where did you get this shirt?!”
She blinks at me, and I make a scoffing noise in the back of my throat.
“It’s an extra, like I said.”
“An extra?” I cock a brow at her.
“Well, yeah. We all wear them.” She motions to Hank’s sisters and Josie. All three sisters have the same exact shirt, just with different numbers. Josie’s saysBLAKE,with the number forty-two printed below it.
I roll my eyes at her and lower my voice. “Yes, but minealsohas number seven andyoursis thirty-five.”
“And?” She raises her eyebrows at me like she isn't following.
“Finnley, you know damn well that Hank’s football jersey number in high school was seven and Hudson's baseball jersey number was thirty-five. And I’m guessing Josie’s wearing Blake’s old number too.” I throw my hand in Josie’s direction and then rub my temples with my fingers and thumb.
She waves her hand through the air. “Complete coincidence.”
I cock my head to the side and cross my arms over my chest, pinning her with a look.
“What?”
“Did you spill that coffee on me on purpose?” I ask and point at her. “And don’t lie to me, Jameson. I still remember that your eyebrow twitches when you lie.”
She lets out an exaggerated huff and rolls her eyes. “Ok, yes,” she says. “I did, but only because I thought it would be fun if you wore a shirt too. You’ll fit in with the rest of the girl gang.”
It's my turn to huff out a breath. I ignore her comment about me being a part of the girl gang, because that issonot the point. Even if it does feel nice to be included.
“Well, I can’t go now.”
She drops her head to the side, giving me the same look I just gave her. “Why not?”
“Because!” I yelp, and then turn to look at the retreating forms of all four women in front of us, who are blessedly unaware that Finn and I are currently locked in a battle of wills. I lower my voice again. “Because I can’t just walk into Hank’s softball game with his last name and jersey number on my freaking back.”
“Yes, you can.”
