The bleachers were as packed as any high school football game Cadence could ever remember, and as a cheerleader, she had attended more than her fair share. Both the visiting Bulldog fans and the hospitable Tigers had showed up in their respective colors, air horns a’blazing, ready to cheer their teams on to victory. Unfortunately for the Bulldogs, school spirit would only get them so far, and the Tigers had come out to an early lead of 14-0. By the start of the fourth quarter, they had increased their lead to 35-7, and Cadence wanted to give the majority of the credit to the tight end, number 82, Brandon Keen.
“He is so good!” Cadence gushed as Brandon made another reception for a first down. “He’s big, but he’s fast. He’s like… Jason Witten or Travis Kelce.”
Aaron nodded his head in agreement, but Cadence could tell by his expression that he didn’t really know what she was talking about. He had agreed to wear the Tiger Pride sweatshirt she had purchased on his behalf and consented to her brandishing a giant finger, but he had been relatively quiet during most of the game, only clapping politely whenever the Tigers scored or Brandon made a reception. For the most part, he seemed content to watch her watch football.
Plopping back down on the metal bleacher, Cadence asked, “Do you even know what’s happening?”
“Sure,” he shrugged. “Those guys have the ball, and the other guys want it. They want to get it down there, and they want to get it down there,” he continued, pointing at either end of the field.
Cadence rolled her eyes. “You’re a guy. You’re supposed to care about football!”
“Where I come from, this isn’t football,” he reminded her. “It’s all right….” he acquiesced. “I just don’t have a lot of time to watch sports anyway, you know?”
She sighed, knowing full well how true that statement was. “I know. I used to watch football every Sunday with my dad. Now, gosh, I don’t think I even saw the Super Bowl last year.” The wind was whipping through her hair, and she paused to pull it back over her shoulders. “I really need to make time for that. Soon.”
Just as Aaron was about to open his mouth to agree, Brandon caught the ball, broke a tackle, and made his way into the end zone. Cadence jumped up, screaming in excitement, leaving her fiancé on the bench, a look of amusement on his handsome face. It was nice to see her enjoying herself for once.
After the Tigers finished wiping the field with the Bulldogs in a 48-14 victory, the stands began to clear rather quickly. Cadence had scanned the area several times looking for Brandon’s mom, Amanda, but she wasn’t able to find her anywhere. Now, as people began to exit, she looked around again; she still didn’t see her. She did see Brandon, however, and she was fairly certain he knew they were there. After all, she had been cheering at the top of her lungs, sitting near the front center of the bleachers. He was congratulating some of his team members, and though he had not acknowledged their presence, Cadence was curious to see what might happen if she tried to talk to him.
“We should probably just leave him alone,” Aaron cautioned. “If he wants to talk to us, he knows where to find us.”
Cadence stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “But… he’s right there. I just want to tell him good job. I don’t want to kidnap him and force him to come to LIGHTS, Transform, and replace his father.”
“Thought about that much?” Aaron questioned. Seeing her expression, and noticing Brandon did seem to be lingering for no apparent reason, he finally said, “Fine. Go talk to him. I’ll wait here.”
“Really?” she asked, her face lighting up. She didn’t give him time to respond, however, before she was flying down the bleachers, down the ramp, and out toward where a few last players were talking, along with some stray parents and a cheerleader or two.
As she approached, he took a few steps away, away from his friends, and away from her. She slowed for a moment, as if she were trailing a Vampire and needed to determine which way he was going to cut, but Brandon stopped near the benches on the sidelines, his helmet in his hand, sweat dripping from his hair despite the cooler temperatures.
“Hey! What a great game!” she called as she approached. She interlaced her fingers behind her back in an attempt to look nonchalant. “You are an amazing tight end!”
The cautious expression was still on his face, but he cracked a small smile at the compliment. “Thanks,” he muttered. “What are you doing here?”
Cadence pulled to a halt about five feet from him, still giving him space. “Oh, we were in the area, and we wanted to watch you play. Hope you don’t mind. It was a great game.”
Brandon looked around for a moment, clearly uncomfortable, before he said, “Yeah, thanks. We played pretty good.”
“You sure did,” Cadence agreed. “How have you been?”
Shrugging the shoulders of his filthy football uniform, he stared at the ground for a few moments before he finally said, “Fine, I guess.”
“That’s good,” Cadence smiled. He looked uncomfortable, and yet there was something in his expression that seemed to be saying that he wanted her to stay--that he wasn’t really hoping she would walk away. “That was a great catch at the beginning of the fourth, the one that hit your fingertips and bounced into your hand.”
“Yeah, that was pretty cool,” he laughed. “I felt a little bit like Odell Beckham.”
“Beckham?” she practically screeched. “You are not a Giants fan.”
“I didn’t say I was,” he replied defensively. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t catch the ball like him.”
“Whatever. You need to be comparing yourself to someone on a talented team--like Jason Witten,” she jibed crossing her arms across her chest.
“Witten’s pretty good,” Brandon conceded.
“Pretty good? He’s the best! He sticks his arm out, and the other team’s players practically sit down on the field,” Cadence declared adamantly.
