“The lady knows her football,” Brandon laughed. “That’s good. That oughtta make your boyfriend pretty happy.”
Cadence fought back a snicker. “Um, okay,” she said rolling her eyes and glancing over her shoulder. Aaron was still sitting on the bleacher where she had left him, pretending not to be paying attention, but she knew he was. “He’s more interested in football than football,” she explained, using an exaggerated British accent on the first term.
“Oh, all right then, governor,” Brandon shot back, not to be outdone when it came to cockney accents. “Cheerio then! Bob’s your uncle. Bangers and mash!”
“Are you just stringing together stereotypical British phrases?” Cadence asked, almost doubled over in laughter.
“Pish posh,” he replied, raising his eyebrows. “I’m a regular member of Parliament.”
“No, I don’t think you are,” Cadence responded, shaking her head. “I think you’re a mess! Like your….” She paused, not sure if she should finish the sentence. She didn’t want to offend him; it had just come out.
“Like my dad?” he asked, his expression suddenly becoming much more somber.
Her demeanor changed as well. “Yeah, like your dad.”
Despite the breeze, the air around them suddenly seemed quite heavy. He began to shift his weight, and Cadence was certain he was about to say he had to go. She wasn’t sure what, if anything, she could say to make him stay. She began to try to think of something, a change in subject, a question of some sort. Nothing was coming to mind.
“Hey, Keen! You comin’ to Ralphio’s?” another player yelled from across the field as he approached.
“I don’t know,” Brandon shouted back. He waited for the kid to close the distance before adding, “I’m kinda tired.”
The other boy was taller and lankier. Cadence recognized his number from the field. He hadn’t played much, and his uniform was much cleaner to prove it. “Your girlfriend can come,” he said, looking Cadence up and down, the side of his mouth curling up.
The bile in the back of her throat at the creepiness of his stare prevented Cadence from making an immediate response, and by the time she had the opportunity to do so, Brandon was already speaking. “I don’t know, Chet. She has a term paper due tomorrow. College is a lot harder than high school, bro.”
Cadence wiped the confused expression off of her face immediately as she saw number 63 nodding in agreement. “Right,” she chimed in. “It’s really, really hard.” Chet snickered, and Cadence realized she was dealing with a juvenile. She chose to ignore his immaturity and continued, “But, hey, babe, if you want to go hang out with your friends for a while, I’m game.”
Brandon’s eyebrows raised as if he couldn’t believe she was playing along, and throwing him an ultimatum. “Well, sweet pea, I know how difficult Dr. Erickson’s class is. I would hate to see you fail it--again.”
Cadence cocked her head to the side, an expression of disbelief. “Well, bae, if you hadn’t distracted me so much the last time, perhaps I would have done better.”
“Look, I need to go take a shower, so I hope I see you there,” Chet said, finally wedging his way into the conversation. He was clearly looking at Cadence when he said that last part.
“Fine, we’ll be there,” Brandon agreed, his chin held high in defiance.
“Great, but my… brother will have to come with us,” Cadence countered, her arms crossed.
Brandon crinkled up one side of his face. Chet was walking away now, on his way to the locker room, but he continued the charade. “Perhaps your brother can just sit in the car?”
“Oh, stop!” Cadence said, punching him in the arm. “He’s gone. You can end the charade now.”
“You mean charade?” he asked using the British pronunciation.
Cadence giggled but didn’t respond to the comment. Instead she said, “You are a really good liar! I’m impressed with your BS skills.”
“Thanks,” Brandon said shrugging. “It comes in handy… sometimes.”
“You’re telling me,” Cadence muttered. “Anyway, what is Ralphio’s and how do we get there?”
“It’s a pizza place on Main Street. You can’t miss it. I’ve got to hit the locker room, but I’ll meet you over there in thirty minutes or so, okay? But you’ve got to pretend to be my girlfriend the whole time! Did you see those guys checking you out? And all the cheerleaders will be so jealous….”
“Fine!” Cadence agreed.
“Awesome! Everyone’s going to think I’m dating an older woman.”
Cadence gasped. “How old do you think I am?” she asked, regretting the question as soon as it came out of her mouth. “Don't answer that.”
Brandon began to walk toward the locker room, and Cadence stayed with him. “Oh, no, you don’t look old. But you act old.”
“Mature!” she offered.
“Right. Whatever. I don’t know, like, twenty-three?”
She stopped in her tracks. “I’m only twenty! And just barely that!”
“Really?” he asked. “Hmmm… never would have guessed it. Well, in that case you could be my real girlfriend.” He raised and lowered his eyebrows rapidly several times.
Cadence couldn’t help but laugh. There was so much about Brandon that reminded her of his dad, it was hard to believe the two of them had never met. She knew he was joking, but she still had to try to let him down gently. “Uh, no. Thanks anyway. I’m taken. And you’re too young for me.”
“I’m eighteen,” he reminded her.
“I like older men--much older men. But you are cute. And funny. I’m sure you’ll make a great catch for someone someday. But not me!”
“If you say so,” he said smiling and looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “Your loss.”
Once again, Cadence found herself laughing at Brandon’s comments, but on the inside, she was feeling like maybe it wasn’t her loss after all. In fact, she was starting to think perhaps her loss was finally fading.
