"Chris Woakes could be making his century now and I'm in a car with you. That's just cruel Rick," she says. "Can we pause the dramatics for a second Cas, a ball hasn't even been thrown yet," I say with a laugh. "I just don't get what you could possibly need amidst the cricket world cup with England taking on the reigning world champions," she says. "It'll be quick, I swear," I say. "The whole country is glued to their TV screen or getting drunk at a bar and you're taking me on an errand run," she says dramatically. "It's cricket, I'm willing to bet my life that nothing big is going to happen in the first few overs we miss," I say. "You're a sad little man, you know that," she says with laugh. "I still don't see how you can like cricket more than football," I say. "And I still don't know how I'm friends with someone that doesn't think ODI's are the best thing ever invented," she says. "We're almost there," I say turning down into a full main road. "Where are we?" She asks before her eyes widen, "wait! Are we going to the cricket Rick?"
I continue looking at the road with a smile on my face.
"No way! Are you serious? Rick, tell me!" She says excitedly. "Grab my phone and open up my email and you can see for yourself," I say pointing to my phone standing in the cup holder. "This is insane," she says, "you got box tickets!" "Surprise?" I say with a smile. "I love you, I'm serious!" She says as I park the car.
We enter the grounds and she has the biggest smile plastered on her face. All I can do is watch in complete awe as she takes it all in.
She sits on the edge of her seat throwing her arms in the air when someone goes out. Occasionally letting out a scream when someone gets a boundary.
Then, out of literally nowhere, it's hit me. As the third umpire decides on a potential run out, she has her fingers crossed totally engrossed in willing the decision to swing our way. Time feels like it freezes. Maybe it was the whole crowd holding their breath pending the result, but for me it was because I realized something.
First grade when she won the reward for best painting. Seventh grade when we went to our farewell dance together, me in an ill-fitted button up shirt. Tenth grade when I captained our football team. It all comes back to me.
I'm in love with my best friend.
I'm in love with the girl that had braces. The girl that loved cricket. The girl that loves the Hunger Games. The girl that can recite every lyric to every Beyonce song. I loved her back when light up Sketchers were cool and Wizards of Waverly Place was a thing.
I take a deep breath feeling very overwhelmed with this revelation.
There's no way she feels the same way. I'm just going through a phase, I'll be over it soon. And we can get back to normal, like nothing ever happened. You can do this Rick, just breathe. Avoid eye contact. And most importantly, talk yourself out if this. You can't allow yourself to ruin years of friendship because of some idea you thought of at a cricket match, when bored out of your mind.
The break rolls around after what seems like an eternity.
"That was crazy" she says sitting down as the pitch empties. "So is 250 a good score?" I ask. "You're hopeless, you know that," she says. "250 is good in football," I say with a laugh. "Let's just say, I have full faith in Jofra Archer to bring us a win," she says, "I want to say thank you again for getting these tickets. It's seriously the best thing anyone's ever done for me." "It's been a pleasure watching you jump up and down and shout in anger at everything happening," I say with a laugh. "I'm serious. I know you hate cricket and yet you're sitting here with me. I appreciate it," she says grabbing my hand, "you're the best-est."
The rest of the match finishes with Cas beaming with joy after we came away with a win. We're driving home with her excitedly talking about how Joe Root caught the ball and Jason Roy being amazing.
I'm walking her to her apartment entrance.
"You never have to buy me a Christmas or birthday present ever again," she says as we stop at her door. "Was it really that great?" I ask. "Amazing," she says as I lean against the door frame. "I told myself I wasn't going to tell you, but I realized something today," I say. "You love cricket?" She asks with a laugh. "The opposite maybe," I say with a chuckle, "I don't want to make things between us weird. And I know that there's no going back from this. I think there's something between us, I'm not entirely sure. And if you'd like, we could test things o-"
Before I could finish my sentence she has her hands on my cheek and her lips pressed against mine.
"I don't want to go back from this," she whispers as we break apart. "I wasn't expecting that," I say with a laugh. "I, too, had a realization. You sat through a whole one day international because you knew I'd love it. I don't think there's anyone on planet Earth that would do that for me. You're so much more than my best friend Rick," she says holding my hand. "It's only been 18 years of knowing each other, but I think I love you," I say. "I think I love you too. Patrick Bamford who sat next to me in eighth grade math," she says with a smile. "So are we going to stand out here the whole night or are you going to invite me in?" I ask with a laugh. "I don't usually invite anyone in on the first date," she says with a laugh. "18 years and we've only been on one date?" I ask. "What took you so long?" She says with a smile. "Guess I had to bore myself to death to realize," I say as she unlocks her front door. "So now that we're kinda a thing, I'm going to need you to start loving cricket. It's the boyfriend criteria," she says with a laugh. "I'm going to need you to support anyone other than Tottenham. It's the girlfriend criteria, supporting your boyfriend's team is a plus," I say. "I like where this is going," she says with a smile. "Let's make a conscious decision to not screw it up," I say. "Have you met us?" She asks with a laugh.
I wrap my arms around her shoulder and leave a kiss on her forehead.
