Kiernan and Montana aren't looking for complicated in their Chicago summer, but somehow complicated has found them.
[co-written with @w1ldflow3r]
[extended summary inside]
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Never in my life had I thought of myself as anyone's knight in shining armor. I was, at best, an advisor in the royal court. All tactical nonsense, no actual sword-wielding.
But here I was, gallantly leading Kiernan through a sea of green, navy and gold as she held onto the straps of my backpack, making our way through the stadium lot. Jed had staked out a tailgate spot with a few of his former teammates in the corner of the lot, posted up under an emerald green tent beside the open flatbed of a Dodge Ram. There were already card tables set up with stacks of green solo cups and two open Yeti coolers filled to the brim with Bud Light and White Claws. Former football players got first access to the prime spots in the stadium lot, where it loomed across the street in the early sun.
Tailgating at a place like Notre Dame was an all day affair. Music from everyone's respective spots melded together in the hot morning air, and godspeed to anyone trying to get to their parking spot if they showed up late. Watching a truck trying to pull into a tailgate spot where all of the adjacent tailgates had spilled over into theirs and underclassmen clogged the lot in droves was a special brand of secondhand anxiety.
Seeming to sense we'd reached our destination, Kiernan finally let go of my backpack straps, but inched closer to me as a loud, sloppy pack of frat boys walked by us.
Jed lumbered over to us, dramatically sighing out as he draped an arm around my shoulder, nearly spilling the beer he had in his hands onto my shirt. "Where were you guys? Did you park all the way back in Chicago?"
"We parked at Eck. So, basically, yeah," I let out a hollow chuckle, shimmying out from under his beefy arm so I could slide my backpack off my shoulders. I already needed a drink, and thankfully we were at a place where beer could be part of breakfast.
"So, Em is getting held up with her soccer crew," Jed said, digging his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "She'll be here eventually, I guess."
"She just messaged me," Kiernan added. "I might go meet up with her in a bit, but I suppose I can stick around for now."
She slid me a coy grin, and I returned it. It wasn't like I intended to be flirty, but between the atmosphere, the alcohol, and that little white tennis skirt she wore, it was hard not to.
One of Jed's former teammates, Davis Klein, sauntered up to us and gestured to Kiernan. "No way she was in South Bend with you guys the whole time."
Jed perked up. "No, but that doesn't mean you can-"
"She's Em's friend from work," I cut him off, kneeling down and turning my head down into my backpack as I dug through the ice for a beer.
"Who was under the impression I'd be treated to a good time," Kiernan chirped, sending a comically challenging glance at Davis. "Where is it?"
