𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧' 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 ─────⋆⋅★𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘺

𝟑𝟗. 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬

The night was alive with the soft, gentle buzz of North Carolina crickets as Drew pulled the truck up beside a quiet park nestled in his hometown. The town lay still and shadowed beneath a silvery moon, and the golden glow from the truck's headlights pooled in front of them, illuminating the worn path to an old high school football field. They'd spent the evening winding through the familiar haunts of Drew's youth—a hole-in-the-wall diner where everyone knew his name, an abandoned quarry by the lake, a stretch of old highway that he and his friends had used for late-night drag races back in the day. Drew had been sharing pieces of his past all evening, letting her into this world with a confidence that made it feel like he'd saved it just for her.

"Last stop," Drew murmured, shutting off the truck. He stepped out and offered her his hand, and she took it, her heart fluttering with an eagerness she couldn't quite explain. The quietness around them was different here, thicker, as if the night itself wanted to hear Drew's stories.

The field, framed by towering pines and bathed in the soft, ghostly lights of the stadium, looked untouched by time. Drew led her to the fifty-yard line, glancing back at her with that boyish smirk he'd worn all night. She watched as he took it all in—the weathered bleachers, the scoreboard, and the goalposts standing tall against the night sky. He was gazing at it with nostalgia, and Suki could see he was half-lost in his memories.

"Spent half my life out here," he said, his voice low and reverent. "Most Friday nights were for games, Saturday nights for sneaking back in after hours. This field probably knows me better than anyone."

Suki let her gaze roam the field, feeling its quiet weight, sensing the importance it held for him. She could imagine Drew younger, lighter, filled with ambition. And for a moment, she was both envious and charmed by it.

"It's strange," she said, slipping her hands into her pockets, "seeing you in all these places that make you who you are."

Drew chuckled, his eyes twinkling in the dim light. "Well, it's about time you saw this side of me."

They were close now, close enough that she could smell the faint mix of his cologne and pine. He held her gaze with a warmth that made her stomach flip, as if he was peeling back a layer of his heart just for her.

Drew held her hand as they crossed the fifty-yard line, tugging her with an eager grin as if he had a secret he was desperate to share. With a conspiratorial glance over his shoulder, he whispered, "C'mon, Suki. Let's make it official." He stepped onto the pitch, gesturing for her to follow. The whole stadium around them felt bathed in an ethereal, almost nostalgic glow from the overhead lights, casting everything in a dreamlike state.

She followed him, her steps soft against the dewy grass, feeling oddly at home yet like an outsider at the same time. This was Drew's turf, a place he'd spent so many formative years, and she'd never stepped foot here before. It was as if she were walking into his memories, a place filled with all the pieces that made him who he was now. It was thrilling, and a little surreal.

"Of course I fell in love with the quarterback," she murmured, a smile tugging at her lips as she looked up at him, teasing but affectionate.

Drew laughed, his face lighting up with a playful grin. "And I had to go and fall in love with the cheerleader. Must've been fate, right?"

Suki raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "Oh, no. Not a chance. I was nowhere near being a cheerleader, trust me." She glanced down, her smile a little sad around the edges. "I was... well, I was always kind of the outsider. Too many late days, too many missed school dances. I was the girl who slipped out of the back of the classroom, invisible most of the time."

Drew tilted his head, his eyes searching her face with curiosity. "So where did you learn to dance, then? I mean, I've seen you—graceful as anything. Like you've been dancing your whole life, it's like watching you breathing when you sleep. You move like you were born for the stage."