That Stupid Little L-Word:

Chapter Thirty Two:

Blue-Eyes leans over and brushes his lips against my cheek. "Do you want me to help you to the door?" he asks as I open the passenger side door and prepare to get out. I shove Cereal under my arm and clutch my tiny box to my chest. My cast bangs against the side of the door as I climb out.

"No, no," I shoot him a smile, "I'm fine." 

His expression clouds with worry, and the face he makes kind of reminds me of a kid who is sitting on a giant pile of ants but doesn't know it yet. He sits back in his seat and stares at me. I dismiss his concern with a wink, "See you tomorrow."

"Oh!" his exclamation makes me jump, and he leans over so I can completely see his face again. His lips are twisted into a wide grin, "There's a football game tonight. Because of my arm, I can't play, but I still get into the game for free. I wanted to see if you wanted to go with me."

It takes all my will power not to grimace. I'm not really the sporty type, and the last football game that I went to bored me to tears. "Sure," I press my lips into a firm line, "I'd love to. Let me double check with my mom though." 

He nods and then winks, "Love you. See you later, Alice." 

I confirm my love for him and then wobble toward the house, my crutches almost disappearing within the sand-coated dirt. My mother hovers around the front door. When I reach her, she waves to Blue-Eyes as he starts to pull away. "He wants to take me to a football game," I say as we enter the house. 

My mother snorts, "You? A football game?" 

I sigh, "I know. It's not exactly ideal." 

"So you told him no, then?" Her eyebrows arch in surprise, and she folds her arms across her chest, eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you feeling alright? I never thought you'd turn down a date with that boy." 

"I didn't," I scowl at her. I slink my way toward the staircase and sit down on the bottom step. "I told him I'd ask you about it, but I'd love to go." 

My mother snickers, "And you want me to be the bad guy and say no?" 

I remain quiet. I'm not quite sure how to answer her yet. While I hated the idea of being surrounded by hormonal, screaming teenagers and being suffocated by the intense Florida heat, I knew that football was a big part of Blue-Eye's existence, and that it would mean a lot if I was there for him. I want to be there for him. But I also don't want crowds of sweaty teenagers rubbing against me as they cheer for the home team. 

She eyes me for a little while as I squirm on the staircase, refusing to meet her gaze. "I think you should go," I glance at her, shocked, and a little disappointed, "I think it will be good for you to go to a game down here. Football is really important down here in the south." 

I roll my eyes, "Mom." 

"Do you need any money? What about tickets?" She claps her hands together and grins widely, "What about your outfit? You have to look cute. Do you have anything cute in your school colors?" 

"I'll figure it out," I grumble as I climb to my feet. My fingers curl around the banister for support as I limp my way up the staircase toward my bedroom. Most football games started around six, so I had about an hour or two to get ready. I begin to skim through different outfit ideas; she was right, I had to look cute, and supportive too. 

As I reached my bedroom, the thunderous sound of my mother bounding up the staircase echos throughout the house, and rips me from my mental closet. I stop and glance over my shoulders, confused. 

"Wait," she presses her lips together as she nears the top and sees that I have indeed waited for her. "I wanted to talk to you about something else, too."