Chapter Twenty-Seven

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Next Friday, before the game, Carter practically inhaled his lunch and took off to the library without explaining himself to the rest of the team.

Just like he had expected, he found Johnny sitting in his usual corner table, with an open plastic container filled with some kind of pasta salad. Carter pulled the chair in front of him, sitting down with a grin. Johnny's eyes widened slightly in surprise and the fusilli—living with the Santoros had allowed him to expand an entirely new knowledge base—perched on his fork rolled down to fall on the plastic container again.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hanging out with you," Carter stated plainly, like it was obvious.

Johnny raised his eyebrows, but he couldn't quite conceal the little smile that twitched in his lips. "Don't you have an away game today?" He asked.

"Yup. Bus leaves in thirty minutes."

"Shouldn't you be with your team then?" Johnny questioned, slowly.

"I'd rather be here with you," Carter replied. "Got a nearly three hour drive to be huddled up with those idiots."

Johnny's knuckles covered his smile as he rested his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the tabletop.

"Nervous for the game?"

Carter shrugged.

Johnny tilted his head, curiously. "Heard they're good," he mused. Then his lips twisted into a sly smile. "Like, all week long. My dad's been a pile of nerves. You didn't hear it from me though."

Carter laughed quietly. "Guess I'm a little nervous too," he admitted. "It usually doesn't hit me until I'm geared up."

Johnny's eyebrows shot up. "And here I though Carter Parrish didn't get nervous," he teased.

"I do," Carter confessed. "Especially this year that everyone just assumes I'm going to win us the game or something. It all usually goes away at kick-off though."

Johnny trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, in a move that never failed to catch Carter's attention. Somehow, he thought Johnny knew that, and did it on purpose. Just to know that he could, in fact, catch Carter's attention.

"Is your family going to the game?"

"My mom can't make it, but I think the Santoros are all driving there after school," Carter answered. Then, in a more tentative, hopeful tone, he added, "Are you going?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

Johnny smirked. "If it was up to me, I would stay home re-reading A Dance of Dragons, but Lydia's been begging me to drive her to see the game."

"Is she still seeing Brad Wheeler?"

"Oh, no. That's history," Johnny said decisively. "She says she's swearing off boys for the rest of the year."

"Like, school year or twenty-seventeen?"

Johnny rolled his eyes. "Who knows?"

Carter laughed.

The moment was perfect as it was. Just what Carter had intended, when he decided to see Johnny before taking the bus with his team. The last thing in the world he needed was Bobby Gonzalez's thunderous voice calling out his name.

"There you are, Parrish," Scott Meyers exclaimed, slapping his shoulder, as the two seniors approached their table.

With no regard for library policies, Bobby dragged the chair next to Carter with an irking screeching sound and plopped down on top of it. His wolfish grin was directed at Johnny though.

"Johnny boy," he said. "We didn't know you guys were friends." His eyes danced between the two younger boys.

"We have AP Calc together," Carter replied evenly, not quite grasping what was happening.

Bobby snorted, looking up at Scott, who still had his hand pressing down on Carter's shoulder.

"Mingling with the nerdy kids, Parrish?" Bobby mused tauntingly.

"You know him. Pool of generosity," Scott scorned. "Always up for charity."

Bobby chortled. "C'mon, bus is leaving soon. Coach wants us all there." He got up, letting the chair slide noisily behind him.

Reluctantly, Carter got up. Johnny's eyes were down on his lunch, as he moved the pasta around with his fork. Carter gazed at him for a couple of seconds, wishing Johnny would just look up for half an instant so Carter could see his face.

"See you at the game?" He asked, when Johnny didn't. "Maybe?" He echoed the other boy's earlier response tentatively.

Johnny only glanced up briefly. "Maybe," he repeated under his breath.

It wasn't much, but Carter took it, letting Bobby and Scott pull him along out of the library.

On the bus, Carter sat down next to Seth, with Joey and Chaz Wheeler in front of them. Coach gave them the usual pre-game pep talk; longer than the one before, as was characteristic of this point of the season.

When they finally got to their destination, Carter stretched his arms and legs, stiff from the long journey. Joey danced around from leg to leg in front of him, whining to anyone willing—or not—to listen that he needed to pee.

They geared up in the locker room available to them and scattered off to the field for practice. Coach bellowed for the entirety of it, before calling them in for a final short pep talk, which was a little more along the lines of 'just don't fuck this up'. As they flocked back to the locker room, Coach called Carter and Seth aside. As co-captains.

"Alright, boys. I want you focused and sharp out there," he said, seriously. "They didn't go far last year, but they're much better this year. They have a new QB and their defense looks like they've been on steroids all summer."

"Jesus, Coach," Seth let out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Carter bit back a smile. "Don't worry, sir. We're all focused," he assured him.

Coach nodded, seeming pleased to hear it. "Knew I could count on you, Parrish."

Seth glanced at him, shooting a wink his way, and Carter smiled to himself.

Coach told them to get back into the locker room and they jogged away to join their team. Inside, amidst the typical locker room loudness, someone urged Carter to speak and next thing he knew the team was quieting down to look at him. Seth stood behind him, arms crossed and one shoulder leaning against a row of lockers. There was an encouraging smile in his pale green eyes, when Carter glanced at him.

"Okay..." He muttered, watching the attentive looks on his teammates' faces. "There's not much to say, guys. You know what to do. We've done it all over and over during practice. It should be muscle memory, by now. The only way to mess this up is going out there and thinking too much."

As his team hooted and whistled in approval, Carter tried not to laugh as he thought about what Johnny would say if he had heard him address them just down. Carter could practically see him. Rolling his eyes with a devious smile and point out how 'thinking too much' was not exactly the team's forte. Ever.

Carter shook that thought off his head as Joey grabbed him and Seth around the shoulders to join the team's motivational huddling. When they got out on the field again, beneath the scrutiny of the full stands, Carter was trying to make himself believe the words he had just spoken to his teammates, in a way to muffle the jittery voice inside.

"You'll be fine," Seth muttered quietly behind him.

Carter gulped. He was in full gear, and he had hoped that helped hide his uncharacteristic nervousness. Apparently not. At least, not from Seth.

"Their new quarterback is fine, but he's not as good as you," Seth continued smoothly. "He's inexperienced. And his rate of completions isn't as high."

"I heard his passing performance was pretty good last game," Carter murmured.

"Yours is practically flawless, every game," Seth replied without hesitation. "You got this. Follow your own advice and don't think too much."

The coin toss followed and soon the kick-off. Carter's team started playing offense on the first drive. As soon as Scott Meyers snapped the ball into Carter's hand, he jumped into action. When the football flew from his hands, it moved like a dart to land on Chaz Wheeler's hand before the opposing defense ended their play.

Coach's words rang in his head. Focused and sharp. He took a deep breath.

His next pass was incomplete. His fault. Carter pursed his lips. He never felt nervous at games. He could always kick into auto-mode.

His eyes swept across the crowd, which he usually also avoided doing, and he couldn't understand the feeling of unease until his eyes landed on a familiar face, in the third row.

Johnny.

He sat next to his sister, with his hands in his denim jacket's pockets and honey-brown eyes fixed on Carter. 

Something in his chest fluttered with riveting force and he moved into place for their third down. Like holy medicine, Carter felt his nerves dissolve. He knew what to do. He always did. Focused and sharp, at last.

When they won, Carter felt even prouder to know Johnny was there to watch. Because he had come to see him play. He said maybe, but then he came.

As the students from Miami Whitewater High converged to the field to celebrate their football team, Carter dodged cheering smiles and congratulating arms, searching for Johnny's face in the crowd. He found him standing to the back, near the bleachers, with Lydia at his side. Carter grinned, holding his helmet in one hand as the other pulled back his mussed up hair.

Johnny bit his lip around a smile. "So. That was the great Carter Parrish in action," he mused, when Carter stopped in front of him.

"You were incredible," Lydia praised. "Daddy is probably over the moon."

Johnny smirked. "Yeah, that bodes well for us. When you lose, he's in a bad mood the whole weekend."

Carter laughed. "You're welcome then. I guess."

Lydia's brown-skinned friend with the dark curls, Jessica, popped up beside her with a blinding beam. "Great game," she exclaimed, after giving Lydia a side-hug.

"Thanks," Carter replied.

"Is Luca here?" Jessica asked him, eagerly. "I think I saw him on the stands earlier."

Carter's eyes widened a bit, looking between Johnny and Lydia for guidance. They both had similar expressions of quiet amusement.

"Uhm... I don't know," he trailed off, somewhat hesitant to get involved in freshmen drama. He looked at Johnny again. "Are you guys going to the party later?" He asked, hopefully. He could hear the expectation in his own voice and didn't care.

Lydia shot her brother a look to match Carter's tone. "Are we?" She pouted.

Johnny pulled a face. "Uhm, no..." his voice trailed off, as his sister's doe-eyed look intensified. "Yes?" He said, making it sound more like a resistant question than an answer.

Lydia's bottom lip jutted out even further as she hung off her brother's shoulder. "You know you're the best big brother in the world?"

Johnny's eyes closed as he inhaled sharply. When they opened again, it was only so they could roll unwillingly. "Fine," he gave in. "I'll take you. But we're leaving at midnight."

"But—"

"Not a second longer," Johnny cut her off sternly. He glanced at Carter briefly, before focusing on his sister again. "And only if dad says it's okay."

"He will if we say we're going with Carter Parrish," Lydia said matter-of-factly.

Johnny looked unimpressed.

Carter grinned regardless. "So... see you in a bit?"

Johnny shrugged, hands in his pockets. "I guess."

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