Seeing Shane Gray ✓

thirty three | lose

*.*.*.*.*.*

November 29

For Friday's game, I dress for the team.

It's not because I have a particular tendency to support the home team. It's simply because I know how much this game means to Shane. It's the biggest game of his high school football career and -- especially seeing how anxious he's been about it -- I want to show him my support.

"I see you're making a statement," Marla says, eyeing my white shirt with its frilly hem.

I ignore her, rolling my eyes and squeezing myself between her and Riley in the bleachers.

"So are you two actually together now or what?" Riley asks, keeping her gaze fixed on her phone.

It's weird, really, how coolly she speaks about Shane. I get that Carlos and her didn't really get anywhere with their relationship but that was her decision. After I found out the truth about Carlos' relationship with Gemma, I've been nothing but friends with him. I can't help but feel like Riley blames me for their failed relationship. I kind of blame myself too, for how I'd acted in the beginning without knowing all the facts.

Uproarious cheering drowns out any opportunity of me answering and we all look towards the field to watch the two teams take their positions. I see Shane standing directly behind the center, yelling something I can't even try to make out over all the noise. He glances toward the crowd and I wave, pretty sure he won't be able to see me anyway. He doesn't, turning away and preparing for the start of the game. It's at that moment that I notice -- quite irrelevantly -- the number on his uniform.

Thirteen.

What a fucking unlucky number.

I don't believe in luck, though, but I do believe in choices. And when the game begins, I can only watch in horror as Shane's choices begin to weigh him down. With every miss and every mistake, I wonder how it would have been if he had never started taking Adderall. And if he had ... if only he hadn't stopped before this game.

The team loses fifteen to six.

I don't say it, but the six were pure luck too.

"I'll see you guys later," I yell to my friends who are too busy discussing with extreme disbelief how terrible the game was. Trying to push past the bags and jump over the legs of students who don't bother to move out of my way, I make my way towards the team locker rooms to find Shane. Seeing him throw his helmet on the ground and stalk off as soon as the whistle blew to announce the end of the game, I know how heartbroken he must be.

I try calling his number -- which I never do -- but the call only goes to voicemail. I call Carlos instead and tell him to meet me outside the locker rooms. Tapping my foot and wrapping my arms around my waist, I wait for him to come out. When he finally does, I can see my pain reflected in his eyes.

"We got owned today," he says as soon as he sees me.

"How is he?" I ask, not sure I'm ready to know the answer.

"How any guy who just ruined his entire life would be," Carlos says.

I narrow my eyes and scowl at him. "Could you be any more dramatic, Carlos? You're not helping with statements like that."

"Hey, those are our coach's words." He shrugs.

My heart sinks. "Did he say that to Shane?"

"Hell yeah." Carlos sighs.

"What did he say?"

Carlos' shoulders slump and he looks into the distance.

"He hasn't said a word since he got in there," he tells me.