SAFETY PINNING THE PIECES OF MY BROKEN HEART

The crowd of fans started lessening. It went from being packed with rowdy people to friends and family gathering to celebrate. Some of them were in jerseys, some of them with headsets around their necks, thanking each other for their efforts. Everyone grateful for a win against a team that hasn't happened in over seven years. A rivalry trophy finally brought home.

My brother is laughing with Joey as they talked to a few players near the goal post, but my eyes were searching for the tight end, and I wouldn't stop until I found number eighty-seven.

Then I found him. In the middle of the field, standing on the logo, flipping the game-winning ball into the air. His eyes were focused on the empty stands, staring at whatever it was he's staring at. Only then did I wonder about his family and where they were tonight. Is Carter from Iowa City or was his family unable to come?

"You stuck around."

I turned away from the man who looked all too lonely surrounded by teammates and friends to find Tory standing beside me with a lopsided grin on his face. He shook his blonde hair. The curly strands once stuck to his forehead were now bouncing back and forth before finding a resting spot to where he pushed them back.

"You won."

"I didn't expect you to uphold your end of the bet," he shrugged. "I'm happy you did."

"Good evening, Sawyer."

Carter rested an arm on Tory's shoulder, the corner of his lips tipping upward. The game winning ball is tucked beneath his arm, his feet crossed, and grass stains all over his jersey. Pieces of his chocolate brown hair are stuck to his forehead. He's sweating. He looks exhausted but alive.

"Hi, Carter."

"How'd I do?"

The blonde boy didn't stick around. He walked away before I could answer as if he knew this conversation was meant to be between me and Carter only.

"Horrible," I sighed. "I don't know much, but I know you did it all wrong."

"Which means your eyes were on me all night, yeah?" I watched him swipe his tongue across his bottom lip.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, C.J."

"C.J? Is that my new nickname?"

"Do you want it to be?"

Carter stepped forward, his voice deepening. "You can call me whatever you want, Sawyer."

My toes curled into the soles of my shoes as I stood beneath his gaze, trying to ground myself before I caught on fire. Our conversation didn't last long, and I was as upset as I was relieved. I didn't know how to handle him or really men at all. I didn't know what Carter was trying to do or why Tory wanted me to stay after the game. I had my ideas, but I didn't have clear answers.

"How about dinner?" Cade, the quarterback, suggested. "We could celebrate at Doozie's or go out."

The series of yeses filled the air. I didn't plan on going out. I don't think I ever would, but everyone turned to me for an answer, and when I gave it, no one made me feel bad. They accepted it.

"Don't ever feel pressured," Joey gave me a reassuring smile. "I'll give you a ride home, okay?"

"I'll take her," Carter dismissed the idea. "I planned on calling it a night anyways. Levitt's last hit got me good, and the adrenaline is starting to wear off."

"Come on," Tory groaned. "You always go out."

"I can't be the life of the party all the time," the brown-eyed boy's eyes found mine. "I need to change and grab my stuff from the locker room. Wait here. Okay?"

I nodded as he waited for my confirmation. "Okay."

On his walk back to the locker room, he turned to search for me, but I didn't leave. It's like he had to make sure. I wondered if he needed the reassurance. Almost like he's used to being left or lied to. I don't know. Maybe I'm reading into it. But I hated it when people put their nose in my business. So, I waited with Joey who said it was against girl code to leave each other alone, but it didn't take long for the tight end to meet us back on the field with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

"Ready to go?"

I nodded softly, watching Joey run to catch up with Fletcher and the rest of the team. With one last glance at the stadium, I made myself a promise to come back. That if I were to be asked to attend another game, I wouldn't hesitate to say yes. Because now that the field is disappearing from my view, I feel like I'm leaving a piece of me behind.

When I finally faced forward, I found Carter staring at me.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

I bite into my lower lip, nodding. "Yeah."

"I saw you screaming your head off."

I couldn't hold back my smile anymore. "Turns out I really love football."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," I giggled, unable to contain my excitement. "My favorite discovery so far."

"Well, I discovered a few things out about myself too," he adjusted the strap on his shoulder. "It turns out I really like seeing you in my hoodie and I love hearing the sound of your voice."

My lips clamped shut as if it'd stop the heat from flushing my cheeks. I dipped my chin beneath the material of his hoodie, trying to hide myself, but I felt the warmth creeping to the tops of my ears, and when the boy beside me started laughing, I know he saw it.

"Thanks."

As he opened the passenger side door of a large navy-blue truck, I quickly came to the realization that we were leaving together. What the fuck am I supposed to do when we get back to the house? Are we going to hang out? Am I obligated to? Does this make us friends?

He gathered in the seat next to me, securing himself in with the seatbelt before starting the truck. Warmth flooded through the cab of the truck. Thankfully. Because Carter is wearing shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt as if winter isn't approaching.

"Are you hungry?"

I started shaking my head when he scoffed. "Fucking liar."

"What?"

"If I stopped for something, you wouldn't get anything?"

"Right."

"What'd you eat today?"

I stared at him in shock. "You bought me food."

"Are you serious?" His head snapped toward me. "It's nearly eleven, Sawyer. That was over six hours ago."

My fingers started trembling, and I did what I could to hide them, so he couldn't see them. "Please, don't be upset."

"You need to eat, Sawyer."

"I don't have a big appetite."

"Well, that's gonna change, or this friendship won't last," his teasing voice stole my attention from the anxiety swirling in my stomach. "I love eating."

"Who said I wanted to be friends?"

"I'm fine with being more than that. Just say the words."

"Not what I meant."

"Bummer," he frowned. "I thought we could be best friends."

A breathy laugh fell from my lips. "You're the worst."

"I like this," he motioned between us. "Your voice. How comfortable you are. I like all of it."

"You have the effect on people."

"Not everybody. A lot of people can't stand me."

"Do you like those people?"

"Fuck no," he scoffed. "I can barely stand half the people in this town."

"Why does it matter then? You don't like everybody so why care if you're not liked by everybody?"

"Very wise."

"I'm the wise grasshopper and you're the angry Carter-Pillar."

A burst of laughter fell from his lips. "Carter-Pillar?"

The muscles in my cheeks were starting to hurt from how often I smiled around him. "Mhm."

"Alright, wise grasshopper. You're starting to grow on me."

"I'm happy you like when I bug you."

His nose scrunched up. "That pun sucked. You just ruined all of this."

"Ruined it?"

"Butchered it," he sighed. "You were doing great, but then you had to mess it all up, Soy Sauce."

I choked on air as I gasped. "Soy Sauce? Really?"

"Yeah," he shifted back and forth. "It's your new nickname."

"Then you're Carter Sauce like Totter Sauce."

"You just have to one up me, don't you?"

"Or Carter Tot!"

He pulled the car into a parking lot. "Get out of the truck, Soy Sauce."

"Oh, come on, shopping Cart," I teased. "Don't be a Debbie downer."

His head fell back as his beaming smile lit up the night sky. "Alright, Jig Saw, get inside."

"That was terrible!"

"You're right," he led us toward a brick building on the corner. "We'll stick to soy sauce."

His arm reached above me to hold the door open, allowing me inside of the pizza parlor. I looked back at him, ready to protest, but he pretended to zip his mouth as a waitress approached us. I felt the guilt building up as he ordered, but that feeling disappeared as the night went on. We were divided by a table, but I never felt closer to somebody. The conversation never ended. The waitress continued supplying us milkshakes until it felt like the buttons on my jeans would pop. I never wanted to leave. The more time I spent with Carter, the better I felt. He was safety pinning the pieces of my broken heart back together, and something about that was as scary as it was liberating.