We all sing together. All of the fans. Chanting, shouting, cheering our team. Football games are beautiful in their own right. And this one – it’s the first one of the season.
I’m in the stands – with the season ticket holders. We get the best view. This time, I have really good seats. Right in the middle. I sang at half time at one of the games last year.
I’m not a professional singer, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m a research scientist. They wouldn’t let me teach.
The stands begin to fill up, and soon it’s time for kick off. I cheer with the rest of the crowd as one player passes the ball to the next.
“Get in there,” somebody shouts next to me. I freeze. Stop moving. Stop shouting. I cough.
And then he turns towards me. I’m certain now. Absolutely certain. I think he is too.
“Cassie Logan?” He says me name as if it’s a question. I can’t tell how he feels about it. I don’t know how I feel about.
He looks older – there’s a few lines around his eyes and his hair is shorter. He doesn’t look as boyish as I remember. But the eyes…they’re the same.
“Yeah,” I say. I’m surprised he recognises me – after five years. My hair is shorter.
“You look…different.” It’s not good or bad. I take a deep breath.
“You look exactly the same,” I tell him. It’s so easy to slip back into old habits.
But I’m still not sure about it. Unspoken questions linger in the air.
“Listen, about…that” he doesn’t say the words, but I know what he means. “I’m sorry.” It’s not what I expect. I can’t hear the crowd anymore. It’s just me and him.
“You already told me,” I point out. “Plus, it was my fault, I’m the one that’s sorry.” I have to say it. After all these years, I still blame myself. I ruined his career, his credibility.
“You were expelled, I heard about it. You had to move schools…” I stop him.
This time, I know who initiated it. This time, I’m certain of what’s happening. I know nothing at all. But it’s perfect.
“I’m a research scientist,” I whisper. “It didn’t do me much harm.”
“You’re perfect, Cassie Logan.” He smiles, and I know it’s real. His looks become boyish again, just for a second.
I’d wished for this moment for weeks after they took him away. I never thought I’d see him again. But here we are, next to each other at a football game, repeating the past.
“You too, sir.” Old habits die hard.
“Go on a date with me,” he says. It’s not a question. He knows the answer.
“Of course,” I laugh.
“Tomorrow at 9?”
“You’re on.” I can’t help smiling.
“The performance you did last year…it was beautiful.” His words shock me. How did he know?
That’s when I know we’re meant to be. He’d checked up on me after all those years.
He takes my hand in his. It’s a perfect fit.
Finally, we can finish what we started.