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“My dad,” he pointed out. The man looked down at me and nodded a silent greeting. “He doesn’t talk much but he’s cool,” Reece explained.
    “I understand. My dad was like that too.”
    Reece looked from his dad to me and motioned for me to sit down, but not before placing a blanket on the bleachers. “My dad was a Marine but he does odd jobs now.”
    “Sounds like we have a few things in common,” I said. “My dad was in the Army reserves.”
    “We should have a lot to talk about then,” Reece suggested. I nodded but didn’t say anything. I took in the sights around me, the colorful band to my right, the eleven cheerleaders lined up in front wearing leggings under their skirts, and the stands filled to capacity with cheering students and families. A girl to my left was sitting with her boyfriend and they passed a cup of hot cocoa back and forth. I observed them without them noticing. They had a blanket wrapped around them and they were leaned into one another. I could smell the richness of the hot cocoa as it steamed and drifted my way. I felt colder than before so I wrapped my arms around my chest in an effort to hold in the warmth, or keep the loneliness out.
    Reece seemed satisfied that I was comfortable so he ran off to join the cheerleaders who were already lined up and stretching. He waved at me throughout the game and I was impressed with his outgoing persona. Why couldn’t I be like that? The way he cheered, the way he smiled, the way he lifted a girl above his head or threw her in a basket toss…And the way they all crowded around him. He was respected and admired.
    It was cold by the time the game ended and everyone was in a celebratory mood. Reece jogged over to me and gave me a big hug. It felt good.
    “You have a great smile,” Reece observed. “I don’t think I’ve seen you so relaxed.”
    He was right. Since my dad died this was perhaps the first time I let my guard down long enough to feel genuinely happy about something. I found that when I smiled at Reece, I meant it.
    There were six of us who walked to the Pizzeria and a lot of playful shenanigans took place along the way. Some of the guys were giving the girls piggy back rides but I stood by Reece. At one point he gently guided me to his right so he walked on the side of traffic. A gentleman too, I noted.
    Reece tried to make sure I didn’t feel left out. We sat down in groups and I looked past everyone and gazed across the street, not seeing anything because I was thinking.  I heard laughter, giggles, flirting. I felt a warm hand on my forearm. “Order what you like. It’s my treat,” Reece offered. I looked up; the waitress was waiting.
    “Oh, excuse me…I’ll have the…uh…meatball sub and an iced tea.”  The waitress nodded, took our menus and excused herself.
    “I like a girl with an appetite!” Reece said approvingly.
    I snickered and silently rebuked myself for choosing something so messy.
    “You don’t have to pay. I have plenty.”
    “But I want to pay,” he insisted.
    I blushed. “That’s really nice of you. Thank you. Next time it will be my treat.”
    Next time?
    How presumptuous of me.
    A sudden gust of wind blew my napkin off the table. I turned and caught it and in doing so I saw the familiar black motorcycle and its equally dark rider. His head was turned in our direction but he didn’t slow down or stop. There were two more riders with him, one in front, the other in back – each with motorcycles of their own, each veiled in black.
    How could it be that I was in the company of such a nice guy and feel drawn to someone I didn’t even know? I would have to put Haven out of mind. He showed me a bit of kindness, something he probably would have done for anyone, and I was turning it into a fantasy merely because he appeared to be as aloof and distant as I was.
    When I turned around to face the table I deliberately engaged Reece in conversation but I asked more questions than I answered.
    Reece