Marcie

“Go, baby, go!” Heather shrieks from the stands next to me, her voice nearly swallowed up by the crowd.

I stomp my feet and cheer aimlessly. I lost track of Everett ages ago, but I can tell one of the boys in blue has the ball, and they’re sprinting down the field, which I think is… good? Somehow, in the stands, the cold air stinging my face, wearing more bright blue than I could’ve sworn I owned before I started going to these games with Heather, I don’t really care. Being here isn’t about understanding the game beyond the scoreboard looming over the field, declaring it the final quarter,...