Work Text:
Eliot bounced on his toes. Summer heat baked the grass. The scents of popcorn, burgers, and cotton candy filled the air.
Humidity had curls falling into his face, and sweat stuck the hair to his skin. He pushed the strands away and scanned the growing crowd.
The chain length fence separated him from the spectators. Just beyond the bleachers, he could see part of the parking lot.
Old farm trucks with gun racks filled the lot. A few sedans were mixed in. Country music played over the speakers, and laughter filled in the gaps.
“Spencer!”
“In a minute!” Eyes on the parking lot, he angled his neck to see further but a body blocked his view.
He let go of the fence and sagged. His shoulder pads dug into his arms and he kicked the dirt at his feet.
“Shouldn't you be getting ready?”
Eliot lifted his gaze and met his dad's.
“Sammy's not here,” Eliot muttered. “He promised to be here.”
His dad knelt down. “It's still early and they've got a long drive.”
“But…”
“No, listen here,” Dad said. “You go out there and show everyone what you can do. I'm sure he'll be waiting for you when the game is over.”
Eliot drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He gave his dad a firm nod and ran off to the field.
He tugged his helmet on and found a place in the huddle. Coach Bradley began reading off the starting assignments.
Eliot's heart swelled as he heard his name. Quarterback. He was going to start the game.
Take that Tyler Johnson!
A grin spread across his face and he ran to take his place.
The game started, and Eliot focused on the plays. He'd memorized his playbook. Practiced the quarterback and receiver plays. He knew the field.
The first few plays were shaky. Eliot stumbled through the play calls. His teammates got confused and were in the wrong place. One of his throws sailed into the end zone and no one was there to catch it.
The score stayed 0-3 through the first half of the game. Stupid Simon Carter had kicked a field goal.
Eliot kept his helmet on and was glad the sweat hid his teary eyes. He sucked. The team sucked, and he'd be back on the bench the next game with Tyler smirking at him from the field. It wasn't fair.
He sank down onto the bench. Dirt clung to his cleats, and grass stained his pants. Eliot picked at the dirt under his fingernails.
His teammates were gathered around the other bench, laughing and shoving each other.
A water bottle appeared in his line of sight, and Eliot took the bottle from his dad. Gentle hands removed his helmet.
“Drink.”
He slowly drank down the cool water before handing it back.
“What have you done wrong?” Dad asked. His tone was gentle and he settled next to Eliot.
“I threw too far,” Eliot said, voice soft. “I didn't read the other team right.”
Dad nodded. “Anything else?”
Eliot sighed. “I've been distracted.”
“You've been distracted,” Dad said.
“Sammy's not coming, is he?” Eliot asked. His words cracked and crumbled as he spoke.
An arm wrapped around his back and he was pulled into his dad's side.
“Your momma spoke to your Aunt Margaret. According to her, something's come up.” Dad kept his tone soft.
Eliot drew in a deep breath and pushed the disappointment down. Of course. He should have expected it. This was just a football game. It wasn't important.
“Oh.” Eliot swallowed. “I guess that's okay.”
Dad opened his mouth, but closed it. He kissed the top of Eliot's head. “Kayla thinks we should head to Elmore’s after the game.”
Eliot smiled because he was supposed to. “Yeah. We can do that.”
“You can order that Big Bite burger you keep eyeing.”
“With a milkshake too?” Eliot asked. He ignored the tightness in his throat.
“Of course.”
“ELIOT!!” A loud shout rang out over the crowd. Eliot's head shot up. Sammy hung on the fence, a big grin spread across his face. He wore a Ninja Turtles t-shirt and a Carson Crow hat
Eliot jumped up and raced over. He blamed the tears on the sweat dripping down his face, and grabbed onto the chain length fence.
“Sammy!!” Eliot's smile spread wide. He missed most of the hurried conversation between his parents and his aunt and uncle. “I thought you weren't going to make it.”
Sammy's smile dimmed briefly. He cast a glance towards their parents. His voice lowered. “Drake tried to ruin today. He claimed his stupid birthday party was more important.”
Eliot's face scrunched. “His birthday is next month.”
“They're going to France next month, so he won't be here.” Sammy rolled his eyes. “We had to drive all the way there yesterday, before coming here.”
“It is closer,” Eliot said with a shrug. “I wouldn't have blamed you if y'all couldn't make it.”
“I’d rather come here,” Sammy said. “Mom was mad we had to go. Dad made sure we weren't stuck there long.”
Eliot looked back towards their parents. They were standing at the end of the bleachers near the snack stand.
Mom’s face was stone, and her arms were crossed. Aunt Darlene wore a similar look. Uncle Paul was talking to Dad through the fence. They were speaking too low for Eliot to hear, but Sarah and Kayla were quietly standing nearby. They'd fill them in later.
“Spencer!”
Eliot startled, heart jumping into his throat. Coach Bradley and the team were waiting for him.
“We'll talk later.” Sammy grinned and hopped down. “Aunt Nancy said we're getting burgers and ice cream afterwards.”
“We are!” Eliot grinned and waved. “Later!”
Excitement rushed through him and Eliot sprinted back towards the field. He tugged his helmet back on and joined the huddle.
The sun was still high in the sky. Patches of grass had been torn up beneath their feet.
The score read 0-3 for the opposing team. He laughed. Sammy was here and Eliot had a game to win.
Take that stupid Drake.