"Mom, I'm sorry, but I need to be here."

I balanced my phone between my shoulder and my ear as I made sure the door to my office was locked, jiggling the handle a few times despite the fact that I knew it auto-locked and was only accessible by key card. You could never keep your creative property too safe.

"Jo, it's the only holiday that all of the cousins can get together," Mom sighed out on the other line. "You've always come home for the long weekend."

While I'd already had the conversation with my mother earlier this month about staying at Clemson for Thanksgiving, she was making one last-ditch effort even though it was already Tuesday of the holiday week. She'd even gone so far as to offer to pay for my last-minute flight.

"Well, that was before I had to be back here to make Instagram content for the most important rivalry in South Carolina," I stated in a matter-of-factly tone. "And contrary to popular belief, it's not Aldi vs. Food Lion."

She was undeterred. "You could leave Friday morning."

It was my turn to sigh. "Not only is it unreasonable to have a 48-hour turnaround for a trip, it's also cutting it too close. What if my flight was delayed? What if they lost my luggage? I can't afford any plane-related missteps or mishaps."

And obviously if I could avoid getting on a plane altogether, that would be ideal. I stopped in the lobby of the football complex to try and collect myself, pressing my hand to my forehead and taking a few breaths. It was situations like this that made me wonder if my mom took everything I did personally - from where I went to school to what I studied to not coming home for holidays - as if I made decisions based on what she didn't want. 

The only thing that stopped that guilty weed from growing is that I knew I didn't. I made decisions based on myself, and myself alone. Maybe it was a little selfish, but it wasn't ill-intentioned.

"Are you sure you're okay with being alone for the holiday?" Her voice softened just a touch. She was still my mom, and I didn't like making her feel bad either.

"Mom, it'll be fine," I assured her, matching the delicateness of her tone. "I don't even like turkey that much. I could probably cook myself something more appealing. No offense."

"Very funny, Jo." I heard her grin on the other end.

Most people had already gone home for the week before we all had to be back for the game. It even smelled extra Pine Sol-y, in the way they deep clean the place when they know nobody will be there for a while. But in the silence, I became hyper-aware of the sound of someone's sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor.

My mother continued, but her words were lost in the sound of the blood rushing through my ears as Reid came up beside me and nudged me in the arm. Because of course, if there was one person leaving after I was, it was him.

"Sorry, what?" I said into the phone, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him grin.

"Nothing," Mom sighed. "Guess I can't get you to change your mind, huh?"

"Nope." I shook my head, feeling Reid lingering beside me. I started walking towards the door, and he followed. "I gotta go, okay? I'll call you later, love you."

I hung up before I could hear her response.

"All good?" Reid asked as he held the glass doors open for me.

"My mom was making one last-ditch effort to get me to come up to New York for Thanksgiving," I told him as he fell into step beside me. "Even if I liked flying, it makes no sense for me to go there for two days and rush back here. I need to be prepped and ready for College Gameday."

Reid squinted as we walked out into the glare of the early evening sun. "Wait, you're not going home for Thanksgiving?"

"Like I just got through saying, there's no point."

Reid stopped, and it was then I realized he'd followed me to my car, even though his truck was on the other side of the lot. He looked down at me with a slightly puzzled expression. I hated that I noticed he must have just gotten his hair trimmed, a few licks and curls going wayward in the late autumn breeze. 

"What?" I asked him, leaning against the door of my Jetta.

"Why don't you just come home with me?" he shrugged. "I'm leaving Wednesday morning and coming back Friday before practice. And, you don't have to get on a plane."

I shook my head at him. "I appreciate that, but I'm fine, Reid."

"But then you're gonna be alone for Thanksgiving."

"You sound like my mother." I scoffed. "And you of all people should understand and appreciate having alone time."

"Yeah, I do," he offered me a wry grin. "But this is like, three days. Not one party. Besides, you don't wanna see me fry a turkey?"

I held up my hand. "Hold on, you fry the turkey?"

"I am in fact from a full-blooded Southern family. It's what we do." Now he was grinning ear to ear. "Come on, it'll be fun."

I thought all the way back to 4th of July, when I was the one feeling bad about Reid being all alone. We barely knew each other then. In fact, by all intents and purposes, we didn't even like each other, and yet even back then, the sight of seeing him sitting by the fire by himself made something stir in my chest. I wondered if he was doing the same thing now, questioning the irrationalness of it all but doing it anyway because he felt what I had felt.

Part of me already knew the answer, which is why I pushed back a little more.

"I really don't want to impose," I told him.

That wasn't a lie. But the prospect of spending an extended period of time with Reid and his family outside of the Clemson bubble seemed similarly irrational.

Reid sighed and shook his head at me as he slipped his phone out of the pocket of his sweats.

"What are you doing?" I asked warily.

"Calling my mom."

I lunged at him in an attempt to grab his phone, but he quickly spun me around and trapped me with one arm. I let out a defeated groan. There was no point in struggling against his strength.

"So, I just found out Jo's not going home for Thanksgiving," he said into the phone. After a moment or two, he continued. "No, I know, but I just wanted to make sure."

He grinned down at me when he released me from his grip. "You're not imposing. In fact, Missy will be very disappointed if you don't come. Feel better?"

Not really, but the way he was smiling at me made me feel something. No matter how much my head warned me to stay behind, my heart ached to spend time with him, even if nothing was happening between us. He made all of those conflicting, irrational thoughts make sense.

"I have one stipulation, otherwise I'm not coming," I told him as I held a finger up. "I want to contribute a dish to dinner."

"Alright. I'm sure my mom would love that." Reid began to back away, still grinning the I always win type of grin. "I'll pick you up bright and early Wednesday morning, okay?"

"As long as we stop for coffee on the way or I'm going to be very unpleasant the entire car ride," I called after him, and he gave me a thumbs up before turning and walking to his truck.

"Great," I sighed out when he was out of earshot. "Way to go, Jo."

━━━━━━

I spent most of the day Tuesday in organized chaos mode. I had a dinner dish to figure out, clothes to pack, and a playlist to make for a three hour car ride. I was used to cold and snow, fancy charcuterie boards with a meticulously planned three course dinner, and conversations with all of my overachieving cousins.

Going to Reid's was going to be none of that. So I overpacked and overplanned.

Bright and early to Reid on Wednesday was 6 AM. Even though we did stop for coffee, I ended up falling asleep in his cushy leather truck seat to the appropriately folksy sound of Leon Bridges, watching sprawling country farmland whizz by on Route 26.

I woke up with about 20 minutes left in the drive, but I wasn't sure he noticed. He had his window just cracked open, and morning sunlight poured over his face. As I allowed myself a quiet moment to just look at him, going over every freckle and messy lock of hair, I wondered if all those irrational feelings would ever go away. Would I ever just be able to look at him without my heart wanting to jump out of my chest and into his hands?

"Oh, we have to make a pit stop on the way home," he said as he turned the music down slightly. I gulped, feeling my face heat up. Did he know I had been awake and staring at him? If he did, he'd played it unbearably cool.

"Where to?" I asked, also trying to play it cool.

"The Tomato Shed."

"The Tomato what?"

"Tomato Shed," he repeated with a smirk. "It's a local market. My mom already put in an order, so we just have to pick it up."

"You mean for the turkey you're going to fry?" I asked with a coy smirk.

"Among other necessities," he chuckled. He finally pulled off of the main freeway and down a narrow two-lane road, thickly lined with trees that canopied the street and almost entirely blocked out the sun. Moss hung from most of the branches and swayed gently in a breeze, giving wherever we'd just arrived an almost fairytale feeling.

We passed a sign I'd seen a picture of but never thought I'd see in person. WELCOME TO WADMALAW ISLAND - and underneath it, freshly painted - GROUP II FOOTBALL STATE CHAMPIONS, 2018, 2019.

Shortly after the sign, Reid pulled down a gravel road that eventually led to a bright red wooden house. Tomato red, obviously. He shut the truck off and motioned for me to follow him in.

The inside of the Tomato Shed did in fact look like a shed you expected tomatoes to grow, with white lattice up the walls adorned with shelves of jam jars and picked vegetables. Round wooden tables took up most of the floor space, some with piles of local cheese and others with fresh fruit. At the back, there was a small butcher counter, where an older woman with frizzy gray hair vigorously wiped at the counter with a rag.

"Well I'll be damned," she greeted us when she lifted her head up, and her accent reminded me of Reid's mom. "I swear you get taller every time I see you."

"Nah, you just took all the hanging tchotchkes off the ceiling panels so I don't have to duck," Reid replied with a chuckle. It got me to laugh a little too, which alerted her to my presence.

"Oh now, who's this?" the conspiratory grin she wore gave all her assumptions away. I also knew Reid well enough to know he didn't bring girls home, so how could she not think the obvious? I would have too.

But Reid moved in quickly to remedy that. "This is Jo, my friend from school. Miranda here runs the Shed."

It didn't bother me, because it was partially true, but friend from school still felt unnatural. It was casual and nonchalant, and not at all as if he were a national star and I was writing profile pieces on him that hundreds of thousands of sports fans read. Just two normal college kids coming home for the holiday. It almost felt good.

"Nice to meet you," I offered her a smile.

"Oh, ain't you sweet," she cooed at me before ducking behind the counter for two bags. "Now these are your collards and your potatoes. I heaped in some extra collards for Charlie because I know he likes them. Lemme just go get your turkey."

When she turned away, Reid grinned down at me. Ain't you sweet, he mouthed at me.

Shut up, I mouthed back, mirroring his grin.

"You frying this year?" she asked Reid as she handed him another bag.

"Yep," he nodded. "Mostly because I'm the least likely to get oil splashed on me."

"Cause you got them long arms," Miranda chuckled. "Well y'all be careful now. Have a happy holiday."

"Yes ma'am. You too."

"Have a nice day." I smiled at Miranda once more before grabbing the extra bag from the counter and following Reid out.

"I've never seen someone's hometown switch flip so dramatically," I chided him when we walked through the parking lot, grinning up at him. "I mean the yes ma'am really did it for me."

Reid took the third bag from me and put them on the floor of the truck behind the passenger's seat.

"I have manners," he replied with a chuckle. As he walked back around towards the front of the truck, he gently flicked the back of my head when he passed me.

"No, I know you do." I grunted as I ungracefully lifted myself up into the passenger seat. "You just sound so..."

"At home?"

Reid dropped into the driver's seat and turned the truck on, but I could see his smile even though he wasn't looking at me.

"Yeah," I breathed out. "Exactly."

"I'm not Heisman trophy favorite Reid Donahue here, ya know," he said. "I'm just Reid."

"Well, I like just Reid," I told him. I meant it.

"Good." His voice was softer now, and the tips of his ears began to turn pink.

Reid drove back out onto the tree-lined road, and I raised the volume on the music. Every so often, there would be a gap in the side of the road where another gravel or dirt path would lead back into the trees. Some of them had signs, like Ghost Tree Farm or Benton Acres. I knew Reid lived in more of a rural area, but I clearly didn't know what rural really meant around here.

He made a left into one of those dirt gaps, where just a mailbox sat at the base of it. Eventually the trees cleared, where a white, two-story house sat at the end of the path. It had the weathered type of character that houses that had been in families for multiple generations had, but the massive wrap-around porch had been lined with well-kept flowering bushes, and a few big pots of ferns hung from the porch ceiling. A big boat on a trailer was parked on the grass off to the side of the house, and one of the trees closer to the house had a tire swing gently swaying in the breeze.

"Okay, we're here." He told me as he parked onto the grass near the boat. "Just leave your bags, I'll come out and get them later."

"Oh, thank you." I slid out of the truck and took in a better view of the clearing. Nothing but the sound of insects and the rustling of the wind in the trees could be heard, and being surrounded by trees on all sides made it feel like the rest of the world was far, far away.

"I love your house, and I love all the open space," I told him as he led me up the few steps to the porch. "How far is your closest neighbor?"

"About half a mile down that road we came in on," he replied. I took two of the bags from him as he opened the screen door first, then nudged the thick wooden front door open with his shoulder.

The inside of the house looked like it had been more recently redone. All the walls were a crisp white, and the wooden floors shined as if they were freshly waxed. In contrast, old picture frames lined the wall of the front hallway, and as we walked by them, I watched Reid age backwards, from his high school graduation all the way down to a floatie-wearing toddler at the beach. There were family pictures, and ones of Lily Lou too, but no football-related pictures to be found.

"One of the first big things I bought when I started making NIL money was a kitchen remodel for my mom," he told me as he led me through the front hallway into the kitchen. Good to know I was as transparent to him as ever.  "Got her all new appliances, all chrome fixtures, and new countertops."

"You really are a mama's boy," I said, giving him a gentle nudge. "But not even in a cringy way, just in a really sweet way."

Reid shrugged as he took the bags from me and put them on the counter. "Speaking of, where is everyone?"

Off to the right side of the kitchen looked to be a small den, where most of the beige couch cushions were missing, and a few pink and purple blankets were draped across the space between the couch and an armchair. While it appeared there was no little girl to be found, there was a video game actively being played on the TV hung on the wall.

"Lily Lou?" Reid ducked under the blanket, and a shriek followed.

"Oh my goodness Reid, you can't sneak up on people like that!" came Lily Lou's voice. "You know, when people wear headphones, it means they don't want to be bothered."

I barked out a laugh, knowing all too well where she got that from.

Lily Lou jumped out of her blanket fort at the sound of my laughter and propelled herself to me. She squeezed me tight, and I'd never felt so loved by a little girl before. "You're here, you're here!"

Reid stood up straight and shrugged. "Chopped liver over here."

"I see you all the time." Lily Lou kept her arms wrapped around my waist as she glared at her brother. She then turned her attention back to me and beamed at me. She was missing the heart-shaped sunglasses she wore last time, opting instead for large pink headphones that were draped around her neck. "Wanna see my fort?"

"We just drove for three and a half hours, I don't think Jo wants to go crawling in there," Reid said as he folded his arms over his chest. "Besides, you know Mom's gonna make you take that down before people get here tomorrow."

"All the more reason to see it now." I shot Reid a conspiratory look, which he responded to with an eye roll.

"You can come too, I guess," Lily Lou told him as she led me around the couches by the hand. Most of the cushions had been repurposed to the fort, and little star-shaped string lights were strung along the edge of the blankets.

"Wow, this is awesome." I lowered myself onto a few cushions. They were soft and well-worn - perfect for a cozy fort. Lily Lou squeezed herself next to me, clutching her pink Nintendo controller to her chest.

"I guess if this football thing doesn't work out, I could be a blanket fort designer." Reid grinned as he laid beside Lily Lou, his broad shoulders precariously close to knocking the entire side wall out.

"I'd almost say that was better." I grinned back at him, and the little lights cast stars across his face.

"Well, I uh...I have to go...clean the corners of the fridge." Lily Lou slid herself out from between us and stood up outside of the fort. "Au revoir."

Reid sighed and shook his head. "She's something else."

I smirked. "Wonder where she gets it from."

He heaved out a heavier sigh before inching himself into the fort as far as his big body would allow, laying across the pillows so that his head was pressed against my arm. "I'm gonna take a nap. I did just drive for several hours."

"Okay, you do that." I reached over and gently threaded my fingers through his hair. After a few moments, a soft snoring started coming from him.

"Oh you're actually sleeping," I chuckled to myself. He was too sweet and too peaceful, I couldn't bear to move him. Instead, I let him rest his head on my arm until it turned to pins and needles, and maybe it was these kinds of things that made the irrational feelings feel as sane and rational as it should be.

━━━━━━

KIDS IN FORT MAKES ME HAPPY!!!

buckle up, because we got two more chapters of this thanksgiving weekend. any thoughts/predictions?

ps; ten chapters to go 🫠