Matt chows down on more chips and then licks his fingers. He tilts the bag towards me, offering me some. I take a peek in the bag and realize there are only two left. I do want them, but I hesitate.

"You sure you want to give me your last chips?"

"Of course," he says without a doubt. "They're all yours."

I shrug and pop the last two in my mouth. That's the thing about Matt. He'll be all smirky and know-it-all-y and then he'll do something sweet that makes you forget how annoying he can be.

Once I finish chewing, Matt folds up the bag in a little square, making sure to press out the creases so they're perfectly flat, and tucks it into his back pocket. See what I mean? Total anal-retentive weirdo.

"Wanna go to the field?" Matt asks.

"The football field? Don't you have tryouts tonight?"

He shrugs.

"I wanna get my nerves out."

"Okay."

I stand up and so does Matt. He begins walking. He walks straight past his garage, where he keeps all his football gear.

"Don't you want to get a ball or something?" I ask, stopping for a second.

Matt just keeps walking.

"Nah."

I shrug and jog to catch up. When we get to the field, the gate to get in is locked, so we have to hop the fence. Matt runs up to it, puts one hand on the top of it, and effortlessly swings his legs over, all in one fluid motion. I struggle and kick my way up. I have to take a break and sit on the top of the fence. Then I ungracefully fall to the other side. I just barely stay on my feet.

"You good?" Matt asks me as I brush off my hands that are filled with dirt after I used them to catch myself from falling.

"Yeah."

My hands are a little scratched, but hey, that's life.

"Then come on."

Matt jogs out to the middle of the field. I don't want to run, but if I don't Matt's going to make me, so I just do it anyway. He stops abruptly and lays on his back. He stretches his arms at his sides and looks up at the sky. I lay so that my head is next to his, but my feet are extended in the opposite direction. The sun shines as brightly as ever, not a cloud in sight.

Matt takes a deep breath.

"You think I'll be okay?"

I turn my head to look at him, but he doesn't look back. He just stares up at the sky.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

I shrug and look back up to the sky myself. He's got to be talking about football. He hasn't stopped talking about football since the end of last season. This is the first year Matt gets to try out for varsity. I honestly think he was good enough to make it last year as a freshman, but his dad didn't want him playing varsity until he was 16 for safety reasons. Matt's only 15 now, but he'll be 16 in December so he managed to convince his dad to bend the rule a little.

"Honestly?"

"No. Lie to me will ya?"

"Well, in that case, I think you're gonna be awful."

"Kiersten," he says and sits up quickly. Slowly, I get up myself, and finally, he looks at me. "I don't think I wanna do good."

"Well."

"Well, what?"

"No, well, not good. In that situation you're supposed to use 'well' not 'good,'" Matt looks away from me again. He couldn't care less about grammar, well ever, but right now especially.

"I don't think I want to be on varsity is what I mean."

"Why not Matt? You've worked so hard. And you kicked serious butt on JV. And you've dreamed of this for, for forever. And...do I have to go on?"

"I know that. And you know that. But, people, they don't," he says. Initially, he doesn't say anything else, but I don't fill in the spaces for him, so he has to explain further.

"If I make varsity people will think it's only because I'm the coach's son. I mean, I'm still pretty small compared to the other guys."

"You have speed. And you're a running back aren't you? Plus, you're tough. What's size if you can't take a hit?"

"Guys with enough size are giving the hits, not taking them."

"So you're worried about getting hurt?"

Honestly, I'm not really following Matt's concerns. I mean, yeah it makes sense that he would worry that people would think that he only made the team because of his dad. But Mr. Purdy's not like that. If Matt wasn't good enough, he'd be the first one to tell him. And once Matt starts playing, no one would be thinking he's not good enough. And he's never been worried about getting hurt before. Matt has an abnormal disregard for his own physical well-being.

"No, of course not," he says and then sighs. "It's just I don't know, what if people don't think I deserve it?"

"But you do. Who cares if people don't think you do?"

"Because I don't know." He sighs. He wants so badly for me to just nod and get it. Most of the time that's how Matt and I work, but not this time.

"Because first people were giving my dad crap for getting my mom pregnant. Then they were happy for a while and people started to accept it you know? But then my mom left, and well, I don't want to give people more to talk about."

I nod. Now it makes sense. Not everyone has been cruel to Mr. Purdy, and some don't even do it intentionally, but it still happens. Living in a small town, people talk and sometimes it can be hurtful. Personally, I think it bothers Matt more than Mr. Purdy.

"If your dad's not worried about it, then I don't think you should be," I say to try to reassure him.

Matt shrugs and stands up. He holds out his hands for me. I smile, he smiles back. I take his hands graciously. Matt pulls me up a little too strongly and a little quickly, so I kind of bump into him. He puts his hand on the small of my back, steadying me.

"Sorry," he says softly. "You okay?"

I nod and pull away from him and try to ignore the strange fluttery feeling in my stomach.

"Yeah," I say "What about you? You okay?"

Matt runs his hand through his hair, shakes the hair on the back of his head, and kicks the dirt.

"I'm alright I think," he says and starts walking away. "I'm just...concerned."

"Don't be. You'll be great," I say.

"Thanks," he says with a laugh and jumps over the fence in that same effortless fashion.

God, that drives me crazy. I do my own little awkward thing trying to get myself on top of the fence at the very least. All the while, Matt's looking at me and smiling at me fondly.

"You need help?" He asks, mocking me.

"No," I say stubbornly and try to heave my leg over the fence.

It doesn't work. This fence is a tough little guy. I take a step back and try to come up with some sort of strategy. I could always do as Matt does and run-up to it and magically make it to the other side. But somehow I feel like I would end up with a busted ankle.

"I gotta get back for practice, you know."

"What do you mean you have to get back? You're already here."

"Just let me help you," he says with a laugh.

I think it over. Weigh my options. Take one last attempt at conquering the fence. I did it once before, didn't I? Maybe that was just luck. Maybe.

"Kiersten!" Matt laughs again, shorter, but louder than last time.

"Fine. Help me, oh strong and noble prince."

"No need to get snippy," he says, but approaches the fence. "Can you get up on top?"

"What do you think I was trying to do in the first place?" I snap, playfully.

"Sorry, sorry." He thinks. "Put your feet in the bottom holes." I do that and use the top of the fence for balance. "Take another two steps up." Matt holds onto my arms now, just for extra assurance. "Don't freak out."

Oh, god, what's that mean?

Matt puts his hands just above my ribs and pulls me up above the fence. My feet drag making little click-click noises against the fence. I place my hands on Matt's shoulders so he doesn't drop me or something. His shoulders are strong, I can feel the muscles contracting under the soft cotton of his shirt.

"Pick your feet up," he orders gently.

"Oh, sorry," I say and do as he asked. He steps back as I lift my feet just high enough to clear the fence. I squeal involuntarily.

"Don't worry I gotcha," he puts me down, a little less than gently, but safely onto the ground.

"Thanks, Matty," I say with his arms still around me.

He shrugs and turns on his heel.

"Let's get back, huh?"