"¡Buen día!" I called cheerfully as I approached Jessica in the dining hall.

She jumped. 9 am breakfast wasn't early, but Jessica had been slumped over the table. I, on the other hand, had been up for more than an hour and had even gotten started on my readings for the following week.

"Why do you sound so chipper?" Jessica groaned into her cup of coffee.

I shrugged, still smiling widely, and dropped my bag and jacket on the chair opposite my best friend. "I got a good night's sleep with sweet dreams."

At the mention of this, she perked up and grinned mischievously. "Ooh, did that 'dream' appear in bed?"

"Yes, Jessica. In my own room, when I was alone and asleep. Get your mind out of the gutter."

Reluctantly, she peeled herself off her chair and followed me to the buffet. The weekend croissant was my choice to change up my granola routine while Jessica made herself a breakfast burrito. I filled the remaining space on my plate with tofu scramble and scrambled egg on which I sprinkled some grated cheese. Living in a cheese state had its perks: so many varieties of real dairy cheese every day. Vegetarian I could easily do, but if Mother Nature had wanted me to be vegan, she should not have let humankind create cheese.

"Morning, Grace," a male voice behind me greeted.

I turned around to find Aidan heaping his plate with plain tofu from the salad bar. He may have been an athlete, but no one had this enormous of a need for protein.

"Hey, Aidan."

"Didn't see you at the game last weekend, or the weekend before. And you haven't been coming to pregames. Everything okay?"

"No, yeah, totally," I strung together with great effort. "I've been busy. Midterms, you know how it is."

"I don't blame you. It was probably for the best to lay low for a while." His green eyes conveyed the deeper meaning of his words. Great. The only question was: did everyone know or only Aidan? And Greg and Linh? And Devin? Okay, basically everyone was already aware. Fan-flippin'-tastic.

"That being said," he continued and scratched his scalp through his thick, dark hair, "I hope you can make it this afternoon. We're playing Tufts in the quarterfinals, they're this year's top contender for the NESCACs. And bring your friends. We could use all the support we can get."

"Um, yeah, sure. What time is it again, 1:30?"

I knew full well when it was. And I had not been planning on going. Attending soccer games was the opposite of laying low.

"Yep. See you there! Can't wait."

"What was that about?" Jessica had materialized beside me, eyebrows arched.

"Looks like we're going to the soccer game this afternoon. I'll ask Liam."

"Gracie, I guarantee you Liam doesn't want to come."

"They're my friends. He needs to get over himself."

***

The early November wind made us glad to be wrapped up in our winter coats if we were to be sitting in the bleachers for 90 minutes. The guys were running laps around the field to warm up. Meanwhile, I was shivering even through the layers I had put on. Liam's hands holding mine helped some. They would have been even warmer stuffed into my lined pockets, but I didn't want to be rude.

Jessica was seated to my right at the end of the bleachers. A power session of homework in the library after breakfast had enabled us to watch the game without too much guilt. Through a lucky turn of fate, one of my classes and thus the readings for it had been canceled on Friday so I would be able to enjoy a mostly free Sunday, too. It felt good to be ahead on my assignments for once.

From the third row in which we were sitting, I spotted Linh in the first row with the preppy soccer girlfriends where she looked out of place like a glitter marker in a box of regular black sharpies. When we locked eyes, I pulled my hand from Liam's to beckon her to join us. She looked around if there was any reason to refuse my offer, but realized the others wouldn't care where she sat, so she grabbed her purse and navigated her way up the bleachers to sit to Liam's left.

"Hey, Linh," called Jessica in her usual friendly manner.

"Hey, all," Linh responded and then addressed me: "I'm so glad you're here. Janine can't make it today and I don't know the other girlfriends and they're not very welcoming. Not like that's news. Were you busy these past weekends?"

"Um, kind of. Studying and stuff, spending some time with these people." I pointed at Liam and Jessica.

"Sorry," interjected Liam and stretched out his hand to Linh. "I don't think we've been introduced. I'm Liam, Grace's boyfriend."

If Linh was surprised, she didn't let on, but instead shook his hand. Then again, word traveled fast at a small school. Aidan had probably told Greg about our encounter at The Indian Experience, who had then told Linh. I would overthink the implications of this lack of secrecy later. Now, however, it was time for the game.

And what a game it was. The guys were struggling to gain the ball all throughout the first half. Only one chance at a goal was unusual for their strong offensive. Tufts was a tough opponent and the pressure on our men regarding this very match had been built up all season. They were tense like a bowstring right before shooting the arrow. Greg and the other midfielders lost more passes than necessary. Aidan's defense was outdribbled several times. John tripped over his own feet once during an attack on Tufts' goal and fell. He wasn't injured, but I still winced at the force he threw into his fist when he punched the astroturf. To say this game was not going as they had hoped was an understatement.

Despite this thriller of a game, the tinny tap tap tap of Liam's shoe on the metal bleachers drilled into my brain. He constantly stretched his back and looked around as if anything was more interesting than the game. Soccer normally didn't make me jump out of my seat either, but this game did. I softly put my hand on his thigh, just above his knee, to silence his foot. Sighing, he relented and placed his gloved hand over mine.

Linh began to get frustrated when they substituted a sophomore for Greg shortly before halftime. By the time the referee blew the halftime whistle, the guys were only behind by one goal, but had broken more than one sweat trying to keep up with the Jumbos. Slowly, the players walked back to the sideline for their team huddle. They didn't speak to one another, only a pat on the neck was exchanged here and there. Their exhaustion was etched into their frowns.

"It's starting to rain." Liam's request was only for me to hear.

"It's starting to drizzle, and I don't mind."

His voice lowered even further in a plea for me to also speak more quietly. "You don't want to catch a cold."

His words were innocent, caring even, but the implication was clear: Let's go.

"I'm willing to take that risk to be here for my friends."

I knew it was an important, if not the most important, game of the season and the guys needed our support. If they managed to beat Tufts, they would make it to the NESCAC semifinals the following weekend. If not, they would be done for the season.

I wouldn't let them down.

Grudgingly, he mumbled a 'fine' and suggested to Jessica to check out the concessions stand. A good idea, it would help take out some of the steam that was beginning to build between us.

Linh would have made a great sports podcaster with the way she used halftime to analyze the guys' performances and talked sports psychology to me. While it was difficult, the team needed to ignore the league and tournament and use tunnel vision to focus exclusively on this game, she said.

More people had come out today than usual. There were, of course, the preppy soccer girlfriends in the first row, dressed in school colors and with adorable blue and white scrunchies or bows in their hair. There were a few professors with their partners and young children who had been put into kid-sized college jerseys. There were quite a few athletes from different disciplines—I could make out water polo, baseball, and hockey off the bat. The soccer team knew how to mobilize their friends and classmates and I had seen posters asking for support all over campus. They had featured goofy shots of the players with captions such as: 'Come see this stunner and the men's soccer team sweat for a victory against Tufts this Saturday at 1:30 pm at South Street Field!' I feared if they lost today, John's frustration would increase proportional to the turnout. He already felt humiliated losing at beer pong with five spectators.

John's first half of the game had been a mixed bag, but I loved watching him play. His movements were smooth, yet strong. The way he coordinated his turns according to the location and cover of his teammates was precise and deliberate. His senses were sharpened to focus fully on the game—a focus he would never achieve in class, much to his own dismay.

Linh was looking up Greg's stats on the athletics website when Liam and Jessica returned with two red-and-white paper trays of fries and two hot chocolates. By how he plopped down beside me, Liam made it clear he was still annoyed. Regardless, he carefully handed me the cup of hot chocolate. "Share?"

I supposed it was nice that he stayed for me, but his foul mood still irked me. Reluctantly, I accepted the chocolate from him and took a small sip, immediately burning myself. Pain pulsed through the tip of my tongue as I handed back the paper cup, but the alternative, refusing the beverage, would have provoked a public fight.

"Is it good?" Liam's voice was low.

"Yes, thank you."

As hard as I tried, I couldn't keep the sourness out of my tone entirely.

"Not too hot?"

"Just right."

Jessica's watchful eyes had followed our exchange, growing increasingly restless in her seat.

"Linh, what do you miss most about Vietnam apart from your family and friends?"

Exhaling, I sent a silent thank you to my best friend. With the two girls framing Liam and me on the stands, any further escalation of the tension was prevented by their friendly conversation.

John's girlfriend wasn't here today. Realization struck me as my eyes scanned the bleachers again. It had taken me a long time to notice with Liam's and my little drama going on, but she was definitely not at the field. Was she tied up elsewhere or were they fighting? Suddenly I was way too curious for something that didn't concern me.

He's my friend, it's called caring about him.

"A penny for your thoughts," said Liam and leaned in a bit more.

Godda— Stop. I had no right to be mad right now. I had asked Liam to come to the game, knowing it wasn't his cup of tea, and had gotten irritated when he had gotten bored. What is wrong with me?

Hoping my voice was even, I replied: "If they win today, the soccer team is competing in the NESCAC semifinals next week."

"Okay. Where is it at?"

"Amherst."

"Are you going to go?"

"I don't think a lot of fans go. I'd have to ask—" I refrained from saying John's name at the last minute and instead corrected my pitch at the end of the sentence: "I'd have to ask."

"I was thinking, if you don't end up going to Massachusetts, we can finally go hiking like we talked about. I barely see you on weekends anyway."

Huh? He did see me on weekends. And we had only mentioned going hiking once, without making concrete plans. I was confused.

"Uh, I can't make any promises right now because I don't know how crazy homework and midterm studying will be next week. We have that dreadful Early Republic exam coming up."

"It'd be nice to see you more."

My stomach sank. That was how I made him feel? Abandoned, neglected? God, I really was the worst. And it would have to change starting right now.

"You're right, hiking would be more fun. We'll have to see about the weather, but I'd like to," I offered as a conciliatory gesture.

Just as quickly as it had come, Liam's frown went andturned into a smile. Satisfied, he nodded right as the referee's whistle rangin the second half of the game.