Free Heart on a Chain by Cindy C Bennett Page B

over. She’s glaring at me. The ferocity of her look stuns me. Her gaze never wavers, even though her friends are talking animatedly to her. She must have been watching me for some time because none of them even seem to notice her concentration, or look to see what she’s looking at.
    I quickly turn forward, eyes on the game, but my mind on her. I’m not sure why she hates me so much. I have tried very hard to stay out of her way and to not aggravate her any more than necessary. Apparently, my showing up to a football game is enough to rekindle her hatred in full.
    I try to follow the game, but now it’s as if I can feel her eyes on me. Quick looks back confirm that she’s still watching. After a few peeks, Henry glances down at me, then behind me to see what I’m looking at, then back at me.
    “ Everything okay?” he asks.
    I look back and see that she’s suddenly, intently interested in the conversation around her. My eyes narrow in suspicion.
    I smile up at Henry. “Yeah, everything’s great.”
    He smiles back at me. Our team scores a touchdown and his attention is drawn back to the field, whistling and cheering. I take a quick peek back and see that she’s once again glaring daggers at me. I sigh. It would be nice to have just one easy day in my life.
     
    Our team ends up winning in a very exciting tie-breaking field goal. The kicker is hoisted up onto his teammate’s shoulders and carried off the field like that, the cheerleaders are jumping up and down, people are high-fiving and yelling—and all of that goes away when Henry pulls me into an impromptu celebratory hug, pulling my feet up off the ground as he holds me. I wrap my arms around his neck for security at the suddenly weightless sensation.
    The feel of his warm solid body pressed tightly against mine is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. It’s simply a bear hug to him, but in that moment I know that whatever consequences I’ll face if my absence is found out will be well worth this moment.
    It takes some time to make our way down from the stands with all of the celebrating going on. At one point Henry’s hand is ripped from mine by the flowing tide so he tucks me under his arm, holding me tightly against his side. After a minute or two of trying to figure out what to do with my hand that’s awkwardly trapped between us, I wrap it lightly around his waist.
    Once we move out of the crowd, he might have released me, but instead he retains his hold. We reach his car and he relinquishes his hold to dig his keys out of his pocket. The loss of his heat and the cool fall night air cause me to shiver.
    “ You cold?” he asks.
    I wrap my arms around me.
    “ A little, but I’ll survive.”
    “ Here, I have a jacket…” He opens his trunk, pulling out a zip-front hoodie. I push my arms into the way-too-large jacket. He reaches forward and zips it up, then rubs his hands up and down my arms.
    “ Better?”
    “ Yes, thanks. What about you, though?”
    “ I hardly ever get cold. My mom says my dad and I have built in furnaces.”
    He opens the car door, shuts it behind me, and jogs around to his side. He starts the car, taking some time to turn the heat on.
    “ Did you like the game?” he asks as we work our way out of the parking lot, which is still jam packed with kids just sitting in their cars, flashing their lights and honking their horns.
    “ Yeah, I really did.”
    “ You figured it out pretty quickly. My dad watches football on TV all the time, but after all these years Mom still has no idea how it works.” This complaint is given with that same amused frustration I’ve heard before when he talks about her. I wonder how it would be to have a mom worthy of such love.
    Even more, I wonder how it would be to be the recipient of such an emotion from Henry.
    “ It was a lot of fun. I’m really glad I came. Thank you for asking me.”
    He reaches across the seat and squeezes my hand which lies in my lap, and continues to hold my