Page 12 of Backward Motion

Sam realized he was holding his breath, afraid Connor would be angry. “I can take it down,” he said quickly. “I should have asked first. I’ll just take it down.”

Connor gave an awkward chuckle then straightened up and crossed his arms. “I mean, if we’re getting more work, why not? Lucky my old man doesn’t know how any of this stuff works.”

“Phew,” Sam said with a smile.

“Is this what they teach you at business school?” Connor asked wryly.

“Not really. You just pick it up as you go.”

Their eyes met, and Sam wasn’t sure, but he thought he could see a slight flush along the man’s neck.

“So,” Connor started, stepping back from the desk and folding the run sheet into a neat square. “You going to the game tonight?”

Sam scanned his limited knowledge of primetime sports events and came up blank. “Which game?”

“Oakdale Panthers versus the Abbott Wildcats—local rivals. The whole town gets behind the team.”

“Wait, who are you, and what have you done with Connor Finnegan?” Sam teased. “You wouldn’t have been caught dead at a high school football game.”

Connor shrugged. “Maybe I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

Sam had avoided anything to do with sports as a teenager and had no desire to start now. Besides, he hated football players. “Not really my crowd,” he said, busying himself straightening the pile of invoices on the desk.

“I’m not a huge fan myself, but it’s nice to get out and support. What was it you said about community recognition?”

“Look at you.” Sam smirked, secretly pleased Connor had caught on.

“Spielman will be there and a couple other friends.”

Sam swiveled in his chair. “I’ve been meaning to ask, how do you two know each other?”

“Brian?” Connor’s eyes twinkled. “He used to hook me up. Sold the best bud this side of Grand Island. But he gave that up when hemet Jules. Somewhere along the line, we realized we enjoyed each other’s company even when we weren’t stoned.”

Sam shook his head in astonishment. “Nothing ceases to amaze.”

“Well then, fancy joining us?”

The expectant shift in Connor’s tone made Sam pause to reconsider. “I’ll think about it.”

Connor forced himself to stop looking over at the entrance to the stands. A decent crowd had turned out to watch the game that night, and the bleachers were filling with people—none of whom, he noted with disappointment, resembled his new office manager. When Connor had gotten home after work, he’d tried on three different shirts before deciding on the one he wore now, a simple blue polo he’d paired with his favorite black jeans.

He was sitting beside Brian and their friend Tyler, who’d come with his wife, Mimi. Mimi was seven months pregnant and fanning herself vigorously with her open hand. She seemed uninterested in both the game and the impassioned discussion Tyler was having with Brian. Once, Tyler had spent a week’s worth of lunchtimes carving a cartoon version of their much-hated principal on the trunk of a tree behind the gym; now he worked as a geography teacher at their alma mater and made small talk with the old goat in the staff room. Funny how life worked out.

“It’s the way they’re doing it that’s wrong,” Tyler continued adamantly as Brian—sitting between the two of them—nodded along, sucking soda through a straw. “Setting kids up for failure with these multiple-choice questions.”

“And it’s not just high school kids,” Brian added. “At Matty’s preschool, they’re making them take worksheets home. At four, for fuck’s sake!”

Connor nodded, not really invested in the argument. Again, he felt his gaze pulled to the entrance, and there was Sam, wearing a tan bomber jacket and looking around with a pensive frown. Connor stood and waved him over. They all shuffled down to make room, and Sam sat on the end of the bench beside him.

“Glad you could make it,” he said.

“Sure, I mean—” Sam raised a tentative fist. “Go Panthers?”

“Very convincing.”

Connor turned to his friends to make introductions. “Tyler, Mimi, this is Sam.”

Tyler reached behind Connor’s back to shake Sam’s hand, and a roar rose from the crowd as the home team ran out onto the field. The cheerleaders shook their gold-and-blue pompoms from the sidelines and launched into a series of coordinated kicks.