“I’m good. I’ll just sit on the ground. I like sitting this way, really,” I say, falling back to sit comfortably and pulling my legs in tight.
I reach up to tilt the viewer on my camera so I can see, but stop on Nico’s face. He smirks. Dimple deep and eyes shadowed by his dark lashes, he’s the devastating kind of handsome.
“I like your shirt,” I gesture, not wanting to linger on the fact that, once again, he was looking at me. “Does it mean something?”
Nico glances down, then holds his hand over the gray X, his palm resting flat, covering it whole.
“X marks the spot,” he says with a slight chuckle. My lip tugs up, smiling on one side of my mouth. “My brother gave it to me. I was too little to wear it at the time, but now that I’ve grown into it…”
His eyes twinkle when he looks back up at me. I’ve often thought the twinkle was something made up, a thing that only happened in cartoons and fairytales, but I was wrong, because Nico’s eyes dance, and they twinkle. I bet they do a lot of things.
“You and your brother…” I start, pausing to think through my words, not wanting to hit on something that’s a sore spot. Or at least not without entering into it delicately. “Are you…close with your brother?”
Nico’s smile stays in place for a few seconds, but slips into less of one as he leans back and folds his hands behind his neck.
“Vincent…is…” He stops, his eyes lost to the sky behind me as his head shakes slightly and his lips pull in tight. When his gaze lands on me again, I sit up higher, lifting myself to a large garden stone so it doesn’t look like Nico’s staring down during the whole video.
“Vincent has made a lot of mistakes,” Nico says, finally, and as much as he’s content to leave things there, my curiosity kicks swiftly.
“What kind of mistakes?” I ask, my brow pulling in. I wrap my arms around my knees and force myself to listen quietly, my ears also testing to make sure the TV is still on behind the now-closed front door of his home.
Nico looks up again, his teeth holding on to the tip of his tongue, his eyes just over my shoulder. His mouth opens with a breath, but his chest falls soon after, and he sucks in his top lip, looking back to me. His eyes close and he shakes his head just enough to signal that this line—it’s off limits.
“Okay,” I say, the breeze picking up and blowing strands of my hair over my face. I left it down again today. I haven’t put it up again since Nico said he liked it this way.
I glance at the screen for my camera, our eyes meeting this way—in black and white. Nico blinks slowly, eventually shifting his weight and looping one arm over the side of the chair, sitting with one of his legs pulled in. I notice he’s still only wearing socks, and the sweetness of it makes me smile. He’s at home here.
With me.
“How about we talk about football?” I ask.
“That sounds good,” he grins.
“Who taught you how to play? I can tell…you…what you do, rather. It isn’t just street ball,” I say. “Where did you hone your skills?”
Nico leans forward, rubbing his hands together with a smile.
“My uncles,” he says, through a chuckle. “My dad…he was never really around. I don’t even remember him, really. But my mom’s brothers more than made up for it. They had a ball in my hands from the time I was a tiny kid. We had a team in West End, like…Pop Warner or whatever. We held carwashes for uniforms and all of that. I played until I was ten or eleven, and then my Uncle Joe had a heart attack. I kind of lost interest after that. So did Uncle Danny. I played for fun…ya know…with Sasha and the boys? But…I was done with the real thing.”
“Until now…” I say, my smile pulling up on one side.
Nico’s expression mirrors mine, and he settles back into his chair again.
“Well, there’s this girl…” he starts, and my heart doubles its rhythm. “She can be kind of…persuasive.”
“Ha!” My laugh comes out automatically. “I wish I could persuade you. Nico Medina, arguing with you has been the bane of my high school existence.”
His smirk lingers, and his eyes close in on me.
“You love arguing with me…and you know it,” he says, his tongue pushing out the side of his mouth, just below his lower lip. I bite the inside of my cheek and stare him down, eventually shaking my head with a sigh.
“So your Uncle…Danny?” I glance back up to confirm I have his name right. Nico lets me loose from his stare and nods, looking down at his hands again, pressing his fingertips against one another and flexing. “Did he come to your game?”
Nico’s smile grows fast.