We spend the rest of the afternoon watching the world’s most boring game, with me asking endless questions about this supposedly life altering sport, trying to understand what people are so fascinated about. Ryker answers me patiently, not seeming at all bothered about my ignorance over his favourite thing in the world, in fact he seems to be enjoying my interest.
Now, we’re back in Ryker’s truck, the firefighter taking me back to town so I can pick up my mother’s car. Pulling up behind the stationary vehicle, Ryker puts the truck in park, the two of us sitting side by side tensely.
‘Well . . . thanks for the lunch and the football game . . . it was . . . great’ I mutter, reaching for the door.
‘Will I see you tomorrow?’ Ryker asks softly, staring out of the windscreen as I hesitate.
‘
