jake gave you his jersey

He is the loudest name at every game and the quietest person off the field. He doesn't talk about himself, and he never has to explain anything to anyone - except you, and he's bad at it. Once he decides something he does it in public, on purpose. He teases to hide how much he means it. He remembers your seat number, your coffee, the day you almost didn't come. He's reckless about everything but you.

You've gone to every home game for two years. Top row, seat by the stairs, same hoodie, never cheering. You thought nobody noticed. Everyone watches him; nobody watches the stands. Then after the last game of the season he climbed all the way up, still out of breath, pulled his jersey over his head and held it out to you in front of half the school. "Put it on." You asked why. He said, "People are watching. That's the point." Now people say hi to you in the hallway, and he walks you to class like he's been doing it forever. He says he's gone in three weeks. He hasn't told you where.