As promised, I showed up at Nicholas's game the next night. The game was supposed to start at seven, so at quarter to eight, after staring at my closet for half an hour, I finally left the house.

The parking lot where the game was being held was busier than I had expected. Apparently there were more Rugby fans in Toronto than I had expected. Finally, I found a spot at the end of the parking lot and went in.

Like outside, I was once again surprised at how busy it was. I paid my admission, and found a spot near the top of the bleachers and tried to understand what was going on. I couldn't. I did, however, find Nicholas.

He couldn't see me from where he was standing (I was too far up), but I had a clear view of him. He was standing to the side, breathing heavily, laughing with someone in the same colour shirt as his. The ref blew a whistle, and he started running. The was some throwing and confusion, but the next thing I knew he was tackling a guy who looked at least twice his size.

This scared me again. He was older. He was bigger. And he was definitely stronger. What was I doing with him? I'd been down this road before. And I'd ignored the feelings in my gut telling me to be careful. Where had it left me? It had left me with something taken that no amount of therapy could ever get it back. I lost my innocence in more ways than one. And here I was, all over again, setting myself up for disaster.

"Are you okay?" a girl sitting beside me asked. I looked over at her.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look like much of a rugby fan," she said.

I shook my head. "I'm not, really."

She smiled. "Let me guess. Your boyfriend's on the team?"

I thought a minute before answering. "Something like that."

She laughed. "I'm Alicia," she said, extending her hand. I shook it and introduced myself.

"So your boyfriend's on the team?"

"Fiancé," she corrected. "There a whole group of us. Girlfriends and fiancees and wives who come out and watch. A couple of them are into the game, but mostly we keep each other company and try to figure out what's going on enough to talk about it later."

I laughed. "Do you succeed?"

"Once every couple of weeks. So which one is he?"

"Huh?"

"Your boyfriend-or-something-like-it. Which one is it?" I looked down and pointed him out.

"Nicholas, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Now there's a great guy."

I had to look at her to see if she was serious or not. She seemed to be. "Do you know him?"

She nodded. "You get to know the guys pretty well after awhile."

"Any secrets you can let me in on?"

She shrugged. "There's nothing you wouldn't already know. He's a little less macho than the other guys. . . um. . . he doesn't bring girls around that often. I think you're the first."

"Is that strange?"

"Nah, I think it's sweet. All the other guys are quick to parade their girlfriends around. He's not really like that." Neither of us said anything. "He's hot."

I looked at her and laughed. "Yeah, he is." There was a series of gasps and boos from the stadium, and Alicia and I looked out onto the field. Nicholas was lying flat on his back with people crowding around him.

"Shit," Alicia said, getting up. "Let's go see what happened."

I nodded, my heart pounding. From where we were sitting, it didn't look like he was moving. I tried pushing through the crowd, but no one would move. I looked helplessly at Alicia. She cleared her throat.

"Excuse me," she shouted with enough command that most people looked back at her. "Move out of the way." She raised her eyebrows, challenging anyone to mess with her. Some turned back, but most made enough room for us to get through. When I looked back on the situation, I was impressed.

She led me through the crowd, then out onto the field, where the security guard didn't even question her. He opened his mouth to say something to me, but she shouted something about me being with her. We made it over to Nicholas, where he was fully conscious, still on his back, talking to the coach.

"I'm fine," he said. "It's not like I've never been hit in the head before."

"You lost consciousness," the coach said firmly. "Give it another minute, and then you're sitting out the rest of the game."

"I'm fine," he said again. His eyes turned over to look at me, and he grinned. "Hey."

"Are you okay?" I asked, kneeling down beside him. Everything was reversed from how it usually was, one of us injured from a metaphorical wound. My heart was still pounding, not quite over the shock of seeing him unconscious on the field. Just after thinking that I shouldn't be with him, my biggest fear became something happening to him. What was wrong with me?

"You should see the other guy," he laughed, but winced slightly in pain. He turned back to the coach. "Can I get up now?"

"You can get up, but you're not playing."

"Come on. I'm fine."

The coach turned to me. "Can you talk some sense into him?"

"That's not fair!" Nicholas exclaimed with a smile.

"And why's that?"

"You can't use my girlfriend against me."

"Fine," the coach replied. "Then save yourself some time." The coach stood up and brushed off his knees. "God knows none of the guys on this team have the balls to stand up to their women."

I heard Alicia start laughing behind me. I suppressed a giggle. Slowly, he propped himself up onto his elbows, then shakily stood up.

"You were going to continue playing, huh?" Alicia asked.

Nicholas smiled, but grimaced as he walked forward. The rest of the team had mostly turned to watch the guy who'd hit Nicholas fighting with the ref. "Do you wanna get out of here?" he asked me.

I nodded. "Sure." Slowly, we made our way to the exit. He insisted he was fine, and would never have let me help him, which in all honesty, I was grateful for. He was all sweaty.

"I'll get my stuff and I'll meet you out here, okay?"

"Yeah. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said again. "All I did was hit my head."

"Good." I smiled, then added, "It's not like there's anything breakable in there."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I waited for him and worried. I couldn't help it. I also kept replaying his one line over in my head, analysing and overanalysing his one line, 'you can't use my girlfriend against me'. Was that where we were? His girlfriend? Was I okay with that?

"Ready to go?" Nicholas asked.

I jumped and turned around. "Yeah." He was still wearing his uniform, and there was now a bump visible, partially covered by his hairline. He looked pale, and seemed wobbly.

"Are you okay to drive?" I asked him nervously.

He nodded, but I wasn't convinced. "I promised to take you out for dinner tonight."

I watched him for a minute, then decided that he didn't get a vote in the matter. I wasn't going to risk losing anyone else in a car accident. "No," I told him. "You can take me out another time. I'm taking you home."

He didn't disagree. We got to my car, and I pulled out of the parking lot in silence. He rested his head against the window. "Which way?" I asked.

He gave me some basic directions, then returned to silence. I turned up the radio and let the sounds of Jack Johnson fill the car. I sang along softly, and I felt Nicholas watching me, a slight smile on his face. The song ended, and I turned it down.

"So," I finally said, not allowing myself to look at him, concentrating on the road ahead. "What you said back there. . ."

"It was the concussion talking if I said anything stupid," he said jokingly. "What did I say?"

"Something about using your girlfriend against you."

"Turn right here," he said, and once again we drove in silence.

"Is that what we are?" I finally asked.

He smiled. "I think that's up to you. But could you give me a hint?"

"Then, I guess we are." I kept my attention on the road, but I couldn't help grinning. We drove the rest of the way with comfortable silence, the occasional joke or singing along thrown in.

"Sorry I ruined our plans today," he said as I pulled up in front of his apartment building. "I promise I'll really take you out next time."

"It's not your fault," I told him. "But, you may have to surrender to Second Cup for awhile."

He grinned, and leaned in closer. "If that's what it takes to make you happy, you've got it."

This time, even kissing him felt different, like suddenly everything had been made clear. I was his girlfriend. He was my boyfriend. There was no question about it. We were together. And if it had taken me a head injury to realize it, so be it.