The Cheat Sheet

by Adams, Sarah

  Once she’s gone and the door closes behind her, Lily turns to me. “I have never been more proud of you in my life.” Well, good, because I’m literally shaking now that it’s all over. “All that woman needed was a fur coat and she’d be a Disney villain. Also, where is Nathan’s dad?”

  “He has a big meeting tomorrow that he wants to be rested for. He told Nathan he’d catch part of the game on TV.”

  Lily blinks. “You’re kidding me.”

  “I wish.”

  Nathan has worked so hard to please his parents, and here he is, at the Super Bowl for the second time, and his dad doesn’t even bother to show because he needs to wash his hair and get his beauty sleep.

  Lily and I walk down the three little stairs that lead from the entertaining area of the box to the leather seats in front of the glass. The stadium is rapidly filling with fans all decked out in conflicting colors of black and silver, orange and navy. Energy sparks through the stadium like fireworks. My own anticipation is bubbling through me, fancy champagne style.

  Nathan (and his team, but seriously who cares about them) will run through that tunnel shortly, and this stadium will go wild. They hold signs with his name on it, wearing jerseys printed with his number, and the opposing fans fear him and what he will do today. His name will be on the tongues of thousands. Chanted and screamed. Everyone speculates, What is Nathan Donelson like in real life?

  But I know.

  I know about the green bottle of shampoo, and that he’s scared of flying. I know he can keep a secret better than Lily the summer a bottle of wine mysteriously went missing from my parents’ wine fridge, and I know Nathan’s sheets feel butter soft against my skin. He is mine, and my heart fist-pumps at the thought.

  Mrs. Donelson returns a little later with a fresh drink, and we all sit in terribly awkward silence. She taps her long manicured nails against the plastic armrest, and we’re all dying for this game to begin. The long point of her high heel vibrates back and forth. Lily and I keep making discreet torture faces back and forth behind her back.

  Finally, the announcers boom over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to welcome the NFC Champions, the LA Sharks!”

  The stadium flares with screams, and camera crews swarm. It’s showtime. I’m on the edge of my seat as the dense fog and bright lights fill the front of the Sharks’ tunnel.

  And there they are.

  Nathan emerges first with the team on his heels. They sprint through the fog with a self-confidence that shivers over everyone’s skin. In this moment, I don’t care what you think about the sport—you want to be these athletes.

  Jamal flexes both arms and gladiator-yells. Other men are fist-pumping and air-kicking their way across the field to their bench. Nathan is quietly Nathan. He runs out with steel in his veins, unflappable as always. When he’s on the fifty-yard line, he stops and his helmet tilts up. I can feel his eyes on me as if his fingers were trailing across my skin. He smiles for the first time and lifts his arm to wave at me. And then he points. The universal gesture of This is for you, love. I make a goofy face then blow him a kiss. He catches it. Fans turn and zero their laser-beam eyes on me—but all I care about is Nathan.

  During halftime, Lily and Mrs. Donelson are attempting to chitchat, but since Lily is talking through clenched teeth, I’m assuming it’s probably not going well. I’ve slipped away into the snack bar area of the box to stare at my phone just in case Nathan gets a minute to text me.

  “…it’s because he’s been…distracted lately,” says Mrs. Donelson in a not-so-veiled attempt to blame the fact that the Sharks are down by a touchdown on me. I select a cookie from the table and take a large bite. Mmm, chocolate chips.

  Lily feels the need to go to bat for me and Nathan—which is adorable and hilarious to me because I don’t waste one feeling on Vivian. “Distractions are good for humans. I think his distractions are what helped him evade that sack in the second quarter.” A bit of a reach, Lil, but the gesture is sweet.

  Mrs. Donelson huffs. I continue to eat my cookie. “Not likely. He looks sluggish today. I don’t think he’s been spending enough time training.”

  “I don’t think you’ve been spending enough time telling him he is doing a great job!!”

  Whoa, that escalated quickly. Lily stands. Mrs. Donelson stands. These women are about to throw down, and I’m just back here enjoying my cookie.

  My phone buzzes so I turn away and get lost in conversation with my favorite person.

  * * *

  Nathan: Hi. How’s your day going?

  Me: Oh, fine. How’s yours?

  Nathan: Pretty boring. Nothing’s really happening. I miss you.

  * * *

  Mrs. Donelson’s voice cuts through my thoughts briefly. “I push him because I love him!”

  * * *

  Me: Same. Same.

  Nathan: Are we still on for our plans later?

  * * *

  “THAT IS NOT LOVE,” Lily shouts.

  “And just how long have you been a mom, missy?”

  “Don’t missy me!”

  * * *

  Me: Our elopement? Oh yeah, I totally forgot about that. Sounds good though.

  * * *

  I love that we’re joking like this. Behind me a daytime soap opera is unfolding, and Nathan and I are pretending we’re going to elope.

  * * *

  Nathan: Perfect. Well, my boss says I gotta get back to work. Love you.

  Me: Love you!! Go kick your fellow employees’ asses!

  Nathan: *shark emoji*

  * * *

  I turn around to the sight of Mrs. Donelson and Lily hugging. What the hell did I miss?!

  We’ve all been holding our breath for the last ten minutes. This game is so tight. Currently, the score is 21-17, Sharks down by four. There are only thirty seconds left on the clock, and it’s fourth down. They need to get a first down in order to have a chance at winning, and they have no timeouts left. The stress in this stadium is palpable, and I honestly can’t imagine the pressure Nathan has on his shoulders right now as he sees the clock running out.

  Both teams get into formation quickly, and then the ball is snapped to Nathan. He shuffles on his feet a few times, looking for an open receiver, but there’s not one. My heart hammers as I watch him tuck the ball under his arm and run. He has no choice but to try to get the first down himself.

  At first, things look promising, but then, as if I’m seeing it all in slow motion, a defensive player busts through the line and plows into Nathan, laying him flat on his back.

  The ball is knocked loose. Fumbled. Game over.

  A collective gasp tremors through the stadium, and all of our shoulders sink. The player who tackled Nathan stands and extends his hand to help him up. I sigh with audible relief when Nathan takes it and stands unharmed.

  I realize at that moment that I’m stuck to the glass wall like a bug on a windshield. Peeling myself free, I turn to face my sister and Nathan’s mom. Somehow, we’ve all managed to bond over this second half of the game. Lily really gave Vivian something to think about during their verbal spar, and she’s been more pliable ever since. Oh, don’t get me wrong, she’s still a major pill, but I think in that moment when Lily helped Vivian see that she had somehow become an exact replica of her own mother whom she despised, it stunned her.

  We’ve gone through a lot, the three of us during this Super Bowl game.

  And now it’s over.

  The Stallions take a knee on the next snap, ending the game officially. I don’t give myself even a moment to search for Nathan’s face on the sidelines, because all I want to do is wrap my arms around him as soon as possible. So I use this time to hustle my booty down the elevator and to the media entrance. Security guards check my badge at the gate, and then I’m herded with the rest of the players’ family members through a dark tunnel that leads to the field.

  Oops. I just realized I moved so fast out of the box that I accidentally left Lily and Mrs
. Donelson in my dust. Too bad. Got to hustle, ladies.

  I emerge from the tunnel just in time to see Nathan in the middle of the field, sharing a quick hug with the quarterback of the winning team. He’s classy, that Nathan. The man manages to look genuinely happy for his opponent, even though I know he’s devastated.

  He has worked so hard to get to this moment, only to be the one who delivered the losing play in the end. I hope the media doesn’t harp on that one fault, because that man played a hell of a game before that moment and it deserves to be noted. But somehow, I know they will. That one clip of Nathan fumbling the ball will get shown on repeat over and over.

  Cameras are all over the two quarterbacks exchanging words. Confetti rains down from above as players congratulate each other and show good sportsmanship that I know they are not feeling. Jamal is across the field, and he presses his finger and thumb into his eyes to stop tears from falling. Derek is on the bench with his head hanging low. I can’t find Price and Lawrence, but I’m sure their vibes are similar.

  It’s a kaleidoscope of emotions on this field. Where one man is elated and chest-bumping his teammate or kissing his wife, another’s eyes are cast down and he’s choking back disappointment.

  I lose sight of Nathan and feel slightly panicky. How is he holding up? My steel teddy bear of a perfectionist is on this field somewhere, and I know he’s crushed. I need to get to him.

  Standing on my toes in the endzone, I crane my neck to see, but it’s difficult with so many other bodies on the field. I consider asking one of these giants in pads to lift me on their shoulders, but I’m saved when I finally spot Nathan on the sidelines exchanging words with one of his coaches. The man hands him something then points in my direction. I throw my arms open wide, ready to hold Nathan while he cries into my bosom.

  When he turns, his gaze hits me like a heavy weight champion in the ring. I’m breathless. He doesn’t need to cry into my bosom. That man is smiling.

  He walks toward me, confetti raining down on him, people hugging, celebrating, and crying all around him, and he parts the emotions like the Red Sea. He is sweaty and glistening. Sinewy arms are pumped and veiny from playing a long, exhausting game. Camera crews see his smile and swarm him. (I understand their curiosity.) Maybe he’s having a mental breakdown at this very moment? Maybe he threw the game on purpose? Because this is not the look of a person who just lost everything he’s ever wanted.

  No. He gets close to me, and his bright white teeth glint under the field lights. He drops his helmet at his feet, and then his knee follows suit. All the chaos around us disappears. It’s me and my best friend. And he’s proposing.

  “Hi, pretty friend,” he tells me, taking my hand in his, which is rough with new calluses and wrapped in medical tape. “I know we already planned it last night, but I thought you might like to hear it from my mouth rather than over text.” Nathan squeezes my hand, and I’m already crying. “Bree, my best friend, I love you. We haven’t been together very long, but we’ve also been together for years. Will you marry me? Will you let me love you every day from now on? Will you finally move out of your shitty apartment and into mine?”

  I laugh. “This is all just a ploy to get me away from the mold, isn’t it?”

  “It’s the only way you’ll allow it.”

  “You’re so good at loopholes.”

  He blinks up at me, and I see moisture on his lashes too. “Is that a yes?”

  I nod my head frantically, laughing and crying and nearly peeing myself in the process. “Yes!”

  Nathan shoots up from his feet and picks me up, spinning me as confetti lands around us like fresh snowfall. Can this really be happening?

  “Tonight?” he whispers against my ear. “Will you elope with me?”

  At this point, the camera crew gets bored with our Hallmark moment and wanders back to the winning team to hear them declare they are going to Disneyland.

  Still in his arms with my feet dangling two feet above the ground, everything feels surreal. “Are you sure? I don’t know if you realize this or not, but this was sort of a big day for you. And…you do realize your team lost just now, right?” I don’t want to ask it, but the way he’s acting you would think the man was celebrating instead of mourning. And although eloping with Nathan is legitimately the stuff of my dreams, I need to know he’s sure. Need to be certain he’s not acting rashly because he’s disappointed.

  He chuckles, and his arms tighten around my low back. “Yes, I know we lost. And yeah, I’m disappointed, but mainly I’m just relieved it’s all finally over. I feel like this huge weight has dropped off of me. Now, I’m just ready to breathe beside you for a while. Preferably on a beach somewhere. With you in the skimpiest bikini I can find.”

  I would poke him in the sides, but he’s wearing full pads—hardly fair. Instead, I lean forward and take his lips in one bruising kiss. There, you’re punished.

  “Bree, the whole answer is that I don’t want to wait another second without being 100% truly and completely yours. But if you want to wait and have a big wedding, I will. Don’t feel like you have to marry me tonight to make me feel better for losing. Because that’s not what this is for me.”

  I lean in and kiss him again, taking my time to peruse his lips as if thousands of strangers are not watching. He tastes like sweat and hope, and there’s no way I’m passing this opportunity up. We can have a giant party when we get home.

  “I’ll be mad if you don’t marry me tonight,” I tell Nathan, completely serious.

  His cheeks crease with a smile and he sets me down. “Oh, I completely forgot to give you this—should we start over?” He holds up the ring box then pops it open.

  I’m swimming in its beauty. This ring is punch-me-in-the-gut pretty, but most of all, it looks like me. It’s not gaudy or massive. I won’t have to drag my hand on the ground as I walk. It’s a simple, beautiful, princess cut diamond. Exactly what I would have picked out myself.

  Just as I slip the ring on, Jamal, Derek, Price, and Lawrence all crowd around us. It’s a commotion of congratulations and sweaty hugs. It doesn’t get to last long because the guys have to go shower then Nathan has to be available for a post-game interview. He has just enough time to kiss me once on the cheek, twice on the neck, and once more on the mouth before he grunts in aggravation and forces himself to back away.

  He points at me like he’s getting ready to toss me the winning catch. “Bree Cheese. Still with me?”

  Cupping my hands around my mouth, I yell, “Always!”

  I find Lily back in the box ten minutes later. Mrs. Donelson has already left, thank goodness, so I don’t have to explain anything to her right now.

  “HURRY!” I say, pulling her up out of her chair. “GET YOUR BOOTY MOVING—WE GOTTA GET ME READY FOR MY WEDDING!”

  “I’m getting married, I’m getting married, I’m getting married.” I repeat this to myself fifteen more times in the hotel bathroom mirror. Lucky for me, I was already wearing a white dress at the game. I shed the jersey and voila, instant bride! That sort of makes me sound like a soup. I tilt my head at my reflection in the mirror. I hope I don’t look like soup.

  Lily stands behind me and puts her hands on my upper arms. “Are you having second thoughts? I will have a car ready to whisk you out of here in five minutes if that’s what you want.”

  “I will put you in that car and have you driven to the airport and shipped off to Australia if you try to talk me out of this! I’m so ready to marry Nathan it’s painful.”

  Lily smiles. “I know you are. I’m so happy I get to be here for it.”

  We’ve already called my mom and dad, and although they were not thrilled about missing their baby’s wedding, they are both completely addicted to Hallmark and can appreciate a romantic whirlwind when they see one. They’ll be at the wedding via FaceTime, as will Nathan’s parents, I’m assuming.

  The next thirty minutes are spent primping, but since neither Lily nor I are very experienced with an ey
eshadow palette and bobby pins, we FaceTime the master.

  “Sweep the right side back like a gorgeous wave rolling onto the beach at sunset,” Dylan says from the screen of my phone.

  Lily grimaces, and her clunky hand pulls my hair back too tight. My scalp burns. “What does that even mean, Dylan?”

  “A GORGEOUS WAVE AT SUNSET, LILY! I did not say a tight-fisted old granny at Christmas.”

  My sister deflates and whispers, “I don’t know what any of this means!”

  “Neither do I. Do your best.”

  Lily eventually pleases the master, and we move on to eyeshadow. The brush trembles in her fingers as it advances toward my lid, and she repeats Dylan’s instructions. “A bird flying over the canyon with gold dust on its wings…got it.” His eyeball is taking up most of the screen he’s sitting so close to it.

  Once my makeover is complete, I look in the mirror. Both Dylan and Lily swoon at the sight of me, which brings tears to my eyes. “I can’t believe this is real. I get to marry my best friend tonight.”

  Lily sniffles and lays her head on my shoulder.

  Dylan swipes a misty tear from his cheek and nods. “Yes, girl, you do. Now, stick that hand in your bra and bob those little duckies toward the surface.”

  Nice. A much needed tear eraser.

  Nathan texts Lily his minute-by-minute agenda, saying it’s our wedding day so I shouldn’t be bothered with logistics. It’s 11:00 PM now, about an hour after the game, and Lily is ushering me through the hotel lobby and out into the night. The cold air sweeps over my arms, and like the most well-executed kidnapping, a blacked-out SUV pulls up to the curb. Lily opens the door and thrusts me into it. It slams shut behind me, and I’m worried for a minute that she didn’t make it in with me. Whew. She did. Everything is okay.