by Rebel Hart
I flicked a hand through the air. “Hi.”
“We can’t afford even a second slip up from you. I’m sorry to put it all on you, but well, it is. Don’t get starstruck, don’t get overly excited, don’t freak out, and don’t flirt with your boyfriend. You want this, don’t you?”
“More than anything.”
“Good, prove it.” He closed his playbook. “This is different from any of our previous games, Widows. Let Alec give you water during timeouts, and don’t be afraid to let me know if you’re struggling. We have contingency plans for a reason.” He looked over at me. “Anything to add?”
I stood up and looked at the Black Widows. They all smiled back at me, and a blazing fire of determination burned behind their eyes. I had a whole speech planned, but at that moment, anything I was planning to say didn’t need to be said. “Let’s go out there and give them a battle they won’t forget.”
Cal put one hand on my back and stuck the other out. “Bring it in.”
We hopped up and piled our hands on top of Cal’s. I tilted my head back and screamed, “Widows!”
“Widows!” They called back to me.
A security guard led us from our locker room out onto the Vipers field, and my jaw dropped. The thrum of thousands of fans found me before we stepped out into the afternoon sun, but when we did, I could see each and every seat in the stadium was packed. At least half of the spectators were wearing black and red and erupted when they saw us walking out.
“Whoa!” Alec pointed up into the stands, and running along the wall right behind our bench was a giant Black Widow mascot.
I punched Cal. “You didn’t have to do that.” He’d alluded to a big surprise earlier in the week but hadn’t told me what.
“If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it,” Cal replied.
We made our way over to our bench and situated ourselves, and after about twenty minutes, the captains were called to the field. It was George and Max that stood up when it was time to file out, and I smiled at them. With Lila gone, none of the Widows had been more dedicated to the team than them. I started out to centerfield and noticed Zeke across the way, making his way out with a pair of Vipers at his sides, as well. We met in the middle, and Zeke held out a fist. I bumped it.
“I don’t think I need to tell you two, but I’ll say it anyway, keep it clean out there.” The ref looked at Zeke. “Call it.”
“Tails.” The ref flipped the coin into the air, and it dropped down onto the turf, tails up. Zeke looked over at me. “We’ll kick.”
I shrugged. “It’s your funeral,” and he laughed.
The ref motioned that the Widows were receiving first, and we turned to head back to our benches. My back was barely to Zeke when I felt a tug at my jersey. I turned, and he was smiling at me.
“I love you.”
My smile grew. “I love you.” I raised an eyebrow. “No mercy.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe in mercy.”
Everything between that moment and standing on the field to wait for the kick was a blur. The roar of the fans and the heat sweltering in my body—all of it pumped me up until I thought my bones were going to jump out of my body. I side-eyed Jansen, but she was already low to the ground, ready to run. The whistle blew, and the Vipers’ kicker charged forward and kicked the ball high into the air. It sailed down the field, and for a second, I was worried it was going to go short, but Jansen raced forward at lightning speed and snagged it. The Widows took off as the Vipers charged her, each of us colliding with their defensive line as they tried to get to Jansen.
I was on Jansen’s feet, shoving guys aside as I did when a Viper cut out from upfield. I peeled off to the right of Jansen, and just as he was about to jump and tackle her, I lept and hooked his feet, taking him down to his face. Jansen continued, threading her way in and out of Vipers until she was running across the line into the end zone. I jumped to my feet, unsure that I’d seen that right, but before long, there were Widows jumping up and down around me. We started the game with a kick return!
“I’ll take it!” I screamed.
We kicked the ball off to the Vipers next, and they fought not to be outdone. Though they didn’t run it all the way back for a return like we did, their movement up the field was quick. We knew that without Lila’s power on defense, our best hope was going to be to score more points. That said, we could lock the Vipers up pretty good, and I was elated when Zeke wasn’t able to get the ball out of his hands before I tackled him to the ground.
“You’re supposed to throw the ball, my love,” I teased.
He shoved me off of him playfully. “Pipe down.”
In no world could we force a turnover. It took longer for them than it took us, but the Vipers returned the points we scored easily, and made a successful conversion, bringing them to the lead. The game was a tit-for-tat match of the Widows scoring and the Vipers scoring right behind us. I knew that, unless we managed to get a point gap going, the Vipers were going to win, if only by a small margin. Cal had a play designed to make the most of our team offensively, but it was a little reckless and took a lot of stamina off Hollie and Gria. We could probably only run it for two possessions before they were too tired to do it, so I positioned one right after we came back from halftime and held over the other for near the end.
Between the reckless plays, I relied on my team to open the Vipers up and make small advances toward the end zone instead of throwing it for big yardage. It was a strain on my stamina, and the Vipers were well aware of my ability to sneak through tiny openings, but I kept on and on until we were within the twenty-yard line. Kris snapped the ball back to me, and it barely touched my hands before I threw it. I had to blindly trust that the Widows would get where they needed to be, and I need not be worried.
Beck was smaller and faster than Jansen. She shook off her mark quickly and got down the field at lightning speed, earning her nickname. She was under the ball without breaking a sweat, and it dropped into her hands in the end zone without an issue. We ran the Vipers through their next possession, barely allowing them by for a touchdown and foiling their conversion attempt. It was just about to tick over into the final two minutes of the game, and the conditions were optimal. Our victory was so close I could taste it.
We used our final timeout just in time, and I huddled the Widows. “We’re going reckless,” I looked at Gria and Hollie. “Take care of yourselves out there, but give it all you’ve got. This is it.”
Gria nodded and put a hand on Hollie’s head. “We got it.”
Cal put his hand in the middle. “Widows!”
“Widows!”
We broke and walked back out onto the field, and the Vipers defense had repositioned for our reckless play. I should have known it wouldn’t get past Zeke the first time we used it, but it was exactly why I didn’t run them back to back. The best we could hope for was to pull it off, anyway. It was a quick and dirty play. Gria and Hollie had to topple as many heads as they could, while Beck and Jansen got down the field. If I could get the ball over the Vipers and down to them, we could win.
The whistle blew, and Kris snapped the ball back. Zeke was off the line and rushing toward me in a flash. He knew what I was up to. I looked to my left and right, but I was buttoned up. My mind flashed back to when I ran drills with Zeke in that very stadium a month ago. He charged at me the same way, and I’d held my ground. I thought about my dad and that first time that I took him off his feet. I thought about Lila holding me down, rendering me helpless while I fought for the ball. All of the power in my career surged into me, and I ducked and ran at Zeke.
The crowd went wild around me as I slammed into him with my shoulder, knocking him to the right and off his feet. There was no one behind him, so I bolted between the line that Hollie and Gria were holding back and up the field. I spied Jansen and Beck, and they were both heavily guarded, but everyone around me was too far away to catch me. It was the riskiest thing I’d done in my career, but I barre
lled all my stamina into my legs and raced as fast as I could for the end zone.
28
Zeke
“Shh, shh, look! Quinn’s famous!” Quinn’s teammate Kris held the remote up to the flat screen in MontRec and turned it up at the sight of Quinn, with sweat still pouring down her face on the field.
“That was an insane play you ran at the end there,” the reporter said. “How did it feel crossing that line?”
“Unlike anything I’ve ever felt before,” the recorded version of Quinn responded. “We owed the Vipers a loss for the one they gave us, and I was happy my team did me the honor of letting me bring it in.”
“My rib still hurts,” I grumbled, hugging Quinn close to me. “That was amazing.”
Quinn shrugged. “I didn’t want to lose again.”
Everyone, both Widows and Vipers alike, started to cheer. On the TV, I walked over and stood next to Quinn, and everyone smashed into MontRec quieted down. “Zeke, what do you have to say about the Vipers giving their semi-pro status to the Black Widows?”
Quinn raised her hand. “I’d like to address that, actually.” The reporter turned the mic back to Quinn. “We have decided not to accept the semi-pro status.”
The reporter gasped. “You’re not?”
“We don’t want to go semi-pro if we can’t do it with our rivals. So, unless we are both allowed semi-pro status, the Black Widows respectfully bow out.”
There was a murmur around MontRec as the reporter on the TV turned the mic to me. “Zeke, what do you have to say to that?”
“I have to say that the Vipers feel the same way.” The recorded me looked at the recorded Quinn. “We’ve developed a real rivalry here, so if the Widows aren’t allowed the semi-pro status they’ve clearly earned, then the Vipers will be stepping down, as well. It’s both of us or neither of us.”
On the TV, Quinn looked directly into the camera. “Well, commissioner, looks like it’s check-mate.”
The Black Widows, Vipers, and all of our guests at our after-party at MontRec started cheering. Kris muted the TV but left it playing in the background and turned to hold her beer in the air. “To Quinn!”
Everyone held theirs up as well. “To Quinn!”
Someone started some music, and everyone broke to mingle around the community center. I nuzzled my head against Quinn’s and placed a kiss on her neck. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She turned her head to kiss me properly.
We hadn’t heard anything since Quinn and I made our ultimatum on live television. I told Quinn about how I played Wright at his own game and took my story public, and she decided that the Widows and Vipers could do the same. The entire country saw our rivalry and amazing game play out. To not give us both semi-pro status would be to lose all manner of followers, likes, subscribers—whatever the hell he was after. We didn’t say much as we sat there, but I held Quinn close and vowed never to let her go again.
The Vipers were clearly impressed with the Widows, both on and off the field. To our surprise, very little flirting was going on in favor of friendly competition. Some of the Vipers and Widows had crowded around a foosball table, some of them had started up beer pong, and others just sat and exchanged plays and football advice.
Quinn set her head on my shoulder, and I kissed her forehead. “This is awesome.”
I smiled. “Yeah, it is.”
“I don’t get it,” the Widows’ coach, Cal, said. “I would think you two being all lovey-dovey would get way more views or whatever than you two hating each other.”
Alec was leaning against a wall nearby. “It’s like I said before, that guy isn’t wrapped too tight.”
“No kidding,” Quinn replied.
“Well, I just think that…” Cal’s voice trailed off.
Quinn and I looked over just in time to see what Cal had noticed first. Lila had entered the community center and was slowly slinking her way over like a dog with its tail between its legs. Just looking at her made my blood boil. She nearly cost me Quinn.
She looked down at Quinn. “Listen, Quinn—”
“Nope,” Quinn said before she could finish. “Get out.”
“Hey, Quinn,” Cal said, “hear her out, at least.” Both Quinn and Lila looked at Cal with shock. Cal shrugged. “Well?”
Lila took a deep breath. “I’m s-sorry. I…” She looked like she was on the edge of tears, and I’d never seen the haughty player act like that before. “I thought I knew best. It’s clear I didn’t.” She glanced at Cal and then back at Quinn. “The Widows are my home.”
Many of the Black Widows had walked over and were watching the interaction curiously. Quinn closed her eyes for a minute, and when she opened them, her expression was very matter-of-fact.
“It’s not up to me,” she said and then turned to look at Cal. “What do you think, Coach?”
Lila continued staring at Quinn for a moment before slowly turning her gaze to Cal. For Lila, someone who hates men, having her fate be left up to one was a worse punishment than being turned down.
Cal crossed his arms and stared pensively for a while. Lila squirmed under the scrutiny, but finally, a smile crossed his face. “With a little control, your power could do wonders for us.” Lila smiled, but then Cal put a hand up. “But, you are benched until further notice. These women worked hard, and it wouldn’t be fair to just let you walk back on the field. You’ll have to earn it.”
“I will,” Lila said. “I promise.”
She gave Quinn a look before turning and starting for the door. Before she made it, two women closed in. Quinn had told me their names were George and Max. Lila averted their gaze until George held out a beer. Lila smiled again, took the beer, and allowed herself to be dragged off toward the foosball tournament.
Cal looked down at Quinn. “I almost crapped my pants.” Alec, Quinn, and I fell out laughing, and Cal shook his head. “I need a drink.”
Quinn nodded her head. “Hard booze in my desk.”
“Thank god.” He skated off without another word.
“Zeke.” I looked back over my shoulder, and Daniel was walking into the community center. He was still in his apron from work and looked disappointed. He walked over and looked down at me. “I missed your game. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. You said it wasn’t likely you’d make it. You’re here, at least, so grab a beer.” I held a hand out to Quinn. “This is Quinn. Quinn, this is my brother Daniel. Daniel, Quinn.”
Quinn reached a hand out and shook it and then motioned over to where Alec was standing. “This is my brother, Alec.”
Daniel turned and froze. Alec leaned forward off of the wall, and then a smile slowly rose to his face.
“Danny?” Alec nearly whispered.
I thought Daniel was going to spontaneously combust. “Alec.” He laughed. “Hi.”
“Wow!” Alec jumped at Daniel and pulled him into a big hug while Quinn and I stared on with dropped jaws. “It’s been so long.”
“I know. I…” Daniel started to stammer. “I came back looking for you.”
“Yeah,” Alec rubbed the back of his head. “My folks kicked me out after they caught us. I didn’t have your number. I’m sorry.”
“Wait,” Quinn leaned forward. “This is the guy?”
Alec and Daniel looked as though we didn’t even exist. “Wanna go grab a drink?” Daniel asked.
Alec nodded. “Definitely,” he said, and they were gone without another word.
Quinn and I sat in silence for too long until I finally managed to stutter out, “You’re not related by blood, right?”
“No,” Quinn replied.
I let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god.”
“Ah!” Kris screeched. “It’s the decision!”
All of the party guests gathered back around the TV as Kris unmuted it and turned the volume up. A fancy-dressed man in a suit and tie stood in front of a podium on the screen. A marquee across the bottom of the screen said that this was the chai
rman of the Idaho Athletic Board.
“It has come to our attention that one of our own, Commissioner Wright Johnson, used some rather inappropriate tactics to encourage unacceptable behavior along the Black Widows’ path to semi-pro status. We want to assure Idaho and the nation that this is not how our board conducts business, and Mr. Johnson has resigned, effective immediately.” There was a small cheer amongst the party guests before he continued. “Furthermore, it seems that one of the teams, the Colorado Sirens, worked part and parcel with Mr. Wright to perpetuate fraud in the Black Widows’ third game. One of their players, Lila Skeddit, was not an official player on the Sirens’ roster, and as such, the Sirens forfeited the game. The team against which the Widows were meant to play their fourth game contacted me about an hour ago to tell me that they would like to forfeit that victory in favor of a later rematch.”
Quinn sat straight up in her seat. “Oh my god.”
“Therefore, between their first victory and those of their third, fourth, and fifth games, the Black Widows have successfully met the requirements to achieve semi-pro status. The Vipers will maintain their status and will be joined in Idaho’s semi-pro league by the newest Montpelier Black Widows. We look forward to seeing more exciting matches between these new rivals.”
The room erupted. I wrapped an arm around Quinn’s neck and kissed her on the cheek.
Kris turned off the TV and screamed, “We’re semi-pro!”
Everyone cheered again, and a few minutes later, music started, and the energy inside the room turned electric with excitement. The smile on Quinn’s face was worth remembering forever, and I certainly hoped I had forever to see all the things that made her that happy.
“I can’t wait to kick your ass all over that field for years to come,” I said to Quinn.
She tilted her head with a smirk. “Until you go pro.”
I shrugged. “With the shit way I play, I’ll never go pro,” I mocked Quinn’s earlier words against me.
Quinn laughed and put her arms around my neck, pulling my forehead to touch against hers. “I’m looking forward to years to come with you, too.”