by Vanessa Fox
The players in the endzone, Blackfoots and Alphas together, scramble and push against each other, each of them straining to be the lucky one to catch it.
A bunch of them gather together as the ball descends. It's promptly swallowed by the hoard. They roll over each other in a big mess of bodies and limbs, grabbing and swatting and struggling. Then one of them rises with ball in hand. He thrusts it triumphantly into the air. He's wearing blue and red.
Absolute chaos erupts in the stands.
All of us— Katie and I included— start screaming, cheering, and jumping up and down.
If I thought the roar of the crowd was deafening before, it's nothing compared to this. My eardrums feel like they're about to pop, but I don't even care.
The energy in the stadium is incredible.
The man next to me, the paint on his face is running as tears flow down his cheeks. He puts his head in his hands and sobs tears of joy.
Next to Katie, a big fat guy who is clearly drunk out of his mind, grabs her around the waist and pulls her in for a big, sloppy kiss.
He releases her and she stands there, stunned. I start laughing and she laughs along with me.
The crowd starts to chant, "ALPHAS! ALPHAS! ALPHAS!" as the special teams players get into position and kick the extra point. Against my better judgment, I join their ritualistic chant alongside them. I don't know if it's the beer, the excitement of the game, or both, but all of a sudden I'm having the time of my life.
By now Kade has made his way to the endzone. He's got a big grin on his face, hugging and high-fiving his teammates as the disappointed Blackfoot players saunter away with their heads lowered.
He talks to the receiver who made the catch and they bang their helmets together triumphantly.
Then he turns his head and looks into the stands, and my heart stops as his green eyes fall directly on me.
He freezes in place. Another player puts his arm around Kade's shoulders, and yet another stands there in front of him telling him something, but Kade's eyes don't waver from mine.
Amid the chaos, the whole world seems to stop. The noise fades away and all of a sudden it's just me and Kade again, sharing a moment.
My heart is beating so fast I fear it might explode. Deep inside of me a flame reignites, but it's veiled by a shroud of confusion.
Then I blink, and it's gone.
He's looked away, distracted by the hoard of cameras and reporters that have suddenly flooded the field and overtaken him.
Stunned, I drop back down to my seat.
"What was that?!" Katie asks me excitedly. "Did you see that?! He was looking right at you!"
I don't even have it in me to argue against her, or come up with some kind of excuse to explain it away.
I am just utterly shocked.
Chapter 8
Kade
"Kade, what was going through your mind when you made that last play?"
I hear the words but hardly register them.
I squint, taken aback by the bright shining lights and the huge camera shoved into my face.
Mimi Lopez, standing a good foot and a half below me, raises the microphone to my lips.
"Uhhh, I uhh—" I stammer. I've forgotten the question already. All I can think about is Willow Greene, staring at me in shock from the stands. Was that really her, or was my mind playing tricks on me? It had to be her. I would recognize those blue eyes anywhere.
"What was going through your mind when you made that last play?" she repeats. She's smiling, but I can tell she's annoyed. She wants a good soundbite for the news.
"Well you know, I uh, I just knew I had to do something to save us," I say. "I just said a prayer and threw the ball."
I give her my signature cocky grin and attempt to push my way through the crowd. They're all swarming around me. I'm blinded by the camera flashes. They're barking endless questions at me, their voices drowning in a sea of noise.
Normally I love the media attention after a big win, but my head's not in it right now.
"Kade! Were you worried that you might lose—"
"Nah, I'm never worried," I smile.
I'm almost free. I just keep walking, ignoring everyone. I turn back towards the stands to try to spot Willow again, but it's like playing Where's Waldo among the hundreds of bodies. I can't find her in the crowd. Disappointed, I head to the locker room. I don't know what I'd do even if I did see her there.
I go to my locker, my teammates congratulating me and patting me on the back on the way there. Somebody has turned on rap music. Some of them are hooting and hollering, others are dancing. The energy is palpable.
I set my helmet down and begin peeling off my armor.
Shit, am I going crazy? Am I hallucinating?
What the hell is Willow Greene doing at an Alphas game? Shouldn't she be up north? Shouldn't she be at home with her nose in a book, listening to classical music, maybe debating the Israel Palestine conflict over dinner and wine with some skinny, nerdy boyfriend?
She looked different. Older. More mature. But unmistakably Willow.
Her brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, with two whisps hanging down by her ears. She wore dangly earrings and a white blouse. No team spirit for her, apparently.
Typical Willow.
She was standing there with a blond girl on one side and a middle-aged overweight man painted in the Alpha's team colors on the other side. It didn't look like she was accompanied by a boyfriend.
I smile to myself as I realize what this means.
Either Willow's become a genuine football fan in the years since we dated, which doesn't seem likely considering her lack of branding, or maybe… just maybe she saw me on the news, and was curious enough about me to come see me in person.
The thought of it makes me giddy. It combines with the adrenaline I'm already feeling from the game, and the result is pure euphoria.
As I hit the showers, my mind runs wild.
The hot water feels amazing as it trickles down my bruised and beaten body. I know once the adrenaline wears off, I'm gonna start feeling the pain of that last big hit I took.
But it was all worth it to make that final play, and in a sense I feel especially rewarded by Willow's presence.
Willow came here to see me. That must mean she's single, and interested. What better prospect than a professional athlete? Surely she's forgiven me for my last indiscretion, which wasn't even my fault anyway. I never wanted Lacey to climb on my lap and start making out with me. Besides, we were eighteen years old. We were just dumb kids.
This could be a fresh start.
Literally everything in my life is going perfectly— except for one missing piece of the puzzle.
Willow could be that piece.
Could be.
Of course, I'll have to find her first. I have no idea how to go about doing that. I saw her from afar in the stands. It's not like we exchanged numbers.
But she's out here somewhere. She's here in this city. Maybe she lives here or maybe she's just visiting.
So I have to act fast.
I have to find Willow Greene.
Willow
I gaze into Kade's brilliant green eyes and my heart flutters. His eyes are the color of freshly cut lawn on a summer's day. He looks stern and determined as he scans the field to make his hail mary pass. He throws the ball and I pause the video just before he gets tackled by that huge defensive lineman. It makes me cringe seeing him get hit like that, and I hope he didn't sustain any injuries.
I skip back to the beginning and watch the highlights again.
In an odd way I feel like I belong to the narrative of last night's game. I was a part of the whole thing. It only lasted a few seconds, and fortunately wasn't captured by any cameras that I know of, but I was part of it.
For a brief moment, I was part of Kade's life again.
Not that it really matters.
All of this is just a passing fancy. It was a neat little thing that happened, but it d
oesn't mean anything. Even if I wanted it to mean something, there's not a whole lot I can really do. There's no way to contact him. It's not like I can call up his agent or the team headquarters and explain that I'm his ex from high school, and could I pretty please have his contact info?
He looked at me— that was it.
Sure, I've watched this highlight video on Youtube six times, but that doesn't mean that—
"Willow, were you able to contact—" Mrs. Cooper pauses.
I freeze. I can't close the tab now. She's already seen it. It would just look more suspect if I did that. Mrs. Cooper leans down with her hand on the chair.
"Oh, the Alphas! That was a good game last night," she says.
I breathe a sigh of relief. "Yeah. I was there!"
"Oh, you were? That must have been exciting."
"Actually, it was pretty boring except for the last thirty seconds," I smile.
She laughs. "Well, that ending made up for it. My, my, isn't that Kade Hughes handsome? I wouldn't mind a piece of that."
"Mrs. Cooper!" I exclaim. "You're a married woman!"
She puts her hand on her hip and grins. "Sure, but I can dream, can't I?"
We laugh together.
"I can't imagine what it would be like to wake up next to that fine specimen," she coos.
Part of me is screaming out, wanting desperately to tell her that I already know what it's like. I know the way the smells, the way he tastes. The way he kisses, softly and gently but with a desperate hunger. The way he runs his hands all over my body, grasping at me, needing me. The way he whispers in my ear. The size of his—
Ahem. All of this is past tense, of course.
And I'm much too reserved and level-headed to say a single word. But I want to. I really want to.
"Oh well, in another life, maybe," Mrs. Cooper smirks as she turns away. Then she pauses. "You do intend on getting some work done today, right Willow?"
There it is.
I close the tab quickly and sit up straight. "Of course. Sorry."
My boss just smiles slyly, like she knows I'm hiding a secret. "Were you able to contact the Friedman's? We need confirmation of their pledge to donate. Oh, and were you able to confirm the venue for our fall charity ball?"
"Yes, the Friedman's are in, and we have Nolan Hall booked for November 21st."
"Excellent." She nods before heading back into her office.
See? I can still be productive despite my newfound addiction to watching football highlight reels on repeat throughout the day.
—
The next three weeks pass by uneventfully. I go to work, come home, hang out with Katie, go to bed. Repeat. The more time that passes, the more my "moment" with Kade feels like a distant dream. Maybe it didn't even happen. Maybe I imagined it. Sure, Katie witnessed it too, and wouldn't shut up about it for days, but she's always had a big imagination herself.
I can't tell whether I feel relieved or disappointed. I guess it's a bit of both. Relieved because nothing happened, no floodgates opened. I don't have to face my past, after all. I don't have to see or speak to Kade again, whatever that would mean, for better or worse. I'm able to just continue living my life as it is, and stay warm and comfortable in my own little bubble.
Disappointed because a brief moment of promise turned out to be nothing, in the end.
Not that I want it to be something.
But I do feel that a spark was lit, even just for a split second. But instead of growing into a flame, it simply fizzled out, like a campfire that fails to start.
Oh well. I have far too many important things going on in my life for me to spend my time obsessing over a mere glance, as if I'm a preteen in middle school drawing hearts all over my notebook when I should be paying attention in class.
I'm happy for Kade. The Alphas are somehow still undefeated. He's out there somewhere, spending most of his time in this city. Driving down the same streets that I walk. Probably living in one of the high rises that comprise the skyline I look at every day. Maybe he's single, maybe he's not.
Who knows, and who cares?
Not me.
Chapter 9
Willow
My palms are sweating as I enter Nolan Hall for the fall charity ball. The building is packed with a very high-class crowd, all tuxedos and elegant evening gowns. The women are holding champagne flutes, wearing sophisticated up-dos, their necks adorned with diamond jewelry. The men are drinking cocktails and chuckling in a hoity-toity way as they discuss golf and their stock options (I assume). A cello quartet softly plays a gorgeous piece that I recognize instantly: Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition.
I take a deep breath and stand up straight, feigning confidence. I'm all decked out, wearing a mauve evening dress with a long V-neck. Katie helped me pick it out. She also did my hair and makeup, and lent me her diamond earrings. She gave me really nice soft waves that frame my face. I know I look good, but it isn't enough to inspire much confidence given what I'm about to do.
I whisper the words to my upcoming speech under my breath. My palms are sweaty and I'm praying I don't forget what to say. I have it scrawled on a piece of paper in my purse, but I'd prefer to impress everyone by reciting it from memory alone. Given my nerves, I really hope I don't pass out in front of everyone. I've never been much for public speaking, especially not in front of a crowd like this.
A waiter strolls by and I snatch a flute of champagne while I have the chance. I start to chug it but then slow down, realizing I have eyes on me and I can't make an ass out myself.
Mrs. Cooper emerges from the throng of bodies around me. She has a huge grin on her face, and there's a bounce in her step. Her blond hair is styled in a long braid hanging over her bare shoulder, and her bright cherry red lips matches the shade of her poofy gown that looks not unlike a prom dress. I'm afraid she looks a little clownish, and would benefit from toning down her look. But she's always been a loud, colorful person, so I guess it's appropriate.
"Willow! Fancy seeing you here!"
I laugh. "Good evening, Mrs. Cooper. You seem happy."
"Oh no, I'm not happy. I am over the moon. You won't believe what just happened."
"What?"
She covers her mouth as she giggles, with a mischievous look in her hazel eyes. "It's a secret. I'll reveal it to you, and to everyone else later on."
"Oh, okay!" I already know this means we must have snagged a big donation.
"Until then, keep your eyes open," she nudges my arm. "There may be a celebrity in our midst."
My ears perk up. I glance around the room, but no one stands out. Of course, there's so many people here, it might take me a while to spot exactly who she's talking about.
"Any hints?" I ask.
She crosses her arms and shakes her head, a smile on her face the whole time. "Nope. My lips are sealed."
"Aw, you're no fun," I grumble playfully.
Katie is gonna die when she finds out she missed the chance to potentially meet a celebrity. I wonder who it could be. Is it an A-lister? A musician? Or some lame, no-name soap opera star who I wouldn't even recognize but Mrs. Cooper thinks must be a "big deal"?
I keep looking around, my curiosity piqued.
"You'll never guess who it is," Mrs. Cooper teases. She looks like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Aw, come on, Mrs. Cooper," I pout. "You're no fun."
She does the "zipping her lips" motion. She's raising and lowering herself with her heels, smiling knowingly.
I sigh as I take another sip of my champagne. "Well, it doesn't really matter. All I can think about is making this damn speech. I'm so nervous!"
"Oh, you'll be fine, Willow," she reassures me. "You're gonna do great. Just imagine everybody naked!"
I laugh. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea."
—
After the initial greeting, drinking and mingling stage, the guests take their seats at elegant round tables draped with white linen, commencing a four-course dinner consisting
of some really fancy food: spring green salad with grilled peaches and goat cheese dressed in balsamic vinaigrette; fresh mussels in lime coconut cream sauce; wild salmon on crab potato mash; and creme brulee for desert.
I can't help but question the ethics of spending what must be a boatload of cash on this fancy, high-class affair, when our money is supposed to be going towards veterans in need of assistance. But I suppose if it results in large donations from exceptionally wealthy people, that makes it all worth it in the long run.
I'm sitting at a table near the stage, picking at my salad as Mrs. Cooper takes the podium. My stomach is growling and I know this food is delicious, but I'm wary of eating too much. My nerves are completely shot and my pulse is sky high. The last thing I want is to vomit my dinner all over the stage. The fact that there will be some mysterious celebrity watching me speak doesn't help matters any.
I smirk at the thought of getting a selfie with whoever-it-is and texting it to Katie just to rub it in her face. She was supposed to be here tonight offering moral support, but she ditched in favor of spending the night with her boyfriend Parker. I guess I can forgive her, since he leaves to Germany in the morning and she won't see him again for three weeks.
But I really wish she was here just so I could have someone to lean on. Oh well.
"I just want to thank each and every one of you for coming out here tonight!" Mrs. Cooper says. She's all smiles. She looks confident and charismatic, like she's done this a million times and it's no big deal to her.
The guests clap politely.
"We here at the Cooper Foundation are incredibly grateful at the generosity we've received. I started this foundation seven years ago in the basement of my house. All I had was a desk, a computer, a phone and some flyers. I was a nobody. I had no idea how I'd actually make it work. But what I did have was a vision. Inspired by my own son, Patrick Cooper, who served two tours in Iraq. Patrick, where are you? Why don't you stand up for us?"