“Me neither,” I say honestly.
“Oh, so it’s basically something we have to do because of your ginormous crush on Jesse?”
“We don’t have to do it. I want to.” That’s the only thing I counter with. I want to be here. “We get to watch from a viewing box that sits on the fifty-yard line, and just outside the doors are the snacks,” I explain.
“Cool,” she says, devoid of any enthusiasm.
We walk into the stadium, and I head over to the box office like I have a few times before. Telling the attendant my name and showing her my student ID, she gives me the tickets and we head upstairs. I’m grateful Jesse got one of his teammates to get him a ticket so Emma could join. She’s become a really good friend, and I want her to experience this. I think she’ll enjoy it despite her hesitance.
Exiting the elevator, we open the door to the box where I know the girls are waiting. The moment we walk inside, I’m greeted by a few familiar faces. Who would’ve thought that I’d be coming to games so often that people would know who I am? That may also be a side-effect of hanging out with Jesse.
At the back of the room, which is the closest to the field, I spot two Hunter jerseys, both with different numbers. Quarterback and tight end—the Hunter brothers. I know exactly who’s wearing them too; Mia supporting her boyfriend, and Kaitlyn supporting her twin brother.
I greet Mia and Kaitlyn, who immediately get up. Mia embraces me, and Kaitlyn does the same.
“Zoe! You made it!” Mia exclaims, perpetually bubbly.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. This is one of the final games!” I’m shocked at my own excitement and ever-growing knowledge of the sport.
“I’m so glad Mia found another football lover. That way, I don’t have to feign interest,” Kaitlyn says.
“Shut up. You like football,” Mia teases.
“Oh, guys, this is Emma,” I say, introducing my roommate, who remains a few steps behind me, using me as a shield.
“Hi Emma, I’m Mia, and this is Kaitlyn,” Mia says with a warm smile.
“We’ve heard a lot about you.” Kaitlyn adds this in a creepy tone.
Emma groans. “Oh, God, what did she say?”
We all laugh.
“All good things, don’t worry. We already like you. You’re going to have to tell me about those romance books you read,” Mia replies, and I can see Emma turning red.
My roommate looks at me accusingly. “You told her about those?”
I shrug. “They had to know why you never come out with me. I told them you lived in a literary world.”
“We should have a book club!” Mia suggests out of nowhere.
Kaitlyn looks like she’s been given the worst offer of her life. “Hard pass. I’m not reading for fun.”
“I’m with Kaitlyn on this one. No, thank you,” I echo.
“Ignore them,” Mia says. “I’ll read with you. When you start reading the next book, tell me what it is, and I’ll download it too. I need some fun reading before I graduate and have to be an adult.” She sits down beside Kaitlyn, and I take the next seat.
“Sounds good,” Emma replies, sitting next to me.
This game is shit. The team we’re playing against keeps making really questionable plays, and the referees aren’t doing anything about it.
And we’re losing.
I guess at some point every team loses, but this has been a perfect season so far. We have won every game—both home and away—but judging by the way things are looking, our streak may end tonight.
“Seriously!” Mia yells, pointing at the field when the defense runs through the o-line and sacks Colton. He gets up slowly, and I swear he looks in the direction of our box. I can imagine him searching for Mia to assure her he’s okay. She yells expletives at the refs and the other team as she sticks up for her boyfriend. She’s even yelling at our own team to get it together. On the other hand, there’s Kaitlyn and Emma. Kaitlyn sits more quietly than usual, and Emma has her e-reader out as she devours her latest read. I shake my head.
“Whatcha reading?” I ask her.
“Sports romance,” she says, never lifting her eyes from her reader.
I watch the teams switch at the beginning of the third quarter. “What sport?”
“Football,” she says, and I laugh.
“You’re seriously at a football game reading a book about football?” She looks at me.
“Football in books is better,” she answers matter-of-factly, her eyes returning to her screen.
I turn back to the field and spot Jesse getting ready for the kick off. I watch as he takes measured steps away from the ball, and I can tell he’s counting each of them. Although the helmet and distance prevent me from seeing the determination in his eyes, I know it’s there.
He runs towards the football, picking up speed as he gets closer until his right foot makes contact with the ball, sending it flying to the other side of the field. It’s a perfect kick, landing just outside the end zone. The receiver on the opposing team catches the ball and begins to run, gaining yardage with every step. One of our players tries to stop him but misses the tackle by mere inches and crashes into the ground. Their kick returner runs to his own thirty-yard line, continuing down the field with the football safely in his arms.
Mia is on her feet, yelling for someone to do something, to stop them from getting closer to the end zone, scoring and destroying our undefeated season. I rise to my feet as well when another tackle is missed and the player continues past the fifty-yard line. He reaches our forty when from out of nowhere, I see Jesse running toward him.
“Come on!” I scream as I wait for him to take down the player. He reaches him, his hands going to the player’s jersey and in a swift motion pulling the other guy towards him and down. They both crash to the ground, the ball knocked loose. Jesse rises from the ground rapidly, throwing himself on top of the ball.
“A fumble and a recovery!” the announcer states, and even Kaitlyn gets up and screams in excitement, along with Mia and me.
Jesse’s play is game-changing—the one that transforms everything. By the time the fourth quarter starts, we’re only down by six since the previous team missed the extra point. Our team moves the chains and find themselves at the fifty-yard line. When Mia finally settles back down, she explains that this was the team that almost blew us out of the water last time.
Another spectacular play gets us closer to the end zone.
“Okay, so it’s third and three, and they’re on the thirty-five-yard line. If they don’t convert, then we lose,” Mia says out loud to no one in particular.
“Let’s hope they can do it,” I respond since aside from her, I’m the only one from our group paying attention to the game. The team comes back from the time out they’d called and take their positions on the field. Colton makes the call, and the ball is snapped to him. He surveys the field, looking for the open player, but as he searches, a player from the other side gets through the o-line and runs straight toward him. Instantly, I see Zack heading toward Colton. He makes an incredible tackle, bringing down the rusher and allowing Colton to have more time in the pocket to pass the ball.
Colton looks around the field once more, sending the ball flying over to number 87, Nick, who makes the catch and begins to run. Nick holds the ball as the other team’s players run toward him. Nick, however, is quicker on his feet, maneuvering so swiftly that the other player trips and falls. This allows Nick to move closer and closer to the end zone. We’re all back on our feet, chanting his name and praying for the touchdown that will help us finally tie the game.
Twenty yards. Ten yards. Inches. And he’s in!
“Yes!” Mia and I scream out loud, and to my surprise, Kaitlyn once gets to her feet and cheers for her brother. Family over everything, right?
I turn to Emma, who I find looking up from her e-reader and down at the field with an expression of awe.
“You saw that?” I ask.
She nods. “That w
as pretty cool.”
“Better than the games in your book?”
“Don’t push it,” she says with a smile. She puts her reader in her bag, and I know that the game has finally captured her full attention.
Jesse takes the field again, lining up to go for the extra point. The players get in position, the ball is snapped and Jesse kicks it flawlessly. I follow it as it goes through the center of the goal post. When I bring my eyes back to where Jesse is standing, I find him sprawled on the ground.
“What happened?” I demand, a bad feeling creeping its way through my body.
“A player tackled him after he kicked,” Emma responds.
“Roughing the kicker, Ref! Roughing the kicker!” Mia shouts, and I stay seated—not because I don’t want to join her in yelling, but because Jesse is still on the ground and my legs are frozen. My heart is beating erratically, just waiting for a sign that he’s okay.
I hold my breath, but nothing happens. The coaches rush to the field, and the players surround him, blocking him from my view. I keep my hand on my chest, and while I wait, my mind wanders to the hospital. I think about Jesse’s love of football. I think about all the pain he must be feeling right now. All the bones that he could have possibly broken. With each thought, my heart breaks more and more for him. A tear slides down my face, and I let it fall.
“He’s getting up,” Mia says, her hand on my shoulder as she brings me back from my parade of horrors. I breathe a sigh of relief and watch Jesse nod his head, reassuring people that he’s okay. I get up, joining Mia and the whole stadium in cheering for him as he walks, unaided, to the sideline.
“Thank God,” I mutter.
“I know how it feels,” Mia says. “Trust me. Colton has had a few horrible sacks, and I’ve wanted to make my way down there to make sure he’s okay, then find the player that hurt my man.” She has a fierce look in her eyes that tells me she isn’t kidding.
I nod in agreement because she’s right. That’s exactly how I felt, but I don’t know if it’s how I should feel.
Mia and Colton—they’re a forever thing.
They’re together.
Jesse and me.
There isn’t an us.
At least not yet.
26
Not Your Charity Case
Zoe
“Thanks for coming with me,” I say, turning to look at Emma, who still seems a little awestruck. She pushes her glasses up a little higher on her nose as she walks into the Football House beside me. She might be uncomfortable, but she’s here because I asked her to come—especially since we both skipped the celebration party last time, choosing to hang out at the dorm instead.
“Don’t mention it. Two hours though—that’s all I’m giving you,” she says sternly, like a mother reminding her child of their curfew.
“Yes, Mom,” I joke.
“Look, you don’t have to leave with me. You can stay.” She points at herself. “Me? I’m definitely going to go.”
I smile at her, then look up to see the house ahead of us. Some may call me a bad influence for dragging her away from her books and fictional characters and into the madness with me, but I’m okay with that. I just want her to live a little more too, like I am.
Last week, as much as I wanted to run over to the House after the game and make sure Jesse was okay, I didn’t. I already knew he was fine. I just needed time to process the reason why I’d felt the way I did when he was hurt—space to think about how I really feel about him.
This week though, I decided to come to the party despite my reservations, because when it comes to Jesse, I can’t stay away for too long. I haven’t talked to him in the last couple of days, and I feel off-kilter because of it. He doesn’t know I’m coming either, so I hope he likes surprises.
We’ve just stepped onto the front path when a shirtless guy races past us, nearly knocking Emma over. I pull her out of the way just in time.
“Seriously, why do people even find parties appealing?” she says, glaring at the rowdy crowd.
I grab her hand and enter through the front door. “Free beer?” I answer, heading straight to the kitchen so that we can grab some drinks.
Going straight to one of the coolers, I grab a can of beer, pouring it into a red cup. I offer it to Emma, but she scrunches her nose. “Beer is gross. I prefer wine.”
“You’re an old soul. Wine and books.”
She sighs blissfully. “Wine and books are literally life.”
“Well, there’s no wine here, so you’ll have to lower your standards for tonight.”
“Seriously?” she asks, and I think she’s outraged at the lack of wine.
I laugh. “Let loose for the next two hours. Drink some beer, have fun, then you can escape to your fictional world.”
“Define let loose…”
“Dance with me?”
“Nope, not happening.”
“Come on,” I insist, grabbing her hand and walking us over to the living room, where bodies are pressed against each other, moving out of sync to the weird mix that’s playing.
She fights me every step of the way. “I don’t wanna! I don’t dance! Why don’t you go find Jesse?!”
“I came here with you—not him,” I remind her. Although he’s definitely the reason I showed up.
“But you came here for him,” she says, reading my thoughts.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Don’t lie to yourself,” Emma shouts over the music. “You know that’s why we’re here.”
“We’re just here to enjoy the party—to live a little,” I add.
“So, you’re saying it has nothing to do with the fact that you spend your every free moment with Jesse?”
“I spend my time with you!”
She gives me a look I can only interpret as incredulity. “You have this last week, which makes me suspicious.”
“Emma, I like spending time with you.”
“You also like spending time with him. A couple of weeks ago, you guys were at the hospital together.”
“We were visiting Maria, so that doesn’t count.”
“Okay, and what about the day after that?”
Dammit!
“I ran an errand with him. He wanted someone to accompany him to the store.”
“And the day after that one?”
“Okay! I know where you’re going with this. Maybe I have been spending a lot of time with him, but that’s what you do with friends. I’ve spent the last week nagging you to do stuff with me.”
“Just friends, huh? At least for now.”
Her unfinished statement hangs over my head, because she’s right—I don’t want to just be his friend. I want so much more.
“You haven’t been spending time with him this week, though.”
“Nope,” I reply. I’ve barely spoken to him at all. When he messaged me, I told him I wanted to spend some time with Emma. That was my excuse, and I think he bought it.
“I haven’t seen him here either. I’ve been trying to find him so I can hand you off to him and finally make my escape,” she says candidly, and I laugh. I know Jesse is probably outside in the back yard with the others, but I don’t want to go out there unless he takes me.
My favorite song starts playing. “Wow, I see what kind of friend you are. Now stop distracting me with conversation. We’ve gotta dance!” I grab her hand, forcing her to move to the music.
“Okay, my two hours are up!” Emma says as the song we’re dancing to comes to an end.
Surprisingly, she’s loosened up a lot, but I think it was less me and more the random bottle of white wine we were able to find in the fridge.
“Has it been two hours already?” I ask. It doesn’t really feel like it.
“Yes, ma’am; I timed it.”
I chuckle. “Of course you did.”
“Are you staying?” she asks. I chance another look around like I’ve been doing every five minutes for the last two hours, and still no luck. Jesse’s nowhere in
sight.
I didn’t talk to him during today’s game, or after. He didn’t even send me a message about winning. It’s been radio-silence from him, and it feels odd.
I really want to see him tonight, but I guess that’s not happening.
“I’ll come with,” I tell Emma, and I can’t hide the disappointment in my voice.
She searches my eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I think we’ve celebrated enough.” And so has everyone else. I swear everyone’s at this party…everyone but the one I really wanted to see.
“Okay, let’s go home!”
We make a beeline for the exit, bumping and running into a few people on the way. Right before reaching the door, the same shirtless guy from earlier runs straight into Emma, soaking her with the pitcher of beer he’s carrying.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” the guy slurs, clearly intoxicated.
“It’s okay,” Emma says, reminding me of how sweet she is. Any other girl would have likely lashed out, but not my roommate.
“The bathroom’s upstairs if you need it,” he says, looking genuinely apologetic. “I’m so sorry again.”
Emma looks to me. “Is it okay if we go to the bathroom before heading out?”
“Yes! I’ll come with.” We zig zag our way back through the masses and head to the stairs. When we reach the landing, we ask a few people for directions to the bathroom before someone finally tells us where it is.
“I’ll wait for you out here,” I tell Emma, who runs in the moment the door opens and another girl walks out.
“Thanks,” she says, pushing her glasses up on her face before shutting the door.
I lean against the opposite wall, waiting for Emma to finish up, getting lost in the buzz of voices.
“I haven’t seen Jesse tonight, have you?”
The mention of Jesse’s name causes me to turn my head to where I find two girls near the stairs with red cups in their hands. There’s a blonde girl, and a brunette, both wearing Greek letters on their shirts.
“Me neither! I was looking forward to hooking up with him!” the brunette says, and I’m consumed with anger just as quickly as the words leave her mouth. I love how she casually says, ‘hooking up with him’ like he’d just sleep with her. I don’t think he’s the type to do something like that…at least I hope he isn’t.
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