Page 68 of Every Move You Make

The only thing sweeter than starting my senior year of college is seeing Robyn Cassidy sprinting across an empty rugby field and jumping in my arms1.

“Icy!” she squeals as she koalas herself around my body and I chuckle. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too.” More than she realizes. We both spent the summer working and training our asses off—her back home in Minnesota, and me across different camps up and down the East Coast. Thankfully my landscaping job was pretty flexible and allowed me to miss a week here and there.

I’ve been a bundle of nerves all week knowing I’d see her today, knowing I’d be asking her the question I’ve been ruminating on for weeks now. Ever since I broke up with Jessica, I’ve allowed myself to finally acknowledge my feelings for Robyn. Jess deeply hurt me, but the sorrow I felt over losing her was quickly beaten down by the prospect of being together with Robyn. With her in my arms, like she is now, everythingclicks into place.

She smells like Tiger Balm—like camphor, menthol and clove—and I smile. Some people hate that scent, but I love it on her. It’s for pain relief and she only wears it because of rugby, and I’m lucky enough to see her like this. I’m lucky to be part of her inner circle and truly know her.I'm lucky enough to have once massaged it into her skin.

She hops down from our embrace and runs back to her team for warm-up. “I’ll find you after our games. I have so much to tell you!” she cheers.

“Me too!” I wave back. Dane, who’s now a sophomore at my college, is lacing up his boots next to me and snorts. “What?”

He looks down at the knots he’s tying and sings, “Robyn and Isaiah, kissin’ in a tree…”

I smack his head. “My hand slipped. Sorry.”

“Ass.”

Of course Robyn plays like the machine she is, plowing over people and even scoring two tries over my college women’s team. She’s definitely improved since I watched her last. If I thought she was fast before, it’s nothing compared to now. She’s like a gazelle.

She plays the full eighty and tears her scrum cap off as she walks off the pitch with an exhausted smile.

Our game follows hers, and even though the women’s teams have already left the field to start the social, she stays back to watch and cheer. Not for her college men’s team. Not even for mine. But for me.

She’s the one.

I know it.

“Good game, Zay,” she smiles, handing me a beer after we enter the social at, once again, someone’s grody off-campus house.

“You too.” We clink our plastic cups and I take a fortifying sip and pray for courage. “Can I talk to you outside, actually?”

“Yeah. It’s too crowded here anyway.”

The late afternoon sun is still warm as we head to the backyard where there are a couple small groups of players talking and laughing.

“Sorry we couldn’t see much of each other over the summer,” I say as we both take a seat on a small grassy hill.

“I know, me too. My dad was on my ass all summer training me.”

“I can’t imagine what it would be like having two former Olympians as parents.”

She sighs dramatically but doesn’t say anything before taking a drink.

I stare at my beer and say it. “I broke up with Jessica.”

“What?”

I nod. “A few weeks ago. I caught her cheating on me.”

“Oh my god! What—how?”

“I don’t think you knew this, but she and I never had sex. She was waiting for marriage,” I say and venture a glance to see Robyn's eyebrows high. “Which, I was fine with. I’m not really one to have those strong urges with someone right away anyway. It takes time for me.”

“Okay,” she whispers.

“So you could imagine my surprise when I walked in on her having full, penetrative sex with the guy from her Bible study.”

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