Page 30 of Remember Me

I found them exactly where my mother had said, my father looking mildly uncomfortable in his brand-new Crossbills jersey while my mother chatted animatedly with an older couple in Rattlesnakes gear.

“There she is!” Mom called as she spotted me, waving enthusiastically as if I might miss her in the crowd. “We were just talking about you.”

I kissed her cheek, then my father's, before turning to the other couple. “I hope she was telling you all good things.”

“Only the best,” the woman assured me with a warm smile.

As we made our way to the private box level, the stadium screens began showing the pre-game festivities. There were cuts of celebrities, highlights from both teams' seasons with dramatic music building the anticipation for kick off.

My stomach tightened with nerves as though I was the one about to play in front of millions. It was always like this before Tanner's games. The vicarious anxiety, the helpless knowledge that I could do nothing but watch and hope he stayed safe.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Dad asked, his weathered hand finding my shoulder. “You look a little pale.”

I nodded, giving him a tight smile. “Just nervous for Tanner.”

“He'll be fine,” Dad assured me. “That boy was born for games like this.”

We reached the private box level just as the announcer's voice boomed through the stadium, introducing the first of the Rattlesnakes players. I quickened my pace, not wanting to miss Tanner's moment.

The private box was already crowded when we entered with Tanner’s entire family there. Cousins, uncles, grandparents, and there were a few people I hadn’t met before. I immediately spotted Thea and Jackson near the front row of seats, Thea's sleek professional outfit contrasting with Jackson's slightly uncomfortable-looking suit.

“Aster!” Thea exclaimed, breaking away from her conversation to embrace me. “Just in time! They're about to announce the Crossbills.”

I introduced my parents quickly, then followed Thea to the glass front of the box where we could see the field clearly. Jackson was engaged in what appeared to be an overly enthusiastic conversation with Tanner's father, his hands gestured wildly as he described something that had Mr. Joyce nodding politely.

“Is he okay?” I whispered to Thea, nodding toward Jackson.

She rolled her eyes, though fondness softened her expression. “He's terrified of my dad. Always has been. Something about him being a 'real man's man' or whatever. So he compensates by being... extra Jackson.”

I stifled a laugh, recognizing the truth in her assessment, watching our friend fumble over his words.

“And now,” the announcer's voice boomed, “your Charlotte Crossbills!”

The stadium erupted as spotlight beams crisscrossed the darkened field. One by one, the starting lineup was announced, each player running through a tunnel of smoke and fire to thunderous applause.

“Devin Walker, Defense.” the announcer called, and the crowd's roar intensified as Devin sprinted onto the field, arms raised in acknowledgment.

My heart hammered in anticipation as the rest of the defensive team were announced. Then came the offense. It was only after every other player had entered the field that I knew it was time for him.

“Tanner Joyce. Quarterback.”

The crowd erupted at his name, and there he was. My Tanner, racing through the tunnel, his powerful frame cutting through the artificial smoke as 70,000 people cheered. In that moment, watching him take his place on the field, I was struck by how far we'd come when he first insulted me in the library at Covey U.

Back then I just thought he was an arrogant jock with a chip on his shoulders who’s reading skills didn’t match his athletic prowess. I vowed never to help him, yet, here we are, seven years later. Together. It felt surreal, watching the man I loved commanding the attention of millions and on the biggest stage possible.

This is it, I thought, a lump forming in my throat. This is everything.

“He looks good out there,” my mother murmured beside me, slipping her arm through mine.

“He does,” I agreed, unable to tear my eyes away from Tanner as he jogged to the sideline, helmet tucked under his arm.

The National Anthem began, and we all stood, hands over hearts. I barely heard the singer, my mind racing with the magnitude of the day.

As the anthem concluded and the crowd erupted once more, my mother leaned close. “You know, your father and I were talking on the drive here. We wouldn't be surprised if Tanner has something special planned for today.”

I turned to her with furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”

Her knowing smile made my stomach flip. “Just a feeling,” she said with a shrug that wasn't nearly as casual as she intended. “Big game, both families here, that boy looking at you like you hung the moon... it adds up.”

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