Page 137 of Fighting Spirit

“You couldn’t have dated a girl with an earlier surname? Baxter? Armstrong? All good names.”

“Shut your mouth,” I growl at him. He finally relents with a huff, going back to idly thumbing through the graduation program.

Ruth’s dad leans forward, speaking over where her mom’s sat in the seat beside me. “Are you and Ruth joining us for dinner after this?”

“I don’t think so, Sir,” I murmur back. “We’ve made other plans.”

He nods and settles back into his seat. I’m still on ‘Sir’ and ‘Ma’am’ terms with them. Ruth’s relationship with her parents isn’t as combative as it once was, but I don’t know that things’ll ever be considered cozy.

About a month into Ruth’s junior year, she finally had it out with them, telling them she'd cut them off if they didn’t accept her for who she is. None of it was easy, but I’m so damn proud of her.

Tonight, I’m taking Ruth to this new Italian place that just opened. It’s fancy as all hell and has the added benefit of being where Trevor just started working as a line cook, which is probably the only reason I managed to get a reservation. I figured that even with her and her parents' progress, she wouldn’t want to spend the evening with them when she’s celebrating.

Trevor flicks to the page that displays the W’s. “Isn’t liberal arts what they give you when you can’t make up your mind?” He points to the major listed under Ruth’s name.

“Sometimes, but she picked it.” I take the booklet out of his hands, not wanting him to crease it. “She was into too many different classes, didn’t want to specialize.”

“I didn’t know that was an option!” he hisses. “I totally would have done that!”

“Can you two keep it down?” Ruth’s mom interrupts.

Trevor mimes zipping his lips, even as he throws me a devious smirk. I tried telling him that today was only family, but he wouldn’t hear it. Come to think of it, I have no idea how he even managed to get a ticket?

We don’t live together anymore, a year after I started the coaching job, I moved into a tiny house on the Beaufort town line. It took a lot of convincing (and slowly moving her stuff across with her noticing), but I finally persuaded Ruth to move in there eight months ago. It’s been the best time of my life waking up to her every morning, but fuck if I don’t miss Trevor’s cooking.

When they finally announce Ruth’s name, I’m up on my feet, hooting and hollering like we just won the Super Bowl. I haveto wipe a stray tear away as I see her striding across that stage, beaming so brightly I can’t miss it even fifty rows back. Fuck, I’m so God damn proud of her. It’s taken a lot for her to get to this point, even with the support she’s had from the school. It’s not been an easy road, but she’s worked for it every step of the way, and now she’s here, the sun glinting off her hair as she has her moment in the light.

I don’t notice her hands until she reaches out to take her diploma, but when she does, I can’t contain the boom of laughter that comes out of me. There’s an awkward moment as she tries to take the scroll, struggling to hold it and eventually tucking it under her arm. As she stands and waves to the crowd, she reveals the giant foam hands on the end of each arm, the ones I first took off those years ago, the ones that started all this.

The crowd goes nuts and she basks in it, doing a little twirl and soaking up all the applause that’s finally all for her, before she bows and bounces off the stage.

My fuckin’ girl.

She hugs Clara tightly as they leave the ceremony, promising to get together sometime this week. The force with which she runs into my arms when she sees me almost knocks me off my feet, and I have to take a step back to avoid losing my balance. “I’m so proud of you, Frog,” I speak into her neck, “So fuckin’ proud.”

When I set her on her feet, she’s laughing, even as her eyes shine with moisture. I’m about to say more when Trevor shoves me aside to wrap her into a hug of his own. “Damn, Homewrecker, you did good!”

“Right?” she yells excitedly, doing a little dance.

“You look good in that hat.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I cuff him over the back of the head.

“And the hands?” She lifts up the Gunther gloves, which she’s now holding.

“Are you supposed to have those?” I ask, remembering how forlorn she’d been about having to turn in the costume at the end of the season.

She spent a couple of months training up the freshman who’s going to take over, hopefully to continue the legacy she’s created. She ended up having so much fun with the teaching that she got a job at a local cheer and dance center, teaching kids.

I don’t know if it’s what she wants to do forever, but she’s excited about it now, and that’s all that anyone can really ask for. Plus, it’ll be fun to have two coaches in the house, even if Trevor’s threatening to stop coming over in case ‘the constant motivational energy chokes him.’

Ruth just shrugs. “Probably not.”

Her parents interrupt us to congratulate her and say their goodbyes, claiming they need to get on the road before traffic. I don’t miss the tiny flash of disappointment in Ruth’s eyes as they walk away, and I throw an arm around her shoulders, dropping a hard kiss on the top of her head.

“Come on, you delinquent. Let’s get out of here before someone sees those.”

“I couldn’t leave them behind. We never would have gotten together if I hadn’t left them in that house.”

“I think we would have.”

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