Page 44 of #Awestruck

I did know. I wondered how Evan had known it would be just what I wanted. “Just play it cool. Let’s join the others.”

We found spots on the couch, Aubrey curling up next to her husband. The announcers, Scooter Buxton and Keith Collinsworth, were chatting about the Jacks. A moving picture of Evan flashed up on the TV screen. I paused, my slice of pizza halfway to my mouth.

“What are we thinking will happen today with Number 4, Evan ‘Awesome’ Dawson? Do you think his game against the Raiders will be at all affected?” Keith asked.

“What Keith’s talking about is the fact that Dawson recently got engaged,” Scooter explained to the audience. “We’re hearing the lucky lady is ISEN intern Ashton Bailey. He recently cheered her on at a local intramural basketball game.”

I nearly dropped my pizza when I saw the clip they put up next. It was a video of Evan at my game, yelling, “Way to go, Ashton!” Somebody had recorded it on their cell phone. It was wobbly and a bit blurry, but there was no mistaking Evan for anyone else.

Why were they showing this? No NFL fan cared.

Present company excluded.

“She’s here in the Forest today with her family. Do you think she’ll be a distraction for the nearly flawless ‘Awesome’ Dawson?”

“That’s hard to predict,” Scooter responded. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Interestingly enough,” Keith interjected as they went back to showing the inside of the stadium, “Ashton Bailey is the granddaughter of Harold and Evelyn Bailey, founders of the Jumping Jacks charity, which so many of our players and Lumberjills support. It raises money to help pay for treatment of sick children and for their families to be able to stay on-site with them. The Baileys lost their oldest daughter to bacterial meningitis when she was eleven, and they formed the charity in her name.”

I turned, my mouth hanging open, to stare at my dad. He didn’t like to talk about his older sister, Jennifer, and her death. My grandma had nicknames for everyone, and they’d called Jennifer their jumping bean, which became part of the name for the charity founded in her honor. My mom had her arm around my dad, her head on his shoulder.

It had never occurred to me that the media would bring my family into this. I had thought it would just be me. But now they were talking about my grandparents and my aunt. Who would it be next week? My parents? My sisters? Charlotte and Joey? I really hadn’t thought this through. What would be the effects of me pretending to be engaged to Evan?

“I’m so sorry, Dad.” My words felt inadequate. There was no way to make this up to him.

“For what?” He looked legitimately confused. “Everything they just said is public knowledge.”

“But what happens when they start sharing not-public knowledge?”

My father contemplated this and then said, “I get to see my little girl happily married and get Evan Dawson as a son-in-law. Which means he’ll be part of the Baileys. And we’ll figure out a way to deal with it. The Baileys stick together, no matter what.”

Guilt, which seemed to be my primary emotion lately, filled my chest and made me feel weighed down. I didn’t know what I would do if the media tried to hurt my family.

I needed to talk to Evan about this.

The announcers were discussing the Raiders’ starting lineup, and my mom asked Rory how she’d done on her most recent art project while Aubrey and my dad talked about a case they were working on together. Normalcy resumed, and I was finally able to eat my now-cold pizza. Still delicious.

The players took the field, and the stadium went nuts when the Jacks ran out from the tunnel.

Mario came over and began to clear our dishes, which we all immediately protested. We got up and helped clean our own mess with him showing us where to put our emptied plates. He then took our drink orders and reminded us that the game was about to begin.

Then it was time for the kickoff. Everybody else sat back down on the couch, but I wandered over to stand near the windows, not blocking anyone’s view. I was not watching the special team come out onto the field.

I was scanning the sidelines for Evan.

Finn MacNeil ran up to kick the football, and at the moment his foot connected with the ball, everyone in the stadium shouted, “Tim ... ber!” It was thrilling as always to hear seventy thousand people yelling the same thing at the same time.

“Even the way he kicks is hot,” Rory said with a sigh.

“Come sit down,” my mom said to me.

But I was too anxious. Edgy. And I didn’t know why. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry about the Raiders,” my dad said. “The Jacks have got this handled.”

The Raiders were stopped on their forty-three-yard line and had possession. The defensive line did their job and only let them gain about six yards.

“Fourth down,” I murmured.

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