Page 109 of Redemption
The double duo—the perfect team.
Nausea rolls through my stomach. I should go. I shouldn’t wait to see who wins the bet because it won’t lead us anywhere good.
But my limbs are frozen, stuck in place watching as Hayes sets his helmet against Langston’s, a heated discussion between the two.
I can’t see their lips, but if I were a betting woman, I would bet Hayes is trying to get the ball in his hands for the winning touchdown.
The two join the huddle. The players get set on the line, waiting for the snap.
And when the ball flies from the center to Langston’s waiting hands, the enormity of this moment thrums in the air.
It’s not just a game on the line. It’s my heart.
Time freezes as Langston’s eyes find Hayes wide open in the end zone. The ball leaves his hand, flying through the air. The noise that has been overwhelming all night becomes muted—my heartbeat overriding it all.
The ball sails flawlessly through the air, finding Hayes with no effort, and it all comes rushing back: the noise, the crowd, and the fact that Hayes won the game and the bet.
My arms shoot in the air, and I’m jumping with fans around me.
Hayes rips his helmet off, and I can see his smile even from halfway down the field.
It’s beautiful and contagious.
He runs down the sideline, surrounded by his teammates, and when he’s close enough to me, he winks.
Looking around the field, I search for Langston. He’s on the other side, doing a player interview. Hayes must realize that because he rushes towards the stands, jumping up to the bleachers.
My laugh is light and free and happy. I hadn’t realized how stressed I’ve been about Langston until I felt what it was like to be weightless. That’s what this moment is for me—weightless.
Hayes’s hair hangs in his eyes, sweaty from his helmet. My hand clings to the front of his jersey as I smile up at him.
“I win.” He leans in, saying it close to my ear so I can hear him over the crowd, and when he pulls back, there’s a grin on his face.
“And what exactly is it you win?” I ask, still clinging to him.
“You. I win you, MJ. Go on a date with me.”
It’s a demand, one that I know I’m free to say no to because that’s the thing about Hayes: he doesn’t stop me from making my own decisions. But I don’t want to say no to him, not anymore.
So I lean in, dropping my lips to his, and when I pull back, his eyes are wide. “Yes, Hayes. I’ll go on a date with you.”
Chapter 33
Hayes
“Wrap it up, boys.”
I blow my whistle and let it drop to my chest. Campbell stands beside me, and the boys jog toward us, scooping up their water bottles.
It’s the first practice after our trip, and I’ve given them an hour to settle in—but now it’s time to talk.
Once they are close enough to hear me, I say, “Take a knee.”
One by one, they all lower to the ground on one knee and wait. Not once have I ever felt like I was just here to coach football, but this moment feels bigger than any game we might ever play.
Some people say I’m being dramatic, but this moment could be the difference between life and death for some of these boys—it was for Langston.
Searching through the sea of kids, I look for the one boy closer to downfall than any of them.
