Page 72 of Everything In Between
It’s right then that I realize I love her.
Everything else doesn’t matter—not the short-span of our relationship or any of the obstacles or potential conflicts standing in our way. Jersey was made for me, and I was made for her. We were always meant to find each other in this life, even if it took longer than we would have hoped.
She’s mine, and I’m hers.
That’s all there is to it.
TWENTY-SEVEN
hayes
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 22
Jersey
Good luck today, MVP
Her text comes through right as I’m boarding the team bus to head to the stadium. We’ve spent the last two weeks apart, but she flew into Milwaukee last night, planning to spend a few days here with me and my parents before having to fly back tomorrow for her recording session on Christmas Eve. I had to stay with the team in our team hotel, as we usually do the night before home games, so I didn’t get to see her last night. And I’m missing her, desperately.
Hayes
Cheer loud for me, okay? I wanna hear you down on that field.
Jersey
You got it, #18.
With one last lingering look at the screen, I power the phone down and focus on my pregame routine, shifting my mindset onthe way from the girl of my dreams to the Dallas Rampage—a team known for their impeccable and ruthless defense.
All last week I focused on footwork, perfecting my avoidance skills, knowing their linemen will be out for blood today. We’re nearing playoff season, so the stakes are high. I have my eyes set on the number one seed.
That Super Bowl ring will be ours.
By the time the team makes it to the stadium, I’m dead set on giving today my all, even if it kills me.
Beckett meets me at our neighboring cubbies in the locker room and we change out of our suits into our warm-up jerseys. When we hit the field, my focus zeros in on running through drills and getting my muscles and mind prepped for the battle ahead.
We lose the coin toss to the Dallas Rampage, so right from the start, I’m exiled to the sidelines, watching the first play shake out. My blood thrums through my veins as the adrenaline spikes. I’m itching to get out on that field and get that ball between my hands.
While I won’t turn down getting first dibs at the ball to start the game, I’m more content with getting the ball first in the second half—in fact, I prefer it. By then, I’ll have a feel for the game, a feel for the team. And if we’re leading, it allows us to keep that momentum, or if we’re trailing, it tells me how much work we have to take lead.
It doesn’t always shake out the way I want it, but that’s part of the game.
The Rampage came to win today, that’s for damn sure. Already, by the end of their first possession, they’ve scored the first touchdown of the game—a scoring drive with their tight end sneaking past all of our defenses.
I knew going in this would be a tough game, but the pressure amps up as I pull on my helmet to take the field. We’ve gotta keep up, otherwise they’ll stomp all over us.
In the huddle, my offensive lineup looks to me for direction, wondering which play we’ll attempt first to give us the best chance to get points on the board.
My brain whirls all over the plays we’ve been practicing and I finally settle on one Iknowwill work. After a quick glance down at the band on my forearm to make sure I read it right, I look up to see my teammates watching me expectantly. The heat of my breath swirls in the chilly air as I call, “Let’s go boys, Steer Right, Tether Flex, Flip Zebra, Can 42 Slide on one.”
The team breaks and we get into formation. I position myself a few yards behind Quentin, geared up for the pass.
I give the call, and the ball is snapped right into my hands and the play begins. I bound back a few steps, staying on the balls of my feet so I can maneuver around the pocket as Beckett and the rest of the strong side of the offense holds the defense. My eyes track my teammates, waiting for the perfect opportunity for the pass.
While my eyes are down the field, in my periphery, I see someone barreling toward me. I dodge away from them, my footwork paying off as I spin away and gain a few yards down the field.
That was close.
