Page 98 of Hail Marry
“Spiral,” he says. “It’s called a spiral.”
“Whatever. How do you do it?”
He stares at me for a second, then grudgingly comes over and shows me where to place my fingers along the laces, how to stand, and the right form for throwing.
I feel eyes on me and glance up to find Luca watching. The way he’s looking at me sends a wave of heat through my body.
Rather than combust on the spot and risk burning Dallin, I follow the kid’s instructions. The ball spirals in the air toward Luca, albeit unevenly.
Luca catches it with ease.
“Ay-oh!” I turn to Dallin for a high-five.
He obliges unenthusiastically, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.
Luca’s smile, on the other hand, is less of a hint. It’s wide and genuine as he tosses the ball back to me in a perfect spiral.
“Show off!” I yell as the ball sails toward me.
I suppress the urge to duck and cover my head, and miraculously, the ball falls into my arms.
My mouth drops open, and I look at Dallin, like I need to be sure the miracle has another witness. “I caught it!” And that’s when I see Luca charging toward me.
“Now you run!” he yells to me, looking like a bull charging a matador. A very beautiful bull.
I turn and hightail it out of there with no idea of a destination, just the urgent need to outrun Luca and the competing desire to get caught. I’ve got a pretty large head start, at least.
My gaze catches on the end zone, and I sprint as fast as my untrained legs will carry me. I’m so close, I can taste it.
Luca’s quick footsteps draw nearer, and I glance frantically behind me just as my right foot crosses into the end zone. He scoops me up, then spins us around until I have no idea where we are.
On some level, I’m aware we’re being watched, but I don’t care. I’m too busy letting this happy moment play out where Luca and I are touching and smiling and laughing.
“Is this sort of tackle allowed?” I ask breathlessly, blinking as my vision starts to recalibrate.
“No,” he says. “But I’m willing to take the penalty.”
“Whatisthe penalty?”
His eyes hold mine for a second, full of playfulness.
“Touchdown!” One of the kids raises both hands in the air as he runs toward us, killing the moment.
I kind of want to chuck this ball at the kid’s knees, but instead, I slip out of Luca’s arms. “Hold this.” I hand the ball to him, then do my touchdown dance. It’s not something I’ve practiced. It’s not something I’m proud of. It’s a chaotic, spur-of-the-moment thing I couldn’t recreate even if I tried.
It’s probably revolting, but Luca stares at me with an affectionate smile. So I don’t stop. I will dance myself into the ground to keep that smile on his face.
Dallin approaches, and I pull him over in an effort to get him to join my antics. “You saw my amazing catch, right?” I ask as I keep dancing.
“It was actually just a perfect throw,” he says, very obviously not joining in.
“Pssht,” I say, even though I’m sure he’s right.
Luca and his mentee get called back to the group by Bennett, so he tosses the ball to Dallin and winks at me.
“So,” I say, my heart fluttering like I’m twelve. “You still think this is pointless?”
“Pointlessandembarrassing,” he says with the sort of ruthlessness only a teenager can manage.
