can’t stand that I thought he was some perfect guy, and he turned out to be the total opposite.
“Ellie.” Noah says my name in a low voice, gesturing for me to get up and follow him around the corner.
“What is it?”
“Come here.” Noah nods. “I need to talk to you.”
I get up, happily taking the excuse to not be looking at Matt for a few minutes, and walk behind Noah to the side of the stands by an empty wall.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Look, El. I don’t know everything that happened between Matt and Dad and Richardson and all that, but I have a feeling that Dad and Paul might have been to ones to make some sort of decision. Not Matt.”
I cross my arms and fight a swell of emotion, looking away. “No. He made up his mind.”
“That’s what Dad told you, I know. But, Ellie…” He grabs my shoulders and levels his gaze with mine. “I know he cared about you. A lot. I saw it on his face in the hospital that day. He loves you.”
My heart tugs.
“And don’t you think it’s a little fishy that this happened because Dad’s cocky, slimy lawyer had a conversation with him?”
“Dad wouldn’t lie to me…” I look back at my family. “Would he?”
“I don’t know. But Paul Richardson would lie. He lies in his sleep. Just…maybe try and talk to Matt after the game.”
I swallow. “He won’t talk to me. I told you, he made up his mind. It doesn’t even matter what Matt said or didn’t say, because he clearly didn’t want me.” My voice breaks, and I fight the tidal wave of pain that crashes over me. “That part is obvious.”
“All I’m saying is Dad generally gets what he wants. He controls people. And he wanted Matt to walk away from you. And Richardson was happy to be a pawn in that game.”
My mind starts spinning and racing.
“Yes!” Clay’s exclamation breaks my stream of thought.
I look up to see the ball flying through the air, having been thrown by Matt. Voices and sounds are hushed around us as it soars.
Explosions of cheers and hollering erupt as Leo Sterling snags it out of the air and runs it right into the end zone.
“Hell yeah!” Jayson shouts.
Ethan and Clay shove each other and stand up, jumping and fist-bumping.
“Thank God,” Noah says with a laugh.
I swallow a wave of emotion and watch Matt celebrate. One of the guys yanks his helmet off and smacks his head, all of them high-fiving and pushing each other and hollering.
He’s smiling. He’s laughing. He’s soaking in the spotlight and the glory. He still hasn’t looked at me.
I fight a tear and thank God the game is half over.
Twenty-eight
Matt
Up until that forty-yarder to Sterling right before halftime, I completely sucked the whole first half. I know I did.
It’s the fourth quarter now, tensions are unbelievably high, and the stadium is roaring. Other than us kicking one field goal—thank you, Rivera—nobody scored in the third quarter. Defense on both sides is angry and ready for anything.
I glance up at the scoreboard, gritting my teeth. Twenty-one to seventeen. Three minutes to play.
Coach ripped me a new one in the locker room at halftime, but I know I had it coming. I played like shit those first two quarters and couldn’t really make any decent moves in the third. I could chalk it up to pressure. I could say I’m in my head. I could blame the Patriots for being just too fucking good.
But none of that is true. My brain has been totally consumed by twisting and swirling thoughts of Ellie. I’ve had about nine thousand flashbacks of my conversation with that lawyer and even more of the disappointment in my Grandma’s eyes when I told her I listened to him.
And her calling me a pussy. Yeah, that stuck with me.
Someone hands me a bottle of Gatorade as I sit on the bench while the Patriots have the ball.
Please, fucking please, just don’t score.
I take a swig of the drink and clench my fist, closing my eyes and wishing I could have played this game with an even remotely clear head.
Something feels painfully and undeniably off today.
I know she’s sitting right behind the sideline. I know where the Vices are. I haven’t been able to physically even look in that direction this entire game.
Laying eyes on her would be the nail in the coffin of me completely fucking up the Super Bowl.