too late. I find myself quickly approaching the twenty-yard line, then the tenth.
When I’m close enough, I take a look behind and see the guys chasing after me. No way they’ll reach me, so I dance my way into the end zone.
I watch as the ref lifts both hands in the air, calling it a touchdown. I focus on the announcers as I hear their confusion over what happened. I look at the opposing sideline and watch the red flag on the field as their Coach challenges the call. I mean, the touchdown would be reviewed anyway, so I’m not sure why he threw the flag. Anger makes people do crazy things; I should know.
My teammates run over to me, Lincoln surprisingly reaching me first. “What just happened?” he asks, a little winded.
“I never touched the floor,” I tell him and the rest of the guys who surround me.
They pat me on the helmet. “Seriously?” Lincoln asks.
I nod. “When they took me down, I landed on top of them. I never touched the floor and neither did the ball. There was no whistle either, so the play was live.”
The guys look at me in disbelief. Then, we all turn to watch the replay on the screens. They repeat the video, showing four different frames. It takes seconds for everyone to realize what I knew the entire time.
“The call on the field stands, touchdown!” The ref says and the call is followed by chants from all around the stadium. I look around and take in the familiar Hunter chants. I try to find Amelia but fail as the sea of people is too large to make her out.
Next time she comes to a game, I’ll give her tickets to the suite. The best seats for the mother of my child. That feels so weird to say but I don’t mind it.
I watch from the sidelines as our defense sacks their quarterback a third time. It’s now third and twenty and the game is practically sealed. With less than ten seconds left on the clock, their offense calls a predictable Hail Mary.
Following the quarterback with my eyes, I standing on the sideline waiting for the ball to be snapped. He takes a few steps back then the ball leaves his hand. I watch the ball in the air then look around the back field for any open receivers.
Just as the ball comes down, it’s batted away by one our safeties, Ramirez, for an incomplete pass. We jump up and down in excitement when we look at the clock and notice there’s no time left.
We run to the field as we celebrate yet another victory. Another game closer to the National Championship. Another game closer to winning it all.
After celebrating with my teammates for a few minutes, I turn to see the cheerleaders still hyping up the crowd. I can’t help it; I walk away from my teammates and straight toward them.
The moment I approach, I pretend to do one of their dances, which makes the crowd laugh. I’m happy, really happy right now and making a fool of myself is just what I do.
The girls on the team turn to me and laugh.
Instantly, one of them breaks formation, or whatever you call it, and walks over to me. I recognize her from some of our parties. “Great game out there,” she says.
“Thank you!” I reply.
She places her hand on my arm, “Are we celebrating today?” she asks, batting her eyes at me. I look at her arm and remove it from its resting place.
“I’m sure the guys are,” I tell her then watch as she pouts.
I walk around her, not wanting anything to do with her. “Elia,” I say, and she looks around at the other girls before walking over to me. I don’t miss the envy in her teammates’ eyes as she walks toward me.
“Yes?” she asks as she reaches me. I know she’s not used to me talking to her in public either because I never do. Our friendship has been limited to her house. But hey, there’s no reason why I can’t bother her around others now.
“I like this uniform,” I tell her. “Fits your personality,” I add.
She rolls her eyes. “Shut up. What do you want?” she asks.
“Your sister,” I tell her, and the words just roll out of my tongue. “I mean, I want to know where she is,” I clarify.
“Sure you do,” she says with a knowing smile. “She’s over there!” she says, pointing to the