“Be casual!” Joss jokes, acting like she’s about to flip it off.
“Joss, we all know your feelings about the sports reporters but let’s maybe not get thrown out of this gorgeous suite. Okay? Okay.” Violet wraps her arms around her and hugs her.
Wren turns up the volume on the TV so we can hear what they’re saying about us all.
“As you can see, the Westfield family clearly has a favorite in tonight’s game, and it’s not Coach Westfield. They’re all wearing Phantom jerseys or colors in that box save for one person,” reporter one says as the screen zooms in on Easton and then Madison in the frame.
“Although their mother is in her own seats with the team owner, and she is very definitely in Chicago Blaze colors” the second reporter adds.
“Apparently, it’s that kind of night. We might see some family bloodshed depending on who wins.”
“Well, we all know Tobias Westfield is a fan favorite. Especially after his recovery from that awful motorcycle accident that happened mid-season.” The screen flashes an image that was taken that night, and I cringe a little seeing it again.
Sometimes it’s hard to believe Tobias made it out alive at all given that he wasn’t wearing a helmet. The fact that he came out with road rash and a hip fracture to what could have been his death isn’t lost on me, or him most days. And I’m glad that after his reckoning with everything he’s doing so much better.
But I also can’t help but feel like the rest of the girls. Tonight is a must-win game. Not just for the guys as a team and a family, but for guys like Tobias and Xander who have fathers to prove wrong and legacies that deserve championships written next to them rather than asterisks.
Which iswhy when we’re deep in the fourth quarter, three points down with time dwindling fast I’m up on my feet with the rest of the girls, holding Harper’s hand as we watch another play blown dead with no gain.
“Oh my god. My heart can’t take this!” Joss grouches.
“Get used to it.” Violet shakes her head.
“They’ve got this. It’s gonna be fine.” Wren looks over at us from where she, Mackenzie, and Olivia stand. “Sorry, Liv. You knew you were in the viper’s den when you came up here.”
“It’s fine. I want Liam to be happy but hard not to root for the guys too.” Olivia’s brow creases with her concern and divided loyalties.
They set up for another play and one half of the crowd quiets while the other half ratchets up their screaming. Colt steps back in the pocket, looking deep while Ben and Tobias take off from the line. He launches the ball, a perfect throw, before he dodges a lineman who was inches away from sacking him. I squeeze Harper’s hand while we watch the ball sail down the field, holding our breath and praying one of the guys is open.
I dig my teeth into my lower lip as I see Tobias’s number flash across the field and the ball come down in his direction just as he’s about to be hit. He jumps extending his hand and grabbing the ball, holding it up as he and the other player tumble to the ground in a mass of limbs, helmets, and pads. But they’re well inside the end zone and the crowd goes wild as the refs hold up their hands to signal a touchdown.
We all lose our minds, screaming and hugging each other. I hear my dad holler and watch as he and Easton high-five before Wren jumps into Easton’s arms. Mackenzie jumps up and down and Olivia is a good sport about it all, high-fiving her as she grins at the rest of us.
“Oh my god!” Harper yells and hugs me tight, Violet and Joss piling on a second later.
“I’m so fucking proud of him!” Tears start to come to my eyes, and my heart swells. I watch on the screen as the guys do their post-touchdown celebration, grinning at how happy he looks as he makes his way to the sideline. His coach slaps him on the ass looking like he just won the lottery.
It takes a minute for us all to calm down and catch our breaths. The kick is good, thanks to Nick and Gabe, and we do another cheer for them.
That’s when we see the time on the clock. Thirty seconds still left. The Blaze’s QB is famous for two things: his plays under pressure and his ability to throw deep. Olivia’s husband, Coach Montgomery, trained him well. What’s worse is Coach Westfield is infamous for his clock management, and he has two timeouts still on his side. Which means thirty seconds is an eternity for the Blaze to put points up. One touchdown would mean it’s over for us, and we’ve all just exchanged knowing looks.
FIFTY-THREE
Tobias
Colt,Ben, Waylon, and I all watch nervously on the sidelines while some of the other guys ready the Gatorade. We’ve burned the time down to twelve seconds, making them fight hard for every inch they’ve gotten and they’re still only at midfield.
Our defense just has to hold them here on this next play. Everyone’s up on the line and the ball snaps. I’m counting to ten to keep calm while I watch Xander come off the line with perfect timing. He dodges one lineman and then another and takes five more steps that feel like they take five more minutes.
His hand collides with the quarterback’s and the ball goes sailing in the wrong direction. He and two of the other defense guys chase after it, another guy tipping it, and Xander catches it just as they all land in a pile as the game clock hits zeroes.
It takes a moment, more than that really, for me to recognize we’ve done the thing our team hasn’t done in decades—we’ve won the whole fucking thing. Waylon slaps me on the back.
“We fucking did it!” His blue eyes light up, and he high-fives Ben before he slaps me on the ass, and we all start running for the center of the field where Xander’s holding up the ball while half the defense lifts him up into the air.
I see Gatorade go flying out of the corner of my eye, dousing our head coach and several other members of the coaching staff who didn’t flee in time. Confetti falls from the sky, the lights go wild, and the crowd is in a full-on roar while the music hits a crescendo. By the time I get to Xander his feet are back on the ground and there are tears in his eyes.
It makes me fucking cry in response, and we hug each other.
