“For a new original Sadie Thompson, it will cost you …” Sadie’s hums trying to think of a number. “A hundred bucks. I’ll even sign it for you.”
“Deal.” I say as I pull out three hundred from my wallet. I remembered Ellie telling me that Sadie’s Venmo was messed up.
Sadie’s eyes go wide. “Archer this is way too much.”
I shrug, it definitely is not worth that much, but Sadie is Elle’s best friend and I know teachers don’t make nearly the amount they deserve. “I think it’s actually priceless, especially when I hang it up in the guestroom that Tyson tends to claim as his.”
Elle is trying to hold back a giggle, and I see Sadie trying to decide whether to actually accept the money. “Please Sadie.” I request. “At the risk of sounding like a huge douchebag, it’s really not alot of money for me, in fact I would offer you more, but I feel like you would kick me in the balls if I insinuated you needed the money.” I pray to all the higher powers that she doesn’t do just that at my statement.
Sadie’s eyes narrow and she puts the money in her cross body. “Fine, but I’m making you a companion piece to even it out.” I can’t tell if she’s joking or not, but I really don’t know what I would do with two pumpkin boob pictures.
“There’s really no need.” I say as she hands me her wine and paint project.
“Thanks again for helping out last night.” Sadie says as she gets in her car. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” She yells as she drives off.
My face must convey my confusion because Elle turns to me and explains. “We’re going to watch the game.”
“Oh! So she meant physically see me, not actually… got it.” After Sadie’s car is nothing but a blip on the horizon I turn to face Elle.
Elle is fidgeting nervously and before I can ask her what is wrong, her lips are on mine. Her lips are soft and taste like coffee and her vanilla ChapStick. I go to put my hands on her but she’s stepping away. “Thanks for everything Archer.” She gets in her car and drives back home, leaving me and my pumpkin boob painting in the parking lot. Wanting another taste.
Chapter 10
Elle
The air is crisp, a symphony of sounds, music, cheers, and general ruckus surrounds Sadie and I as we finish our mocktails. We’re pre-gaming in the parking lot of the Wolves home stadium affectionately called The Den. I’m in Archer’s jersey and Sadie is in her beloved Phantoms jersey.
We decided to drink mocktails today since it’s Sunday and we have school the next day. No one wants to teach elementary school hungover. I watch only what can be called a chaotic game of corn hole being played by some tailgaters next to us.
I’ve never been more anxious for a game, and the combination of smells has me wanting to gag. It smells like weed and barbecue. I sip more of my mocktail hoping the carbonation settles my stomach.
I didn’t tell Archer that we would be in the stands today. I planned on letting him know after the game. Just in case the game went south, not that I don’t believe in Archer, I have full faith in him, I just didn’t want to risk jinxing it. I’m a big believer in jinxes, especially when it comes to football. Just like my dad. I still wear my charm bracelet every time I go toa home football game.
Sadie tosses her mocktail and looks at me. “Ready to go in, the game starts in about twenty minutes.”
“Absolutely.” I finish the last of my mock mojito and walk arm and arm with Sadie to our seats. My stomach manages to settle as soon as we get to the seats. I don’t know if it’s being away from the smells or the mint from the mojito finally working its magic but I’m able to relax enough that I decide to risk the jinx. I send Archer a picture of me in his jersey in my seat at The Den. I don’t have more than a few minutes before the announcer’s voice comes through the loudspeakers. The Wolves former player Samuel Garcia’s voice booms through the loudspeaker building the hype, announcing the players, but I can’t really hear his words over the roar of the crowd.
The Wolves burst through the tunnel toSeven Nation Armyby The White Stripes, a sea of orange and gray helmets shining under the October sun. I jump to my feet and cheer with the crowd. Letting the energy of the stadium revitalize me.
The flag bearers step forward, holding the massive American flag as the anthem starts to play, and I quickly move my hand to my heart. The crowd stands, hats off, heads bowed in respect. I hear the singer’s voice echoing through the stadium. Her voice is clear and concise and as soon as she finishes that final note, I hear the rumble of jets quickly approaching. Fighter jets scream past overhead in perfect formation, their engines reverberating in my chest.
Ah, America. Before I can spare any more thoughts to the screaming fighter jets — the whistle blows, and the game begins.
Then-Freshman Year
Elle
“Fuck! No!” The guy next to me groans. Miles Gray, our first-string quarterback, is carted off the field with an apparent concussion. It’s the fourth quarter with 2 minutes left in the game. The air is thick with disappointment at the risk of losing our chance at the playoffs this year. The uneasiness does not dissipate as I hear the coach frantically adjusting the plays and formation. I nervously twist my good luck charm bracelet. The bracelet my dad bought me for Christmas years ago. Over the years we have filled it with charms together, my newest addition is my university’s logo. I’ve worn it to every home game I’ve attended and we’ve won. I hope it doesn’t fail me now.
After what seems like an eternity I see our second-string quarterback jog onto the field. I squint through my sunglasses, and I see the name Bell emblazoned across the back. Archer. My Archer, my first friend I’ve made at uni, is going out of the field for the first time in his collegiate career. The crowd is nervous and I don’t want him to feel like they’re expecting him to fail.
I make a decision, risking looking like a fool, hoping my runner’s lungs are good for something; I scream at the top of my lungs. “Let’s go Bell!” My cheer does exactly what I wanted it to do. The atmosphere shifts, no longer anxious and apprehensive, it shifts to hopeful, hopeful that Archer can keep theplayoff dreams alive.
The whistle blows, and the team is back on the line. From what I can tell Archer is doing his best to survey the defense. The ball is snapped and Archer moves. He spots one of our receivers breaking free down the sideline. He doesn’t hesitate. He cocks his arm back, and with a flick of his wrist, the ball is gone; flying through the air.
The ball sails through the air, and then the receiver catches the ball at the 15-yard line. He spins, avoiding a tackle and sprints toward the end zone. The noise of the crowd is near deafening as our receiver dives into the endzone.
Touchdown.
