Another third and inches, just outside the red zone. Holt, our kicker, was a pretty sure thing forty-five yards or less. Fin needed to get us closer.
This time, I watched for the fake.
It wasn’t a fake. Fin handed the ball to Morgan, our fullback. The O line opened the gap. Morgan was stopped at the fifteen-yard line. It was a great run. “Good job, Morgan,” I said to myself.
Drew called a time-out.
From my earpiece I heard Drew’s side of the conversation with Fin. From what I could decipher, Fin wanted to go for the touchdown. While I couldn’t voice my opinion, I agreed. Drew told him not to do anything heroic. We had time to settle for the field goal.
After the snap, Fin settled for a short pass to Patel. As he threw, the ball was tipped.
It sailed into the air.
Time stood still as it was narrowly missed by Denver’s defensive end and hit the ground. The ball was dead. Up on the jumbotron, I saw the replay. As Fin threw, he was hit from the side and slow to get up.
Whistles blew.
Tilson, Drew, and the medical team ran onto the field.
My heart ached in my chest as I stood helplessly on the sidelines.
CHAPTER 30
Vee
The stadium applauded as Fin got to his feet and made his way to the sideline and into the blue medical tent. Through the earpiece, I heard Tilson call for Simpson to go in. My stomach dropped. Fin wouldn’t want his last play of the game to be a tipped pass.
Troy looked at me.
I covered my mouth with my notes. “They’re sending Cody in.”
Troy pressed his lips together and turned back to the field. We lost three yards with the fumble. That made this second down and thirteen. Drew called RPO. The ball was snapped. Simpson had the ball. Hestepped back, scanning, scanning. Denver’s defense closed in. Simpson threw to Ramel Patel, wide receiver. Patel caught and tucked the ball at the thirty-eight-yard line. JD Downing blocked, running alongside Patel all the way to the end zone.
After the extra point, we were up fourteen to ten.
On the jumbotron, I saw Fin leave the medical tent and let out a relieved breath when I heard he was cleared to play.
Denver had three and a half minutes to get a touchdown. A field goal wouldn’t be enough.
It was up to our defense now.
Despite how exhausted I believed they were, the Coopers’ defense ran onto the field with vigor. Flores from our secondary hung back as the defensive line bunched up to match Denver’s formation. The ball was snapped.
Denver’s quarterback took a step back. He danced from foot to foot. His arm went back. It was a long pass.
Shit.
This was too fast. We couldn’t let them score.
Flores came from the right field as if he were running the route. He zagged in front of the receiver and intercepted the ball. This time I didn’t try to hide my excitement. All we needed to do was work the clock, and the Coopers would be 2 and 0 in the regular season.
Our defense held.
After the game, Malik Johnson stopped to talk to me. “I told you to watch the defense, Ms. Maeve. We’re the stars.”
My smile was wide. “You are. Great game.”
Fin was only a few players behind Malik on his way to the locker room. “Good game, Fin,” I said.
