As he ran, Perry came up from behind, tackling an opposing player before he could get to Jake. Behind me, Erin screamed at the top of her lungs for her two boyfriends.
She almost put Josie to shame. Almost. The fans around us were probably regretting getting these seats.
My leg bounced nervously as the clock ticked down. Being in a competition myself wasn’t a big deal, but sittinghere watching Mateo… I wasn’t sure I was built for this kind of stress.
“Don’t worry, when they win we can go down and see him,” Evelyn said, leaning in so I could hear her.
“Is that allowed?”
Evelyn laughed and patted my knee. “It is. Even if it wasn’t, I’m pretty sure Mateo would hop the wall to see you.”
I smiled. “Sounds like something he’d do.”
“I’ve never seen Mateo this…content before. As a kid, he was always restless, constantly moving and participating in every sport under the sun. When he stuck with football, it helped ground him, but it wasn’t enough. Not until he met you.” Evelyn turned a little in her seat to look at me. Her hand landed on my knee as she gave me a soft, tender smile.
“You’ve made him stay in one place. And for that, I cannot thank you enough.”
My throat tightened, and I shook my head. “You don’t need to thank me. Your son is the first person who ever made me want to stop running.”
Evelyn’s fingers curled a little more firmly against my knee before she gave it a small squeeze. “I think he’d say the same about you,” she murmured, her smile deepening.
I didn’t trust myself to respond, fearing I’d just cry. I put my hand on top of hers and squeezed back, hoping she understood how much her words meant. We shared a watery smile.
Evelyn’s hand didn’t leave my knee right away. Her thumb brushed against me one more time, a motherly action I missed out on, before her attention turned back to the game.
I followed her gaze, my pulse quickening as Mateo took his position.
“Okay,” she murmured under her breath. “Let's go.”
The next four minutes were stressful. Every hit Mateoreceived, I flinched. Every fourth down missed, I prayed the other team didn’t score. The atmosphere in the stadium shifted from excitement to tension. Every single person knew this next minute was it. It was the last moment for the Titans to clinch the win.
The team was up two points. A field goal for the other team would tie it up, but the Titans had the ball. Mateo only needed to run the clock down. Easy peasy.
I found my dad through the crowd of players pacing the sideline, hand clenched around his clipboard. It was crazy to think at the start of the season my dad and I weren’t close. We couldn’t even talk without it being awkward. And now we had dinner every other week and talked and texted daily.
For the first time in a really long time, we were finally working our way back to being a family.
Whistles blowing jerked my attention away from my dad and back out to the field. A fight was starting to break out, the second one this game. I chuckled under my breath when Mateo reached out and yanked Perry backward by the back of his jersey. Realizing who it was, Perry relaxed and let Mateo tug him away from the thick of it. Like a kid being grabbed by his father.
Just like in the other fight, Mateo stayed on the outskirts, still holding Perry while staring at his play sheet on his forearm, completely unbothered.
A minute went by before the refs stopped the fight, letting the game continue. Whistles blared as the clock started again, making everyone get in position before time ran out.
My fingers dug into the back of my knees as I leaned forward. It felt like everyone around me was holding their breath, the stands going silent as we all waited to see what would happen.
I sucked in air as Mateo got behind his center. It was like time slowed as the ball was hiked into his waiting palms.Perry and Jake dispersed down the field, the offensive line clashing with the other team.
I waited for Mateo to throw the ball. Instead, he tucked the ball under his arm and took off.
“What is he doing?” I heard someone ask—maybe Bryton—but my eyes were glued to Mateo.
He scrambled around the offensive lines, twisting his body to avoid being tackled. Player after player tried to get him on the ground, but he either avoided it or another Titans player was there to help.
“RUN!” someone screamed, and it took a moment to realize it was me. I shot to my feet, along with everyone else, as Mateo neared the end zone, his long legs eating up the distance.
A defender came from behind out of nowhere. My lungs seized as he reached for Mateo’s jersey, fingers grazing the fabric as if he was going to yank him back. Just as the player’s hand clasped the back, Mateo dove.
Time fractured as Mateo and the other player fell forward, Mateo’s body hitting the ground with a hard thud.
