I burst out laughing at her deadpan delivery. Man, this girl is hilarious. The kind of funny that only happens when someone is wickedly smart.
I look at the medal in my hand. “Why do I feel like I’m the Scarecrow and this medal is the Wizard’s way of giving me a brain?”
She laughs. “Not at all. I saw it and instantly thought of you. Didn’t you say your position on the field has the word ‘rush’ in it?”
I look at the medal again and realize what she’s referring to.Rushmore Engineering.That’s what’s stamped across the front of the medal.
“They were the event sponsor today,” Chelsea explains. “But let’s pretend it says ‘MVP.’”
I slip the medal’s ribbon over my head and the smile Chelsea beams at me when it’s in place is nothing short of breathtaking. I know she got this thing for me as a joke—because I said I’d be there with her in spirit today and the word “rush” is stamped on it—but I feel like that word applies to this situation for another reason: because being in the presence of this amazing girl makes me feel a rush like nothing I’ve felt before.
“Is that bag yours?” she asks, pointing to the white plastic bag sitting on the coffee table.
“Yeah. Oh, fuck! The ice cream!” I reach inside the bag and squeeze one of the room-temperature pints, and it’s immediately clear its contents have liquified. “The patient’s flatlined, doctor,” I report. I look at my watch. “Time of death: eight twenty-two.”
“I’m so sorry,” Chelsea says. “This is all my fault for being late.”
“No, it was stupid of me to get ice cream when I knew my plan was to come down here early. I was just excited to show you a really good time, even if we only stayed in the lobby.”
“Forget I ever said that. Let’s go out and get some ice cream, Luca.”
I perk up. “Seriously? The ice cream place is only a few blocks from here, so it won’t take long.”
“We don’t have to hurry. Let’s just relax and have a good time.”
Holy shit.I didn’t see this coming. What changed? Could it be she’s feeling what I’m feeling? I rise excitedly as Chelsea does the same, and then I quickly start taking off my jacket to give to her.
“No, no,” Chelsea says when she realizes my intention. “I’ll just run upstairs real quick and—”
“I never get cold,” I assure her. “Plus, our time is limited, and I don’t want to miss out on a single minute with you.” Seriously now. What the hell am I doing? I’m never a dork like this with girls.
Chelsea blushes a deep shade of crimson as she takes the jacket I’m holding out. “Only if you’re sure you won’t need it.”
“I’m positive. I’m hot-blooded, baby.”
Luckily, she giggles at my comment rather than looking put off. And as I help her get the coat on, I suddenly feel like a prince in a fairy tale.
“Ready?” I ask, when she’s all bundled up.
“Ready.”
“Awesome.”
I open the lobby door for her, and off I go into the cold Indiana night with a gold medal around my neck and my heart pounding in my ears for the most exciting date of my entire life.
Northwestern is only like an hour from Chelsea’s school, right?
That’s what I’m thinking as I walk down the sidewalk with her toward our hotel, hand in hand, through the cold night air. Why? Because our ice cream date went so well, I’m now idiotically trying to come up with a way to see this spectacular girl again. Unfortunately, due to my crazy football schedule and the distance between our two schools, the best idea I’ve come up with is inviting Chelsea to come to my game against Northwestern in a few weeks so we can hang out afterward at my hotel, the same way we’re doing here.
“So, Chelsea,” I begin. But before I get another word out, a couple of my teammates sprint through the front doors of our hotel about twenty yards ahead of us, as fast as their legs can carry them.
“Oh, shit,” I mutter. I look down at my watch and realize how badly I’ve lost track of time. “There’s only three minutes till curfew.”
Chelsea gasps. “Let’s run.”
Still holding hands, we sprint the rest of the distance and bolt into the lobby right after several teammates who came from the opposite direction.
“Maguire, come on!” one of my teammates yells from the packed elevator. “I’m holding the doors!”
