Page 68 of Love, Literature, and the Linebacker

It’s here.

I’ve imagined this moment a thousand times. Big games, scouts in the stands, the quiet calculation of whether I’m doing enough. I always thought it would feel sharp and singular.

Instead, it feels layered.

There’s football—raw and physical and familiar.

There’s the future—abstract, looming, demanding.

And then there’s Lucy—constant and real and suddenly woven through everything.

I don’t feel distracted.

I feel rooted.

Like for the first time, there’s something waiting for me after the whistle that matters just as much as what happens before it.

I jog back into position, muscles coiled tight, but even as I settle into my stance, Lucy’s presence lingers in my mind. She believes in me, even while we’re still learning what my dream might mean for us.

Tonight, I want this win more than anything.

The whistle blows, and I steal another glance into the stands. That’s when I see her. Lucy’s wearing the green sweatshirt I gave her. The one with my number stretched across the back. My heart stumbles when our eyes meet, her smile lighting up like she’s been waiting for me to find her.

I lift my arm and give her a quick wave.

She waves back, then points to the man beside her. Mr. Bennett, decked out in green himself, clapping like he’s been a fan his whole life. Seeing her father beside her affects me almost as much as seeing Lucy.

“Sharpe, eyes up!” Coach snaps again.

I turn just as the offense lines up. The ball is snapped. The quarterback fakes the handoff, then sends the ball to the running back cutting outside.

I’m already moving.

My cleats dig into the turf as I close the gap. The runner tries to turn the corner, but I lower my shoulder and drive through the tackle. The impact rattles through me as we hit the ground, Marcus arriving a second later to make sure he stays there.

The crowd erupts.

I glance back toward the stands instinctively. Lucy’s still there, clapping, smiling like I just did something extraordinary.

In that moment, everything clicks into place.

The rest of the fourth quarter passes in a blur of short drives, substitutions, and a defense determined not to surrender another point.

When the final whistle blows, the stadium erupts. Still undefeated this late in the season. A first for Willow Creek. The celebration surges around me, but beneath it all, a tight thread of nerves hums in my chest.

Ray Upton saw that. He had to have.

Darnell jogs over, clapping me on the back. Coach gives me a nod—approval clear—but I’m not ready to relax yet.

“You and Lucy coming to the parking lot after-party?” Darnell asks as he falls into step beside me.

I shrug. “We’ll see.”

His smile fades. He grips my shoulders, voice dropping. “You can’t keep skipping team stuff just because Lucy doesn’t want to go.”

Irritation cuts through the postgame high. “That’s not what’s happening, and you know it.”

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guys are talking. They think you’ve been disappearing because Lucy doesn’t want to be around us.”