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“Could they write a Tribune article?” Jonah asks, leaning towards me as his interest piques.
“Nah, Bryer shut down all operations before they even found out it was over. It’s so fucked.”
The room falls silent, each of us leaning back into our chairs as we attempt to come up with a new idea.
“What if,” Jonah starts, his tone hopeful, “instead of just the jersey chasers, we pass out flyers to every single fan as they enter Mason Field? We could get all the guys to help.”
“You think Coach would allow that?” Danny asks with uncertainty.
“No,” I mutter, matching my gaze with each of theirs. “But that’s why we won’t tell him.”
“I can definitely get Dr. Randie to print out flyers, no problem,” Eleanor says, a gleaming smile across her face as the guys and I explain our plan.
“We’d need a few thousand,” I remind her tentatively, bracing myself for the inevitable realization that it’s impossible.
“We’d print thousands of Tribune copies every week,” Eleanor insists. “It’s no biggie. I can do multiple flyers to a single page… would 10,000 work?”
“Hell yes!” Jonah shouts, his cheeks blushing immediately out of embarrassment from his outburst.
As the planning goes on, Danny and Jonah are increasingly more excited – not only for the event itself, but for the opportunity to stick it to Coach after all these years of punishment drills.
“Isn’t this the last game before the Championships?” Georgia asks as she fiddles with the hem of her oversized Texas University t-shirt.
God, she looks so beautiful.
“Yes ma’am,” I reply, shooting her a quick wink from across the room.
“I can’t believe how fast the semester has gone by. We’re getting old,” Eleanor comments, her face cinching in disgust at the realization.
“Maybe you are,” Danny says, “I’m in my prime.”
Eleanor balls up a paper filled with crossed out phone numbers and hurls it, knocking him square in the forehead. Danny laughs heartily and, in that moment, I swear I can see a soft glint in his eye from across the room.
Now what the hell is that about?
44 | Georgia
“OKAY, WE’VE GOT all the flyers in the bucket, right?” I ask Eleanor, sweat dripping from my forehead from anxiety.
“Yes, and I’ve got them divided up for each of the players. Georgia, we’ve got everything ready. You don’t need to panic!”
“But what if everyone takes a flyer and no one shows up to the actual event?”
Eleanor looks at me warily, eyebrows raised as if to say “Georgia, are you freaking serious?”
“That’s not gonna happen, Georgie,” she reassures as she gently moves my hair back from my shoulder. “It’ll all work out. Just watch.”
I smile at her, glancing towards the clock beside us, and immediately spring into a panic.
“Not if we’re late! The game starts in an hour!”
“Oh, fuck–”
We pull up to Mason Field twenty minutes later, scrambling to remove the boxes of flyers from Eleanor’s trunk as quickly as possible.
“Where have y’all been?” Danny calls, his breaths ragged as he jogs up to our parking spot.
“We lost track of time,” I explain, grabbing a box and pushing it into his open arms, “Where are Jonah and Henry?”
