Page 113 of Kickoff

Silence fell upon the stadium.

All eyes were on the ball slicing through the air in a perfect spiral.

My heart lodged in my throat. I had given the game my all today, and the fate of our victory resided in this one pass.

Time slowed.

I watched the space all around me. The coaches were waiting with bated breath, following the trajectory of the ball spinning above our heads.

The entire crowd stood, most of the people wearing our colors with their hands folded in prayer.

Sweat pearled on my forehead, a drop rolling down my eye.

I found my girl with my number displayed on her chest, and our gazes collided. She nodded at me, and it filled me with a new surge of confidence.

I turned my head to watch Craig, running with his arms stretched over his head, never losing speed, his gaze trained on the ball while he avoided the guys after him with twists of his body and jumps.

Time resumed its speed.

My brother was the fastest guy I knew. He was a force to be reckoned with on the field. One hell of a badass football player.

All his movements screamed confidence and precision.

The ball rotated in a perfect curve, its brown shade a contrast to the early December ice-blue sky, landing between his hands, milli-seconds before he crossed the end zone.

Touchdown.

The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer. Helmets were thrown in the air.

Two players emptied the sports drink cooler over our head coach’s head.

A wave of navy-blue surrounded us, our supporters screaming and clapping.

Running as fast as I could, I reached Craig as he was being shoved around in celebration by our teammates.

Unable to tame the grin forming on my face, I lifted him in my own arms and spun him around. “Man, I knew you were the greatest, but I’m still impressed you caught that pass.” He was, without a doubt, the best wide receiver in Michigan and had just proved it once again. Big time. Yeah, raw talent ran in our bloodstream.

“When you throw a perfect ball, Mase, I can’t help but catch it. Just doing my job.” My brother, always the humblest guy on the team.

“Man, it’s more than that. You’re a goddamn king on the field, man. I’m proud of you.” I lowered him to his feet as Paige ran toward us and jumped into his arms, locking her legs around his middle, kissing him like he had just won the Big Game. They exchanged sappy love words, and I blocked them out. Nah, I didn’t need their lovesickness after we won the game against Castle High. Up until the last second, our victory wasn’t a given. We were losing by two points. Chase and I bumped chests, and Sheldon gave me a noogie. Laughing, I dropped my helmet on the grass and wiped my sweaty forehead with my sleeve.

“We fucking did it, guys. We did it.”

Nothing in this instant could steal my happiness away. I was surfing the greatest high.

My parents walked up to me, my mom hugging me. “My babies did great today.” She stepped back and wiped her eyes with a tissue.

“Mom, are you crying?”

“No. It’s the cold air. It makes my eyes watery.”

I smiled. “Okay. Not crying. Noted.”

“It’s just… My babies are growing too fast. This was your last high school game. I’m not ready for Craig and you to be freshmen in college next year and live elsewhere.”

I stepped forward and hugged her a little longer than I normally did. “It will be okay. We’re not leaving yet.”

She bobbed her head. “You’re right.”