Chapter 54 He’s My Biggest Fan
-Annie-
Spring
***
When school began again in January, we both started the lead into our spring sports.
Drew practices with the team and then he drives three times a week to do speed drills with a specialized coach.
Drew’s coach has told him that he needs to show his speed on the field to gain the attention of the scouts.
Both sides of the ball will be important if he wants to get drafted in June.
Drew has also been gone a lot on college recruiting trips for his backup plan if the draft is a bust. I’ve had my fair share of college visits, too.
We’d even had one in Norman together; it was nice to walk along the paths around campus together thinking about the possibilities.
A huge part of my brain wants him to get drafted—after all, it is the dream he is chasing, the dream that he is working so hard for.
A small piece of me hopes the draft won’t work out, and he and I will both end up for the next four years in Norman.
I always feel guilty when these thoughts happen, because I want the best for Drew, and I want him to get his dream.
***
Outside of our crazy schedules, we’ve filled in our free time with each other.
If we aren’t snuggled up in his room, we are snuggled up in mine.
Our make-out sessions feel less frenzied but just as passionate: since saying I love you, we both feel no need to rush our moments together.
That loving each other is a long-term feeling, and we aren’t going anywhere.
Drew even started doing his homework over at my house.
We take over the kitchen table with our work spread between us.
Sometimes we work on subjects for the same class and help each other complete the required assignments.
It does go faster having someone to talk through complex math equations; they aren’t my favorite anyway.
Mom has even started to default to making him a plate at dinner because, more times than not, he is here and hungry, so it makes sense to include him in our family dinners.
***
As Drew has spent more time with my parents, I’ve spent more time with his in return.
Mrs. Davis is a nice person, and her art is amazing.
I’ve gotten lost listening to her tell me about the whats, whys, and feelings behind her work.
It’s amazing what she can do with a little paint and a blank canvas.
In February, I asked her if she’s ever painted something for the boys.
She told me she’d painted their favorite comic book characters a few years back, but neither of them had asked for more.
I asked her if she’d mind painting something for me to give to Drew as a present on the opening day of his senior season.
I didn’t want to inconvenience her, but an idea had popped into my head, and I thought it would be something special for Drew.
She smiled so big and started peppering me with questions.
I gave her a few examples of what I’ve been thinking could be something special for him.
She told me it wouldn’t be any trouble, and she loved the ideas I’d shared.
The whole month of February, I’ve been sneaking to his mom's studio. She’s given me a little peek at the painting.
At the end of February, I got a text from Mrs. Davis telling me to come over while Drew was at his private lessons.
As soon as I arrived, she looped her arm in mine and led us straight to the studio.
The painting is front and center. “I have a few minor touch-ups, but I’d say it is finished and ready for game day,” she tells me, beaming.
There in paint is the picture of Drew and me from the party, but she’s replaced the background of my room with the school baseball field, and my jersey no longer sports my favorite Griffons numbers.
We agreed to have her paint me in a Rams number 17 jersey instead.
“He is going to love it,” she piped in when I was quiet for too long.
I turned, gave her a big hug, and thanked her.
Waiting until the opening day is going to kill me.
***
After all these months together and all the moments we’ve shared, I know that I want my first time to be with Drew, and I want it to happen soon.
But I’m not about to have my first time with one of our parents in the house.
I don’t care how easygoing Mr. and Mrs. Davis are.
I know I’m not going to attempt that at my house, either.
I keep expecting Drew to bring it up, but he hasn’t, and that is frustrating me, too.
I finally caved last week and talked to Meg about it.
Meg being Meg told me that I should just bring it up.
Drew is probably waiting for me to tell him I want to because, after all, I’m the only virgin in our relationship, and he is a nice guy.
I am sure she’s right: he’s never pressured me on any other sexual stuff.
If anything, he normally lets me determine the next step or action.
So, with this realization in my head, I tell myself that if it hasn’t happened by prom, I’ll have to come up with a plan, and because my best friend is such a great planner, I make sure she’s looped in to help.
***
Tonight, we kick off our first home soccer game and my last first game after all of these years of playing.
I’ve known for years that I’m not good enough to make soccer a career.
I’ve loved playing and enjoy being competitive on the field—I already know I’m going to miss the heck out of it when this season ends.
Drew is wearing his Rams Girls Soccer shirt with my number on it all day at school.
He tells me that he has to make sure it’s well known that number 28 is taken, and he has the shirt to prove it.
The guys are giving him a hard time when I show up at lunch, calling him whipped and in puppy love.
Drew takes all our friends’ jabs in stride and proudly replies, “Yes, I declare that I’m totally whipped, head over heels for number 28!
” For good measure, he grabs my face and pulls me into a kiss.
This draws plenty of yuck and so gross from Craig, Luke, and Travis.
Meg calls out, “Give us more,” playing up Drew’s actions.
When we finally break the kiss I say against his lips, “I love you, Dimples,” and he replies, “Love you too, Angel.”
***
Mom and Dad drive me to my game, because as much as it’s my last first game, it’s theirs, too.
Mom is trying not to cry, I can tell, but she’s keeping it together.
When we go to separate at the field, Dad gives me a big hug.
“Go kick some butt,” he says and releases me to head in with Mom.
I’m not sure why, but I have to fight the tears now, too.
Our opponents are the Cardinals, and we more than outplay them most of the match.
I’ve got two goals and I’m hoping for the hat trick.
I see my opportunity and take it when my teammate gets a break on the ball.
I can see both defenders getting pulled to her and the ball.
I sprint forward, she waits until the last second to pass me the ball, and it's an amazing pass.
Now it's just me and the goalie. I do a fake shift of my hips to make her think I’m going to go low but then aim high, and my foot makes contact with the ball just right.
I watch it sail into the right top corner over the goalie’s head.
“Goal Rams” is announced over the sound system, and my teammates all come together for a group hug to celebrate my hat trick.
I look over in the stands and find my parents cheering and screaming in excitement, and then I find my friends.
They are all decked out: Meg has a 28 painted on her face, but the guys have all come shirtless and have 28 painted across their chests.
They are crazy, but they are mine, and I wouldn’t change them for the world.
I point at my favorite chest wearing 28 and make a little heart with my hands.
Then he makes one back at me, and I turn my attention back to the game.