Chapter 17 #2
When Coach finishes his half-time pep talk, I take one more drink of water and pass the bottle off. The entire team circles up with arms locked around shoulders for Pony’s last words of encouragement. He reminds us of the jackpot waiting for the highest-scoring player.
My gaze drops to the circle of open grass between us, and something familiar catches my attention. So much so that I slip out of the huddle and pluck it from the ground while Pony is still talking.
A four-leaf clover.
Pony chortles. “Well, if that’s not a sign we’re going to win, I don’t know what is. Okay everyone, hands in and touch the clover.”
We break and head for our spots on the field for the second half. I pocket our good-luck charm and send one more wave to Renée and the girls.
On New York’s first kick to us, I catch it and take off like a bullet. Several players try to snag me, but I’m fast as fuck, boiii. Within seconds, I slide into the try zone just left of the uprights. The comforting smell of cut grass and spray paint greets me like a second home.
Five points for Philadelphia.
Cheers and butt slapping await me as all my teammates funnel into our end zone. Wheels kicks for an easy two-point conversion, and for the rest of the game we keep our lead.
With only a few minutes left in the game, most of us are bone-tired, but with try after try after try awarded to Philly, some of us are running on pure adrenaline.
New York only squeaks in a single try and a conversion, but the energy on this field seems almost unfairly matched.
We’re smoking them like a Kansas City barbecue.
Heck, we could walk off the field and let New York try to catch up with no opposition, and they still wouldn’t be able to rack up enough points in these few remaining minutes.
But I’ve only had five tries and one assist—and I made a promise I intend to keep.
In the last few seconds, at the five-meter and fifteen, the forwards scrum down, all of them looking desperate for an ice bath and painkillers. But I see the special tap Jimmy gives his strongside flanker to indicate he’s going to shoot for an 8-man pick.
Weird he’s going strongside. He’d have a better chance at scoring if he went weakside. Unless...
Jimmy shoots me a wink before he crouches down and shoves his head between the locks’ hips.
Once the scrum sets, Small Fry feeds the ball through the channel, hurries behind Jimmy, and acts like he’s going to grab the ball and throw it out to me in the backline.
Except he fakes, drawing the attention of New York’s backline away from the scrum.
I pretend to catch the ball and whip it down the line, all while Jimmy picks the ball from the back of the scrum and beelines for the endzone.
Our strongside flanker follows as support, essentially using Jimmy like a jousting stick to break through the defensive line.
But the play isn’t successful (or maybe this was always Jimmy’s plan) and he takes it to the ground.
His flanker doesn’t even set up a ruck. He just plucks the ball, and without looking, tosses it perfectly to me, before I zip through a narrow gap and over the try line.
My chest pounds as I lie there and listen to the screaming whistle of the sir awarding my try and announcing the end of the match.
Six tries.
One assist.
Not to mention the two tries Pony and Timmer scored and the points Wheels kicked for us.
The high I’m riding as we shake hands with the other team feels better than any drug I’ve ever taken.
I’m proud of what I could do for our team.
Proud I could keep my promise to my brother—to my captain.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dane and Rafael so pleased with me.
I’ve always chased approval from my older siblings, from Dad.
.. but this game today was some kind of switch.
Maybe they’re finally seeing something in me worthy of believing in.
But there’s someone else I’m dying to hear from.
Three someones, actually.
Dad and Angie try to grab my attention, but I hold a finger up and slip away from the hoard of bloodied and bruised, half-naked ruggers on the sideline.
“Jonah!” Delta squeals as I approach them.
“Hey Ladybug.” I’d love to hug her, but I’m not sure where Renée stands with that. She’s so protective of her daughters and their space, so I don’t want to assume anything.
Lo hands me a plastic container served with a smile as Delta explains. “We made you cookies again.”
“You did? Thank you! This is the best day ever.”
Lo takes the container back from me and opens it, as if I weren’t a split second away from doing it myself.
“I hope you’re not allergic to pecans,” Renée says sheepishly.
The aroma of sweet pumpkin and cinnamon floats to my nose, and I’m certain this is what Heaven smells like. “Oh my God, if I were allergic, I wouldn’t care. These are worth dying for.”
“The recipe was all Loretta,” Renée says, right as I pop an entire cookie in my mouth.
“It’s just like another pumpkin cookie we make,” Delta adds. “But Lo wanted to add nuts and a maple icing.”
I squat down so I’m eye level with the littlest Wilde and speak before I’m able to fully swallow. “This was your idea?”
Blush blooms bright red across her entire freckled face as she nods vigorously.
“You’re a master chef, Lo. These flavors are insane.” I point one finger at her nose. “You, ma’am, are talented.”
All at once Renée’s quiet little ginger snap leaps forward and wraps her arms around my neck.
I can’t breathe. Not because she’s blocking my airflow, but because I’m too stunned. She’s... she’s hugging me. Adorably shy Loretta, who likes to hide behind her big sister, is hugging me!
As I squeeze her in response, I look up to Renée. She’s just as surprised as I am, but nods that it’s okay.
I once heard that the people who work as characters at Disney are never supposed to be the first to break a hug from a child. The cast member must remain there until the child is ready to let go. Lowkey, I sort of cried when I heard that.
If she keeps hugging me like this, I’m gonna lose it right here in front of my team.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to touch him,” Delta says, and Lo releases me before looking up at her mom.
I stand and take another cookie. “Yeah, I distinctly remember you setting that rule.”
The breath Renée inhales is long, like she’s reluctant to respond. “I guess you’re growing on us.”
A charming reply dances on the tip of my tongue, but Delta delivers her interruption like a seasoned heckler. “Yeah, like a fungus!”
The jab is so out of left field it has all four of us giggling. Ecological humor—yep, she’s Renée’s child.
When I collect myself and swallow the second cookie I nearly choked on, I remember the four-leaf clover in my pocket and gently remove it. It’s wilted from the game, but all four leaves are intact. I hold it out to the girls. “Look what I found.”
“Those are lucky!” Delta gasps and snatches it.
“That’s how we won the game. Found it right there on the field.”
Renée rubs the tops of their heads. “Girls, why don’t you go look for some while I talk to Jonah for a little bit.”
They’re on the hunt in a matter of seconds without so much as a wave.
For a long, comfortable moment, we stand there watching the pair crawl along the twenty-two-meter line, on their hands and knees like they’re mining for gold.
“You played well today,” she says gently, and shrugs. “Obviously I know nothing about rugby, but you...” she trails off, playing with her fingernails. “You certainly looked like you knew what you were doing.”
Is she... blushing? Oh God, I can’t hear anything over my heartbeat. Did she really say I played well? I thought nothing would top the approval of my family and team, but hearing Renée compliment me feels like I’ve hit an entirely different, entirely better jackpot.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” I ask. “Even though you didn’t know the rules?”
“I did.”
“Cool,” I say in a way that’s entirely not. And for good measure, I repeat it several times because I can’t think of a better reply.
“It was an exciting game.”
“Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow?” I ask too fast. “My whole family will be there.”
“Oh... um, I don’t know about that.”
“Yeah, you’re right. That was dumb. Sorry. But if you change your mind, my door is always open.”
“Okay.” The soft smile she flashes helps to tamp down my embarrassment. “Will you have any more games?”
“Yeah! We have a few more home games this season and several away.”
“Would it be alright if we came to another?”
“Absolutely,” I beam. “I’d love it if you did. I can send you my schedule.”
“See that you do.”
“JoJo,” Coach Batsakis yells over a crowd of ruggers. “Get over here. We need you.”
“I’m sorry. I gotta go.” And I really am. I don’t want to leave this moment we’re in together, where it feels like your middle school crush finally knows who you are and it’s both electrifying and embarrassing and you want to tell the entire world what happened, but also tell no one.
Her soft smile grows wide, and it might be the biggest I’ve seen from her. “It’s okay. I’ve probably taken up too much of your time anyway.”
She steps away, but her eyes don’t leave mine.
Without thinking, I step closer and reach for her but stop when I realize what I’m doing—or trying to do.
Renée clocks my hand stuck between us midair.
I retract it, and she looks away, both of us pretending like I didn’t just try to pull her into a kiss.
To keep my hands from roaming like a hound dog on a scent trail, I clutch both around the plastic cookie container and clear my throat. “You could never take too much of my time.”
I wish I could read her mind in the moment that follows because I can’t gauge her expression. Is she holding something back, or showing all her cards?
This time, she commits to walking away toward her daughters still scouring the field for luck. “Good game today, Jonah. I’ll see you later.”
For the rest of the day, through the social and grocery shopping for family dinner tomorrow, I replay her words like they’re the only ones I’ll ever need.
“You played well today. You certainly looked like you knew what you were doing.”