Chapter 61
Archer
Three minutes left, and our defense is on the field, fighting for every inch. I stand on the sideline, helmet off, holding the play sheet, but I can’t read a word. All I can do is watch the clock.
Fourth and ten. This is the down. If they get it, they probably score. If they don’t, we win. Coach is yelling. I can’t breathe. The noise of the crowd threatening to swallow me whole.
Then the Squalls’ snap. I watch the insanity that ensues. Their quarterback spins, desperate. He throws across his body, a dangerous Hail Mary pass into the middle of the field.
And then I see it: the flash of an orange jersey diving, desperate.
INTERCEPTION.
The stadium explodes. The noise hits me like a tsunami. Our safety catches the ball and immediately takes a knee, spiking the ball softly just past the fifty-yard line.
The referee whistles the play dead. 0:43 on the clock. The turnover is complete. The ball is ours.
We won.
My hands fly to my hair. Shock and relief flooding my system.
Coach screams in triumph, his icy facade replaced by fiery passion.
I see Cam sprinting off the field, ripping his helmet off and screaming into the sky.
Ty charges toward me, engulfing me in a crushing bear hug. I clutch my best friend, afraid if I let go this whole thing will be a wild dream.
“We fucking did it! We did the damn thing!”
I feel fat wet tears escape my eyes. I don’t bother wiping them, they blend in with the sweat anyway.
Confetti rains down around us.
The cheers of our fans reverberate across the stadium.
Ty and I are dogpiled by the rest of the team. Backs, helmets and asses are slapped in euphoric joy.
Once I’m finally free, I spot them. My family and Elle. They’re in the designated family area.
I take off.
I crash into Elle, arms around her waist, hoisting her into the air and spinning her. My lips colliding with hers. I pour everything into this kiss, the joy, the exhaustion, the pure sweet gratitude. Her arms are around my neck pulling me close. For a moment it’s just us.
Our moment is fleeting and short lived before I’m ushered to the main stage, cameras shoved into my face.
The sweet reporter who wanted to murder Kirk Williams at Opening Night on my behalf asks, “Looking out at this stadium, surrounded by all this confetti and your teammates, after all the work, all the sacrifices—what does this moment feel like?”
“It feels surreal, like I’m going to wake up in my childhood bedroom, and it all just be a vivid dream.” I answer.
I’m pushed to the center stage where I’m named MVP, I give a short speech where I scramble to ensure I give everyone the credit they deserve. “I’m beyond grateful for my teammates, coaches and support system that got us here today!” My voice cracking with emotion at the end of my speech.
The Lombardi Trophy is presented to the team,
Coach gives me the honor of lifting high into the air for everyone to see. The dull droning of the crowd surges back to life the minute the trophy is in the air.
I pass the trophy off to DJ, our defensive captain, ensuring that everyone gets their moment to shine.
The locker room is a rowdy champagne-soaked event, where Coach delivers his most emotional speech yet. Seriously, someone give this man an award for his speeches.
Elle and my parents are allowed in the locker room for a quick photo op with the trophy.
They’re ushered out and we are separated for what is hopefully the final time of the night.
I shower quickly; towel wrapped around me as I open my locker to see the suit Jason styled for me.
Midnight Navy, with subtle charcoal that only catches the light when I move.
Jason out did himself with this look. I slide into the black turtleneck and pull the jacket over my shoulders.
I sit down and put on my socks. Jason must have had these custom made; they have little wolves sporting crowns on their little fuzzy heads.
The small gold pin on the lapel, my number, is the only flash. My watch, my Christmas gift from Ellie, clasped on my wrist. I smile at myself. I’m gonna knock Ellie’s socks off. I look good.
The locker room mayhem bleeds into the after party. When the venue’s elevator doors finally open, the bass hits me, and then I see her.
Elle is standing near the entrance, holding a glass of champagne, talking to Mack, but she’s watching the door. I can tell by her how she tilts her head every few seconds.
She’s wearing a sleek black velvet jumpsuit, the only color is her heels, Wolves orange.
Her hair is up, her jewelry are her traditional staples, her charm bracelets, her diamond studs and gold hoops, tying the look together is the necklace with my number I had gifted her before I left for California.
I walk toward her, and the noise of the room swirling around me. When she finally sees me her face lights up.
Handing her glass to Mack, who generously takes it, meets me halfway with a gentle, two-handed grip on my jacket lapels.
“You clean up nice,” she jokes, her voice low against the bass line.
“Well, it’s a special occasion.” I quip back. Planting a celebratory kiss on her soft lips.
I hold her hand up giving her a spin before leading her into the chaos of the victory party.
We’re at the bar enjoying a hard-earned drink when Elle’s smile transforms into an amused grin.
“Now, that’s an outfit worthy of Ty.” She muses.
I turn around to see my best friend in what I can only describe as high fashion. Ty has always been flashier than me, but this new look is a whole other level.
My best friend doesn’t walk into the venue, he floats, the crowd parting around him like smoke.
He’s ditched the suit and opted to wear a charcoal gray leather aviator jacket with the most ridiculous orange shearling collar I have ever seen.
It looks like something an action villain would wear to ski in.
It’s loud, expensive, and utterly Ty. His crisp white shirt underneath though is the true canvas, setting a clean backdrop to a giant Wolves pendant.
The pendant is gaudy in the most loving way.
It’s encrusted with diamonds and surrounded by three thick chains.
Sadie glides next to him in an outfit that compliments Ty’s swagger. I peek over at Elle who looks like she’s about to cry seeing her best friend.
“She looks stunning.” Elle breathes. While Elle opted for the black velvet jumpsuit, Sadie stuns the crowd next to Ty in a shimmering gun-metal gray dress. I have to admit she looks phenomenal. Her dress perfectly complements Ty’s without competing with it.
We’re all seated on a plush bench. Elle and Sadie have wrangled Steph, who stunned the crowd by replacing her typical slacks for a little black dress, into taking pictures with them.
DJ and Mack saunter over, DJ’s massive arm wrapped around Mack’s slenderer frame. “I see I didn’t need to guard Elle’s previous glass all night.” Mack jokes sliding into the seat next to Cam. DJ, ever practical, is in a well-tailored suit that compliments Mack’s stylish three piece.
Ty waves a bartender over. “It’s toast time!” He signals the girls over.
Ty delivers a toast befitting of our victory tonight.
“To our D: who held the line! Deej, Cam, you are the reason we won many games this season!” DJ, Mack, Cam and Steph all clink glasses.
“And to you:” Ty says, facing me, his eyes locked on mine.
“To Archer, our leader, the man who carried all the weight and still stood tall.”
Elle clinks her glass with mine, her eyes full of love.
He holds his glass up again. “To the wolf pack!”
“To the wolf pack!” We all bellow.
After our toasts, Ty slides up to me. “One last toast, just you and me.” He says, handing me a shot.
“To my best friend, the man who conquered his ghosts and came out stronger than ever.” He holds my gaze.
“I’m so proud of you man.” He clinks his shot glass with mine and we tip back the amber liquid.
It’s smooth going down and warms my insides.
“I couldn’t have done it without you.” I say clapping him on the shoulder. Ty swallows back his emotions. Refusing to break the mood.
“Now! Enough of this mushy shit!” He yells. “Let’s party!”
The victory party is in full swing. The noise is deafening, but the initial frenzy of high-fives and congratulations has subsided into the steady rhythm of the dance floor.
I am standing with Elle near the edge of the crowd, the blurry lights of the party washing over her. I feel the buzz from the alcohol. It’s a light, pleasurable hum that dampens the ache of one too many hits.
I pull Elle away from the main throng of people, maneuvering us into a small pocket of space between a pillar and a massive speaker. The music shifts to a slower, heavy R we sway, until the beat picks up, drawing Elle and I back into the crowd. Her body is flushed against mine as the pulsing music directs our bodies in sync with the rhythm.
The room is louder now, and hotter. Or maybe I am just hot. The alcohol has stopped feeling fizzy and is now a dull, warm weight in my stomach. We dance until Elle complains her feet hurt.
We return to the bench where our friends are seated. Elle orders us another round. I lean against the back of the bench, my arm draped around Elle, watching the crowd as I nurse my drink.
The air is thick with perfume, sweat, and the expensive bourbon they keep pouring.
The mixture of smells makes my head swim.
Faces look soft, the edges blurred. When I try to focus on a single person, their features shift slightly, making me blink.
I look down and see that my drink is once again empty.
Ty is dancing with Sadie, never straying too far from one another.
The orange collar of Ty’s jacket looks like a huge, neon halo reflecting the strobe lights while Sadie’s dress sends fractures of light around her.
They dance in rhythm to the music, their bodies instinctively knowing how the other is going to move. It’s hypnotizing.
I tear my gaze away from my best friend and his girlfriend when DJ’s laugh hits me.
He is talking to Mack, his hand resting casually on Mack’s sapphire-suited shoulder.
Mack is making a point, his expression animated and joyful, but I can’t make out what he’s saying.
He’s talking too fast and the music is too loud.
I know the conversation is about something important, maybe the parade route, maybe the off-season, maybe the wedding, oh I really hope it’s the wedding!
I look down at Ellie. She’s sipping what looks like water. She’s so smart. I love her so much! I try to articulate a full sentence, but it comes out as a lazy hum.
“You need water, Babe.” Elle’s voice is slightly slurred, but her eyes are bright.
I feel her get up, I’m lamenting the warmth of her body, when I feel the cool water glass being placed in my hand. “Drink up Captain.” She muses.
The rest of night is a blur of colors and heavy bass.