Chapter Sixteen
Dylan
A week after the scout dinner, Lucy is finally here. Somewhere in the stands, tucked into the blur of faces and team colors, she’s watching me—cheering for me. Knowing she came makes everything feel more important.
Between snaps, my gaze keeps drifting upward, searching for a flash of red curls or the green sweatshirt I gave her. I want to see her. I need to see her.
“Eyes on the field, Sharpe!” Coach barks from the sidelines. “Lock it in!”
I grit my teeth and refocus. We’re demolishing the Blackbucks, no question about it. The score isn’t even close. And for once, Greg’s actually playing within the system. No rogue audibles. No reckless hero plays. He’s disciplined. Controlled.
It’s unsettling.
I can’t help but wonder if Coach tipped him off that a scout is in the stands tonight, watching every snap, every decision. Watching me.
I roll my shoulders and listen for the defensive call.
This game feels different. Bigger. Heavier.
Maybe it’s Ray Upton somewhere up there with his clipboard.
Maybe it’s Lucy. Maybe it’s the way the future suddenly feels close enough to touch.
It’s no longer hypothetical, no longer something I tell myself I’ll get to someday.
It’s here.
I’ve imagined this moment a thousand times. Big games, scouts in the stands, the quiet calculation of whether I’m doing enough. I always thought it would feel sharp and singular.
Instead, it feels layered.
There’s football—raw and physical and familiar.
There’s the future—abstract, looming, demanding.
And then there’s Lucy—constant and real and suddenly woven through everything.
I don’t feel distracted.
I feel rooted.
Like for the first time, there’s something waiting for me after the whistle that matters just as much as what happens before it.
I jog back into position, muscles coiled tight, but even as I settle into my stance, Lucy’s presence lingers in my mind. She believes in me, even while we’re still learning what my dream might mean for us.
Tonight, I want this win more than anything.
The whistle blows, and I steal another glance into the stands. That’s when I see her. Lucy’s wearing the green sweatshirt I gave her. The one with my number stretched across the back. My heart stumbles when our eyes meet, her smile lighting up like she’s been waiting for me to find her.
I lift my arm and give her a quick wave.
She waves back, then points to the man beside her. Mr. Bennett, decked out in green himself, clapping like he’s been a fan his whole life. Seeing her father beside her affects me almost as much as seeing Lucy.
“Sharpe, eyes up!” Coach snaps again.
I turn just as the offense lines up. The ball is snapped. The quarterback fakes the handoff, then sends the ball to the running back cutting outside.
I’m already moving.
My cleats dig into the turf as I close the gap. The runner tries to turn the corner, but I lower my shoulder and drive through the tackle. The impact rattles through me as we hit the ground, Marcus arriving a second later to make sure he stays there.
The crowd erupts.
I glance back toward the stands instinctively. Lucy’s still there, clapping, smiling like I just did something extraordinary.
In that moment, everything clicks into place.
The rest of the fourth quarter passes in a blur of short drives, substitutions, and a defense determined not to surrender another point.
When the final whistle blows, the stadium erupts. Still undefeated this late in the season. A first for Willow Creek. The celebration surges around me, but beneath it all, a tight thread of nerves hums in my chest.
Ray Upton saw that. He had to have.
Darnell jogs over, clapping me on the back. Coach gives me a nod—approval clear—but I’m not ready to relax yet.
“You and Lucy coming to the parking lot after-party?” Darnell asks as he falls into step beside me.
I shrug. “We’ll see.”
His smile fades. He grips my shoulders, voice dropping. “You can’t keep skipping team stuff just because Lucy doesn’t want to go.”
Irritation cuts through the postgame high. “That’s not what’s happening, and you know it.”
He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guys are talking. They think you’ve been disappearing because Lucy doesn’t want to be around us.”
I point toward the stands. “She’s right there.”
Darnell follows my hand, surprise crossing his face. “I didn’t know.”
“Because no one asked.”
“I’m asking now.” He lowers his voice. “Are you good?”
“I’m better than good. I just don’t need every night to end in a parking lot anymore.”
“I’m just trying to look out for you,” he says, softer now.
I don’t answer right away.
Because the truth is, it’s none of their business.
I’ve spent years equating focus with distance.
No parties.
No distractions.
No attachments that could pull me off course.
That mindset got me here. I won’t pretend otherwise.
But Lucy didn’t barge into my life demanding space. She didn’t compete with football. She fit alongside it, quietly challenging the idea that success has to be lonely.
I’m beginning to understand that focus and connection don’t have to cancel each other out.
And for the first time, I wonder if maybe the thing I was so afraid of—letting someone in—isn’t the weakness I’ve convinced myself it is.
I rake a hand through my hair, the weight of Darnell’s words more unnerving than I want to admit.
“Have you ever considered that after three years of locker rooms, parking lots, and postgame chaos, I might actually want to spend time alone with my girlfriend?”
Darnell exhales, lifting his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Fair point. I’ll talk to the guys—”
“No.” I shake my head, already done with the conversation. “Don’t. I’ll handle it.”
I turn and head for the locker room, irritation simmering just beneath my skin. All I want is a shower, some quiet, and Lucy. That’s it. That’s the priority.
Naturally, Greg chooses that exact moment to insert himself.
“Where’s the fire, Sharpe?” he calls, falling into step beside me and trying to sling an arm over my shoulders like we’re friends.
I duck out of his reach without breaking stride. “Plans.”
He snorts, flashing that smug grin I’ve wanted to wipe off his face more than once. “Man, I’d be in a hurry too if I had Library Girl waiting. Bet she’s all shy in public but—”
My hands clench into fists before I even realize it. I stop short and turn just enough to meet his gaze, my voice low and steady.
“Watch your mouth.”
Greg blinks, surprised, then laughs as though I’ve joined the joke. “Relax. Just joking.”
“Good game, Greg,” I say flatly, cutting him off before he can dig the hole any deeper.
I start jogging away.
“That’s it?” he shouts after me. “That’s all you’ve got?”
I don’t look back.
Because giving him another second of my attention isn’t worth it. Because nothing he says matters. Because Lucy is waiting, and I refuse to let anyone turn her into locker-room fodder or a punchline.
Right now, she’s the person I want to see.
***
Fans stream past us toward the parking lots, carrying blankets, foam fingers, and half-finished cups of cocoa.
The marching band is still playing somewhere beneath the stands, the drums echoing through the concrete corridors.
Lucy remains close enough that our shoulders touch whenever someone squeezes past, but she no longer looks as though she is searching for the nearest exit.
“You were incredible!” Lucy says as I pull her into my arms. She smells like lilies and honey, and the comfort of her settles something restless inside me.
“I’m really glad you came,” I say, holding her a little tighter. Everything about her—the way she fits against me, the warmth of her body, the way she feels so right—calms me in a way nothing else ever has.
She tilts her head, her smile softening. “My dad already headed home. Aunt Joss stayed with Mom.”
“She’s doing better?” I ask, studying her face.
Lucy nods. “Yeah. The antibiotics are working, but she’s still weak and anxious about being alone. Joss didn’t have any catering jobs tonight, so she stayed with Mom.”
“And tomorrow?” I ask gently, already bracing myself.
Lucy exhales, her lips pressing together. “Joss has a big event, so I might not make it to laser tag.”
“I’ll probably go for a while,” I say. “You can join us after if you’re up for it.”
She steps back slightly, her hands resting against my chest. “I know how much the team stuff matters to you. Joss is trying to find someone who can switch shifts—”
“That’s okay,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “If she can’t find someone, there will be other nights.”
“We usually finish around nine,” she offers softly. “If she can’t find someone else, I could come by after.”
I smile, even if it’s a little tight. Darnell’s warning is still lodged beneath my ribs, making her absence feel more significant than it should.
“They’ll probably still be there. Those guys spend hours playing laser tag.”
Her eyes linger on mine, perceptive as always, but instead of pushing, she leans in and kisses me lightly. “Then I’ll try.”
For a few seconds, we stand quietly beneath the stadium lights while the departing crowd moves around us.
The world keeps asking for pieces of me.
The team wants loyalty.
The scouts want results.
Everyone wants answers.
Lucy never asks.
She waits.
She listens.
She offers space instead of demands.
And standing here with her, the night air cool against my skin, I know how rare that is. How dangerous it might be to lose it.
That thought should scare me.
Instead, it makes me want to protect this, protect us, with everything I have.
“I was thinking…” she says, her voice dipping, playful but sincere. “I’d really like to… return the favor. The way you made me feel the other night.”
My pulse stutters.
“Yeah?” I manage.
She nods, cheeks flushed. “My parents and Aunt Joss will probably want to talk all night, and since your roommates are out… maybe we could go to your dorm.”
I grin, sliding my arm around her shoulders and drawing her close. The anticipation between us is undeniable. We both know why we’re going.
We walk across campus beneath a sky heavy with clouds, the moon glowing faintly behind them. The world feels smaller somehow. Quieter.
When we reach my dorm, I unlock the door and lead her inside. The hallway is empty, our footsteps soft as we make our way to my room.
Once inside, I close the door behind us. She slips off the sweatshirt and turns toward me, nervous but resolved.
We reach for each other at the same time, and when our lips meet, the kiss is deep and urgent.