Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DEREK
The stadium lights of Redwood University's field blazed against the darkening sky as our bus pulled into the parking lot. I pressed my forehead against the cool window, watching the opposing team warm up on the field.
This was it. My first start since the injury.
Ten months of recovery, physical therapy, Pilates, therapy sessions, and fighting my own mind had led to this moment. I should have been excited. Pumped. Ready to prove everyone wrong.
Instead, my hands were shaking.
“You good?” Aaron's voice cut through my spiral. He'd taken the seat next to me on the bus, a show of solidarity that I appreciated more than I could say. Yet, it annoyed me as I couldn't text Rosalie.
“Yeah,” I lied automatically.
Aaron didn't buy it. “Dex. Talk to me.”
I tore my gaze from the window to look at my friend. His blue eyes, matching Rosie’s, were concerned but not pitying. That made it easier somehow.
“I'm terrified,” I admitted quietly, not wanting the rest of the team to hear. Especially not Max. “What if I freeze out there? What if I can't do it?”
“Then we adjust. We've got your back.” Aaron's hand landed on my shoulder, firm and grounding. “But Dex? I don't think you're going to freeze. You've been killing it in practice all week. You're ready.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you stopped playing scared.” Aaron's words were simple, but they hit deep. “Last game, you were protecting yourself. These last weeks in practice? You've been playing to win. There's a difference.”
Was there? Had something shifted without me noticing?
I thought about the past week. About my therapy session with Dr. Morrison, about the 2 AM phone call with Rosalie, about finally feeling like maybe, just maybe, I was putting myself back together.
“Yeah,” I said finally. “Maybe you're right.”
“I'm always right.” Aaron grinned, breaking the tension. “Now get your head in the game. We can't let the girls think you don't have it.”
My head snapped toward him. “What?”
“Nova, Ivy, and Rosie. They're in the stands.” His grin widened. “Rosie has been doing so much better since training you. I know I was busting your balls about flirting with her, but ever since her injury, she is delicate. But now I’m slowly starting to see parts of her come back: not skipping every class, being more present, and happier. I hate to say it, but I think it helped her to bond with you over the injury. And it helped you, too.”
I nodded, a huge knot forming in the pit of my stomach. “She's great, man.” That didn't even begin to cover how I felt about her, but for her brother, it would do. “She really knows her thing. You should be proud.”
“I am,” Aaron smiled. “I might come across as a dick when it comes to her, but fuck, you haven't seen how broken she was. It killed me. Especially because I couldn't protect her. I felt so... out of control.”
I didn't want to mention that I saw her at her worst, sobbing in my arms when she hated herself. I felt his terror at not being able to help. But I knew, being there for her was enough.
“You're a good brother,” I told him, and Aaron laughed.
“According to her last message, I need to get a life.”
I let out a short laugh, knowing Aaron was still pushing Rosie to share her location all the time.
“You will do great, I know.” He clapped me on the shoulder and headed toward the front of the bus, leaving me stunned in my seat.
This was the first time Aaron and I talked about Rosie, and he admitted I was a good influence on her.
Maybe if he found out that I was more than just an influence, he would be cool with it.
He said it himself, Rosalie was happier.
Maybe it all could work out, and we won't need to keep it a secret. Maybe...
“Let's go, Dex!” Coach's voice boomed from outside. “We're not getting any younger!”
Right. Game first, existential crisis later.
I grabbed my bag and followed my teammates off the bus, the cool evening air hitting my face like a slap. The smell of grass, sweat, and competition filled my lungs. This was familiar. This was home.
In the locker room, I went through my pre-game ritual. Tape my ankles. Check my cleats. Stretch my knee. Deep breaths. Put in my headphones and let Rosalie's playlist drown out everything else.
The current song was “Rise Up” by Andra Day, the acoustic version she'd added two days ago. The lyrics talked about getting knocked down and finding the strength to keep going.
And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day. I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid.
My phone buzzed.
Rosalie
Surpriseeeee! We're here. Front row, section C. You will kill it, boyfriend.
Now I was happy Aaron was no longer sitting close to me.
Thank you for being here. It means everything.
Rosalie
Nowhere else I'd rather be. Now go score some goals, boyfriend.
Boyfriend. I was never going to get tired of seeing that word.
I pocketed my phone and headed toward the tunnel, falling into line with my teammates. The roar of the crowd grew louder as we approached the field. My heart hammered against my ribs, but it wasn't panic this time.
It was anticipation.
We burst onto the field, and the crowd erupted. I scanned the stands and found section C almost immediately. There they were, Nova waving like a maniac, Ivy with her phone out recording, and Rosalie.
Rosalie, wearing my number 7 jersey, her hair in a high ponytail, her smile so bright I could see it from across the field.
Our eyes met. She pressed her hand to her heart, her grin wide.
I'm here. I've got you.
I waved back.
I know. I've got this.
“Why is Nova wearing your jersey again?” Maddox walked beside me, his eyes narrowing on the three girls. I didn't even notice Nova wearing my jersey, but I guess it made sense.
“It's my return game.”
“No, that was the excuse for the last one,” he grumbled, unimpressed. Guess he wanted her to wear his jersey.
“Rosie is wearing it too,” I added to make him feel better, but he only snorted.
“Yeah, but that's expected.”
I turned to stare at my best friend, who only arched his brow in return. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I was going to ask him to explain himself when Max called us to the sidelines.
We huddled up, Max in the center. “All right, listen up.
Redwood's defense is aggressive but sloppy.
They'll try to intimidate us physically.
Don't let them. Play smart, play clean, play together.” His eyes found mine.
“Dex, you're our target up front. We feed you, you score. Simple as that. Trust yourself.”
“Trust the process,” Maddox added, bumping his fist against mine.
“Trust the team,” Aaron said from my other side. He didn't know about his sister and me, but he still had my back. That meant something.
“Titans on three,” Max said. “One, two, three.”
“TITANS!” we roared in unison.
The referee's whistle blew, and we took our positions. I stood at the center circle, across from Redwood's captain, a massive defender with a scar across his eyebrow and a mean look in his eye.
“Heard you were injured,” he said as we waited for kickoff. “Shame. It would've been nice to face you at full strength.”
The comment was meant to rile me up, to get in my head. Old Dex would have fired back with something cocky. New Dex just smiled.
“Guess you'll find out if I'm at full strength soon enough.”
The whistle blew. Max kicked the ball to Maddox, and we were off.
The first twenty minutes were a feeling-out process. Redwood came at us hard, exactly like Max said they would. Their defenders were physical, using every opportunity to bump, push, and grab. They played dirty, earning a couple of yellow cards in the process.
Each time someone got close to me, I felt the familiar spike of anxiety. My knee would twinge with phantom pain, my breath would catch.
But then I'd hear Dr. Morrison's voice: Fear is information. Do it anyway.
I'd see Rosalie in the stands, on her feet, cheering.
And I'd push through.
In the 23rd minute, Max intercepted a pass in midfield. He looked up, saw me making a run, and sent a perfect through ball between two defenders.
This was it. My moment.
I accelerated, my legs pumping, my knees feeling strong. The ball rolled perfectly ahead of me. The goalkeeper came off his line, trying to narrow the angle.
Time slowed. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, feel the grass beneath my feet, and see every option playing out.
Shoot low left. Chip over the keeper. Pass to Maddox on the wing.
The defender was closing in from behind. In my peripheral vision, I saw him lunge.
Ten months ago, everything ended. A defender coming in too hard, too fast. The snap of ligaments. The end of everything.
But this wasn't ten months ago.
I touched the ball with my right foot, shifting it slightly left. The defender missed me by inches. The goalkeeper committed, diving to his right.
I struck the ball with my left foot, sending it sailing into the upper left corner of the net.
The crowd exploded.
And I was back.
My team jumped on top of me, shouting and grinning. It wasn't just any goal for us. I scored it, and I didn't mess up. My heart swelled from the way they all supported me and ruffled my hair in the process.
But my eyes were glued to section C, watching Nova and Rosie screaming their lungs out for me. I saw tears streak down Rosie's cheeks and her grin widen when she caught my eyes.
This was all because of her. Of course, I put in the work, but she was there every step of the way. And all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight.
Instead, I smiled at her, and she smiled back. Having our secret little moment in the midst of chaos.
We went into halftime up 2-0. My goal plus another from Maddox off a corner kick. In the locker room, Coach praised our defense and encouraged us to keep the pressure on.
“Dex,” he said, pulling me aside. “Hell of a goal. How's the knee?”
“Good, Coach. Strong.”