Chapter 39
Grace
Wednesday night after class, I head to my condo. I’m drowning in homework and planning on running with Jasmine early tomorrow morning, so I didn’t ask Johnson about coming over for another night.
It feels weird to be here alone, though. And we end up talking for an hour on the phone, so maybe I should have just asked.
One big topic of excitement on our call? Earlier this afternoon, Milo Cantera emailed me to set up a zoom meeting about the potential of working for him. I’ve also landed an interview for one of the finance positions I applied for, but it would be a fallback option.
Once I hang up with Johnson, I spend an hour more on homework and then get to bed, knowing Jasmine will be waiting for me bright and early.
Only when I pull up to our meeting spot, I find Jasmine crying. Oh no.
I speed out of the car and race towards her, immediately putting one arm around her once I’m close enough.
“Jasmine, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“I’m—” she chokes out a sob, “I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m crying because I’m happy.”
What? “Oh good. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yeah, actually.”
“Please, then. Whatever you need.”
Her hiccup sobs slow down after another ten seconds, and she looks me in the eye.
“So there was this guy, he’s on the baseball team.
We dated this summer, and he was really nice at first. But then after we decided to make things official, he was…
different. Really critical, hot and cold.
It was confusing, but he was my first boyfriend at Tolliver, so I felt like I should stay the course. ”
I nod my head to show I’m following. “I’ve had friends who dealt with the same thing. So what happened? You haven’t mentioned him before.”
She shakes her head, looking over the lawn before continuing.
“His behavior—it began to really shake me. Even when he wasn’t around, you know? And he started trying to keep me from running when I wanted, making fun of track and field.”
Oh heck no. I feel myself getting upset on her behalf.
“Finally, I worked up the nerve to break up with him. It was the first day you came to run with us, actually. Something about it all, meeting you, being with the rest of the team, pushed me over the hump. I didn’t want to go through track season figuring out how to navigate his behavior."
I tighten my arm that’s embracing her, giving her a little squeeze. "Sounds like it was the right call, Jasmine."
She smiles. “It definitely was.”
I relax my arm and tilt my body to face her directly. “But wait, why were you crying?”
“Well…” she draws the word out. “When I was coming here, I saw him near the fitness center. He stopped and tried to talk to me. ‘You made a mistake, Jasmine, blah blah blah.’ And I looked him dead in the eye and I said back, ‘No, you were the mistake, Tyler.’” She stops there and watches my reaction.
“Jasmine, oh my god.” I know how much that probably took because of how similar we are. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Yeah, so I’m just crying because it was such a release, you know? I never stand up for myself and I finally did.”
I lean in and give her a hug again. “You did it. So incredible.”
We spend a few beats in the hug and then separate.
“How about that run now, Grace?” she says.
“Let’s go.”
My heart warms up before my body—I think Jasmine’s going to be alright this season.
Sunday comes quickly, and around noon, I head to Landon’s house to meet Rori and my brothers, who are in an Uber from the airport.
“Look, we match,” she says with a laugh as she opens the door. She has on a jacket with a large #55 (Landon’s number) on the back, made by the clothing company she and Landon represent, Triumph—and so do I, because Landon had them make me one too.
“Oh shoot, do you want me to change?”
“No, no, I don’t care about things like that,” she says to me, smiling. “It’s fun to be twinning.”
That’s what is great about Rori. She could be a mean girl—she’s so tough and competitive in her tennis—but in reality, she’s been super friendly and genuine in our interactions. Funny and a little sassy, yes, but not at the expense of others.
When the boys get to the house all tired and grumbling from the airport, I hand cups of coffee to them and they perk up.
“I fucking love when we get together for our birthdays,” Rawley says as he gives me a bear hug post-coffee. “Even if I’m dragging here.”
My birthday is in the football off-season, so it usually involves more of an outing, but for Landon’s birthday, we’re just doing a family dinner tonight with Rori after the game.
“Everything’s all set for tonight,” Rori says. “Food ordered and all that jazz.” It’s nice not to worry about the logistics with her around.
In the meantime, there’s a game to be played. Not wanting to deal with the crowds right around game time, we leave the house early, at two.
“This is cool,” Connor observes as we enter the suite at the stadium. It’s his first time in one, since we always sat in the general family seats when he was here previously.
At an NFL stadium, a suite is no small thing, either in terms of size or cost. There are multiple rooms, including the “deck” type area with twenty-four seats banking the end section towards the field, and two other spaces further back where it’s easier to be private from the crowd and cameras.
“Con, let’s go sit over here,” Rawley says, pointing to a space in the back of the suite. They peel off to do their own thing.
Rori and I hustle down to the front row of the deck to sit and then Jessica walks in shortly after. Johnson had also given me carte blanche to invite friends, so I asked her if she wanted to watch the game with us.
It turns out that Rori had met Carter earlier in the year when he’d joined Landon at a match in Miami, so she and Jessica bond over that connection quickly.
“Oh yes, he was talking about the concerts you have been to with my bestie Maggie!” Rori remembers. “Sleep Token was one, right?”
Jessica’s voice goes up two octaves as they talk animatedly about music, and I take the time to check on Pam, who settled in the opposite section of seats.
Lainie had decided to stay home with the kids, since she doesn’t like watching Johnson get hit.
Pam and I catch each other’s eyes, and she smiles.
“You want to join us over here?” I ask.
“Sure, that would be great!” She walks over and sits behind me, and I introduce the other ladies to her.
The game doesn’t start perfectly, but it’s not bad either.
Johnson is able to make a few key short throws before finally finding Bailey for a thirty-five yard play.
They can’t convert the gain into a touchdown though, with the Dallas defense smothering the receivers for the rest of the downs.
The Waves kicker Del boots the ball through the uprights, so we take a 3-0 lead.
“Better than nothing, better than nothing,” Rori chants quietly to herself as if trying to calm her nerves.
The next three sequences are equally intense. Unfortunately, Dallas gets a touchdown when one of the Waves cornerbacks slips, leaving a wide receiver open. 7-3, Dallas is up.
But then we come back and score a touchdown in return, our running back breaking through a few times for some larger gains. Johnson himself runs it in from the eight-yard line. 10-7, we’re up.
“Look at your man scoring a touchdown,” Jessica teases me in a whisper.
“Shhhhh,” I say to her, covering my mouth to hold in my giggle.
We finally hold them in the next sequence. Landon gets a sack on a third down, setting up Dallas’s punt and giving us the ball back.
“Heck, yes,” Rori yells as Landon levels the Dallas quarterback.
“Hopefully this game gets less stressful now,” Jessica observes.
Only, ninety minutes later, when the fourth quarter starts, we’re under no less stress. It’s now 16-14, with the Waves barely hanging on. Johnson and the offense have struggled to move down the field.
“Dallas is anticipating all of his moves,” I say under my breath. Bailey’s had two big plays, but otherwise it’s been tough for Johnson to get the pass game consistent. The new wide receiver Paul Graves isn’t breaking away from his coverage readily.
“Uh huh,” Jessica quietly agrees.
“You ladies want anything to drink?” Pam asks as she stands up to go to the back room for provisions.
Rori responds first. “This game makes me want something else, but I’ll take wam—“
“OOOOOOHHHHHH.” A huge collective moan comes from the Waves crowd.
And a split second later I see why.
A Waves player is on the ground.
#2.
Johnson.
He’s moving his hands and legs but not getting up.
Whipping my head over to Pam, I see her face full of concern as she looks at the field.
I turn back to watch again. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds pass.
Is that…? Yes, it’s Landon, having come from the sidelines—now standing by Johnson, waving for the trainers to come over. He’s screaming something I can’t make out.
The trainers make it, but nothing is happening.
Johnson is still on the ground.
And then…oh my god…they’re bringing a stretcher.
I can’t breathe.
“I’m going down there,” Pam says loudly to us before she rapidly leaves the suite.
And I sit down, unable to keep myself upright any longer.
Please let Johnson be okay.