Chapter 25
PENELOPE
It’s Super Bowl Sunday, and before today, that meant nothing to me. Before today, football, magazines, and Jameson Winters meant nothing to me.
But now? They mean everything.
But I’ve lost it all.
I know I’m being stubborn. I know Jameson did not mean what he said, even if it was early in our relationship. We moved so fast that there was no time to adjust—only time to fall in love.
I also know how the gossip mags twist every little word. After Francesca explained to me how things really went down, I agreed to meet with her. She promised it’d be private and just be two friends meeting for coffee.
Francesca told me Jameson’s life story. She didn’t leave out one detail, and I fell more in love with him with each word she spoke.
She talked about how he had a high school sweetheart he thought would stick by him for life, only to realize he had to let her go if he was going to chase his dreams. She explained how Dash had the chance to go pro but chose to forfeit it and stay home to raise Jameson instead.
So, in turn, Jameson worked endlessly to make it to the NFL, all to make his dad proud and give him a piece of what he missed out on.
Francesca also explained a bit of her and Jackson’s story.
The attacks on Jackson's character hit Jameson on a personal level, pushing him to drive the team to win States and showcase Jackson's coaching abilities to the world.
Everything he did, he did with others in mind.
The entire time, I questioned how a man like him could love a girl like me. Now I see it, and I’m a jerk for not believing him when he was honest with me from the start.
I only asked for the truth. And I got it right from the start. It was me who couldn’t believe it. And that’s not Jameson’s problem; it’s my problem. Didn’t I do what everyone did to me? Judge him by an outward look instead of what’s in his heart?
So now I’m at RedZone, where my girls dragged me to watch the love of my life slip further away.
The place is packed, but we’ve managed to score a table right by a television. “Why are you guys torturing me with this?”
“We’re not torturing you. This is where we would be, anyway. It’s not our fault you fucked it up with him.”
“I didn’t fuck it up! The magazine did!”
“So, if it isn’t his fault, and not your fault, why are you sitting here with us instead of watching from the field?”
I’m silent. “Because I’m stubborn and fucked it up.”
They raise an eyebrow in agreement but still commiserate with me.
The bar goes wild as the announcers name the players, and we see them run from the tunnel. It’s a special thing when the town you’re from has a team in the biggest game ever. I watch Jameson run out last, and my heart races.
I miss him.
The cameras follow him. His face is stoic, but I know inside, his adrenaline is pumping.
They flash to the stands, where I see Dash and Summer, Mark and Mackenzie, Jackson and Chess. I fall even more in love with them when I see them sitting in the stands instead of in the sports box.
And it proves just how down to earth they all are.
“Here he comes, ladies and gentlemen! The rookie quarterback we’ve been watching all season. What do you think, Joe? Do you think he’s experienced enough to lead his team today?”
“Two weeks ago, I’d say absolutely. But with the focus on his love life lately instead of the game itself, I have a feeling it may be a distraction for him.”
Oh, God. They’re going to talk about it.
Please don’t name me. Please don’t name me.
My friends glance at me but bring their attention right back to the television.
“You could be right. The All-American boy-next-door isn’t so sweet after all, is he?”
They’re laughing. “Looks like he learned a thing or two from his old coach.”
The camera zooms in on his family once again, specifically Jackson. And I remember what Francesca told me. “The papers are out for blood and money. They will twist and manipulate every little word to get the story that sells. Only read half of it and don’t believe any of it.”
“Well, Frank, Penelope Presley isn’t sitting with Winters’ family, so maybe it was just a weekend thing, despite what his camp has been putting out. Looks like Rent-a-Date went wrong.”
I slink into my chair and want the whole thing to disappear.