Epilogue
BO
This game shouldn’t be as tight as it is. Our defense made a lot of mistakes in the first half, and we’ve been trying to fight back, but it seems like with every touchdown we make, they come back in and score too. It’s really fucking pissing me off.
I’m tired, my foot hurts from getting stepped on, and my nose is sore from getting smashed in the third quarter.
It was nasty. Blood literally burst from my nose, and I had to keep playing through it because it happened right after the ball was snapped.
And I have no doubt I’ll have some pretty nice bruises on my chest, even through my pads.
They’re gunning for me tonight, and I’ve taken more hits than I should be taking.
It’s third down and one, with two minutes left on the clock, at their forty-yard line. We don’t have any time-outs left, and we’re down by a touchdown. If I can get down the field and also slow the clock down, we can win.
“Come on, guys! Wake up! I need every single one of you to lock in and get this done. Do you want this trophy?” I walk around the huddle, getting in their faces.
“Yeah!”
“Then prove it! Slant route on three. Break.”
We all clap, then go to the line of scrimmage.
I look across and see where the defense is moving to determine which receiver I’ll throw to.
They’re heavy on the left, which is where Casey is positioned.
They expect me to throw it to him, so he’s getting guarded heavily today.
He’s hurting just as much as I am, if not more.
I check my line and start the call. “Red thirty-three.” I look to my left first to let Casey know he’s not getting the ball. “Red thirty-three.” I look to my right and make eye contact with my other receiver, Isaac Johnson. He makes no move to indicate that the ball is coming to him. “Set. Hut!”
The center fires the ball to me, and I move to my right, outside the pocket, and look for Johnson.
He breaks through the defense and makes a sharp angle across one of the linemen toward the middle of the field.
I bounce on my feet and spin to avoid a tackle.
When I see Johnson is where I need him, I throw him a diagonal pass, and he takes off running and gets us the first down before he’s taken down with a tackle.
The clock is down to a minute thirty-five, and now’s our chance to get into the end zone and win this.
“Huddle, huddle, huddle,” I call out and wave my guys over. The noise of the crowd is almost deafening, and I can’t hear the calls coming through my headset. “Let’s shut this down.” I look at Casey, and he nods. “Trips Left Nine-Eighty-Seven Fade Susie. Break.”
We all clap.
This play should put Casey far enough down the field to get into the end zone, and Susie is our code for a silent count, which means my right guard, Davis Taylor, will watch for my signal and then tap the center to snap the ball.
Once the center gets the tap, he’ll count silently to three before he snaps the ball to me.
At the line of scrimmage, my receivers position themselves on the left, with Casey as my intended target. The defense sees the formation and adjusts to bring more coverage to the left. And I look to my right to make sure we’re all ready to go. I lift my leg to signal to Taylor.
I watch the defense shift again as I silently count, One. Two. Three.
Then the ball snaps to me. I move out of the pocket to my left and watch as Casey breaks left and starts to run near the sideline. I launch a rocket to him; his arms reach above his head, and he has to jump to grab it. When he lands on his feet, he takes off and runs right into the end zone.
We all rush down the field.
“Fuck yeah, King!” I slap his helmet. “That’s my guy!”
“Let’s fucking go!” he yells, then flexes into the camera in the end zone and tosses the ball to the ref.
We opt for the two-point conversion and line up again without the huddle.
We practice this pattern so many times; everyone knows where they need to be and when.
And we almost always use a silent count on two-point conversions, and this play is no different.
I lift my leg again, and Taylor taps my center.
I count to three in my head. One. Two. Three.
I catch the ball from my center, then turn to my right as my running back runs behind me. I send a toss pass to him, and he runs to the right, diving over the defense to make it into the end zone.
“Hell yeah!” I pump my fist into the air.
The game is all but over now, and our teammates start to run out onto the field to celebrate. It quickly becomes out of control as our fans also start to rush the field. State troopers start to create a circle around us, so we can move to the safe zone.
Red and white confetti starts to fall from the domed ceiling all around us. I try to make my way through my teammates so I can go shake the other quarterback’s hand and also their coach’s. It’s almost impossible to make it through, and then I’m swept away by our media specialist to be interviewed.
I give a quick interview, recalling the game, and then it’s time for us to make our way to the stage they’ve set up out of nowhere.
Someone hands me a T-shirt and a hat that reads National Champions Walker University and has the Stallions logo in the center, but I don’t put it on just yet.
I notice some family members and girlfriends making their way into the group and start looking for Chelsea and my parents—who made the trip after a very long conversation about where Chelsea and I stood—over the crowd.
I spot her walking toward the stage, in her number six jersey, with Noelle and Charlie.
They’re all excited, looking around at everything and trying to find me and Casey.
I spot him over on the other side of the stage.
And when I turn back to look at the girls, Chelsea sees me, and I point to Casey.
She tells Noelle and Charlie, and they split off to go see him, and she makes her way to me. I still don’t see my parents though.
When she reaches me, I lift her into my arms.
“Congratulations!” she yells over the crowd noise.
I lean in and kiss her, not caring who might be watching. And keep kissing her until I feel a tap on the shoulder.
“Bo, excuse me. Can we get a few questions in real quick?” our media manager asks me, then winks at me, letting me know it’s time.
Chelsea and I pull apart.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
I lower Chelsea to the ground and take her hand in mine. She tries to pull away, but I don’t want her to get lost in the crowd so I bring her with me.
“Bo, I can wait for you here so you can do what you need to do, or I can go find the girls.”
“Not a chance. You’re staying with me.” I tug on her hand, pulling her along with me.
When we reach the reporter near the sideline, I lean into her. “If you don’t want to be on camera, you can stand to my left, out of the frame.” I know she’s been a little nervous about all the media exposure, so I don’t want her to feel pressured to stand next to me while I’m on camera.
“I’m good, I promise.” She leans up and kisses my cheek. “I’m so proud of you and proud to stand by your side.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” I lift my eyebrows in question. “You know I’ve got you.”
“I’m sure!” She laughs and wraps her arm around mine.
I look at the interviewer, who I know from other games over the years; she’s also a well-known broadcaster. “Hey, Holly. How’re you doing?”
“Awesome game, Bo! Really incredible.” She shakes my hand.
“Thank you. It was memorable for sure.” I laugh.
“I bet.” She looks at the cameraman, then at me and nods. “Bo, congratulations on your second national championship! How does this one feel compared to the first one?”
I lean down to hear her over the noise and nod as she speaks. “Thanks, Holly. Yeah, I mean, it was a great game today.” I look up at her.
“Your defense missed some crucial errors in the first half. What did you have to do to compensate for those?” She tilts her microphone to me.
“We all made some mistakes out there, but we just had to keep getting out there, executing play after play, and it paid off in the end.”
She holds the microphone toward her mouth. “Is this your girlfriend, Bo?” Then she moves it to me.
I look at Chelsea, but I’m not sure if she heard Holly because she smiling like she’s fascinated by it all. “This is my fiancée, Chelsea.”
Chelsea’s mouth drops open, and she whips her head up, looking at me. And I just smile down at her.
“Well, I mean, she will be here in a second.” I look over Holly’s shoulder and see one of our trainers, Sarah, standing behind her. “Thanks, Holly.”
“Congrats on the win and the engagement, Bo!” She backs away.
I tip my chin, and Sarah rushes over to me. “You got it?”
“Yep, I got it.” She pulls out a ring box from her fanny pack, and then she looks at Chelsea, whose mouth is still hanging open, and smiles as she hands it to me.
“Thanks, Sar. You’re the best.” I give her a nod and take the ring out of the box, then set the box on the ground next to me.
“I know,” she says as she backs away, still watching.
When I turn back to Chelsea, her hands are covering her mouth, but I pull them away and take one of her hands in mine.
“Lucky,” I say as I get down on one knee, “you are the love of my life, my partner in all things, and my best friend. And I’m so excited to walk through this life with you. Will you marry me?”
She starts to cry and nods. “Yes!”
“Thank fuck.” I bark out a laugh. Then I slide the engagement ring onto her finger. When I stand, I lift her in my arms and kiss her. “I love you.”
“Holy shit, Bo! I love you too! I was not expecting this at all. There are cameras everywhere aimed at us.”
I look around and notice that she’s right. “Oops.” I shrug, smiling, not sorry.
My teammates, who are nearby, all rush us, while cameramen fight to get a shot of Chelsea and me.
Then my parents come into the circle, and they hug me first.
“Congratulations, sugar!” my mom says, then hugs Chelsea. “And congratulations to you too! Welcome to the family!”
“Thank you,” Chelsea says, a smile breaking across her face.
“Bo,” my dad says, grabbing my hand, then pulling me in to hug me. “You were amazing out there today. We’re so proud of you.” He turns to Chelsea. “Welcome to the family, Chelsea,” he says, then leans in to hug her.
“Thank you, sir,” she says politely.
It’s been hard for her to know that my dad wasn’t on board with us at first, but we’re all in a good place now, so I know it will work out.
“Bo!” Coach yells. “Callaway! Get your ass over here so we can get this trophy!”
“Go.” Chelsea tries to push me away, but I don’t let her.
“Uh-uh. I want my fiancée where I can see her.”
I kiss her finger with the ring and pull her along with me toward the stage, cameras following us as we go.
I lean down to her ear. “You doing okay with all of this?”
“Which part? The ring or the cameras?” She giggles.
“Baby, I know you wouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t mean it, so I know you’re okay with the ring. I mean the cameras.”
“Bo, this is all part of being with you, and I don’t want to miss a thing, so, yeah, I’m okay with all of it.” As we reach the stairs, she stops. “Now go get that trophy!” She kisses me, then pushes me to climb the stairs.
After Coach gives his speech, he moves and waves me toward the mic. Chelsea is right where I left her, and Casey’s family and Noelle are with her. My parents aren’t far, but closer to the side, some state troopers standing near them.
I adjust the mic and bend down to speak into it. “Let’s go, Stallions!”
Coach hands me the trophy, and I lift it up, and the crowd cheers again.
“First, I would like to thank God. I wouldn’t be here without my faith.
And I want to give a quick shout-out to my teammates, who killed it out there today and fought hard to bring this win home.
Coach Pettys, you brought me to Walker three years ago, and we had a conversation about winning a national championship. But now … we have TWO!”
My teammates cheer and jump around Coach.
“And I’d like to thank my family for always supporting me. And to my fiancée, you are my reason for everything. I love you, Chelsea.” I blow her a kiss, then lift up the trophy and kiss it. “Let’s GO!”
The crowd roars again, and I pass off the trophy to someone else, then make my way off the stage to my girl.
“You ready to celebrate tonight?” I ask her as I lift her in my arms and kiss her.
She wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Hell yeah, I am.” She kisses me fiercely. “Fiancé.” She smirks.
I spin her around, and we laugh.
The first time I saw Chelsea Sullivan, she took my breath away. I thank God every day that I failed that quiz, because it led me to her.
She used to think love was supposed to be loud—fast, dramatic, full of highs and lows.
And I guess that’s what happens when you grow up around people who mistake chaos for care.
But I’m trying to show her something different.
I want to give her peace. The kind of silence where you don’t have to fill the space—you just belong in it, together.
Chelsea was meant to be mine, and I was meant to be hers. And this love we have for each other, it’s the kind of love that lasts.