September 5th
Very wrong.
Ainsley
“So, how are the boys doing? The team doing?” Chase’s mom asks Dani the second she steps through the door. “Do you think the suspension will distract them?”
“He said the coaches and captains have spoken to the team. I think since it’s just a one-game suspension, at least right now, it’ll be okay. Chase has been trying to keep the offense focused on the game. And the bonus for us is, it means Damon should play today.”
I get a big hug from my uncles as well as Damon’s mom, Jennifer, and Damon’s dad. It’s kind of cool that his parents seem genuinely happy to see me.
“Did you see this? Did Damon?” Damon’s dad asks, handing me a newspaper.
I look at the circled article. It’s talking about how five-star recruit Damon—the son of a Super Bowl–winning quarterback and Nebraska legend—wasn’t good enough to play in the first game. They speculate on why.
That he doesn’t have the mindset. Wrong.
That he’s used to things being given to him because of his name. Wrong.
That he doesn’t work that hard. Wrong.
That he doesn’t have that good of hands. I smile. Very wrong.
In the end, they wonder if he’ll be asked to redshirt, sit out this season and wait until he’s ready. Which, to them, seems stupid, seeing as he got a lot of NIL money to come here. They basically imply that he was a bad investment.
“It’s not very nice,” I say with a frown. “But he says he’s going to light the stadium up today. That there’s no need for fireworks.”
“Really?” Damon’s dad says.
“Yeah. He says he’s getting his chance to show them.”
Damon’s dad looks a little worried. “I hope he does.”
Big corn energy.
Damon
We were able to get a few pregame on-field passes. Dani has a press badge that allows her access to every game, and while I wait for everyone else to get down, I notice Chase sneaking up on Dani, then flipping the hem of her skirt just a little. When she turns around, he winks at her.
“Look at us,” Chase says. “We’re both exactly where we promised we would be.”
“We are,” she says, moving close to him and putting her hand on his chest, pressing on the pads underneath.
And I know what she’s thinking because she’s told me before—that the pads are there to protect his ribs and heart. That he used to need that kind of protection from her, but not anymore.
“I should tell you to have a good game. To wish you fortune and glory, but I have something else to say.”
Chase’s eyes sparkle, and I wonder what she’s going to tell him.
“I’ve decided dating an underclassman would be totally cool,” she says.
“What are you saying?” he asks, looking bewildered.
“I’m asking you to be my boyfriend, Chase.”
He laughs, then says, “That’s kind of scandalous, isn’t it? Since you’re already married?” But then he picks her up, kisses her, and swings her around.
I think about that summer. The promises they made. Then broke.
When Haley, Ryder, and Ainsley join them, I realize that so much has changed—that we’re all starting to live out our dreams.
And today, I plan to showcase mine. For the girl who is walking toward me. Who’s wearing a shirt that features a mascot made of corn and says, Big Corn Energy.
I think about the socks she gave me and can’t help but laugh.
“Big Corn Energy?” I ask, taking her hand.
“You should see the one I got for you,” she says in a flirty tone. “If you do good today, I’ll give it to you tonight.”
My smile is wide when I say, “I’m going to do better than good. I’m going to light this place up. Just wait, fans will be cheering my name.”
“You know I will be,” she says sweetly.
Shock and awe.
Ainsley
I can tell you that once you’ve watched a football game in a suite, you’ll never want to go back to sitting in the stands. It’s hot out, and just walking down to the field made me all sweaty.
Now I’m being treated to sweet, cool air-conditioning.
There’s a buffet filled with food, a fridge full of cold drinks, a well-stocked bar, and our own private bathroom.
There are bar-top tables to sit at, multiple TV screens so that you won’t miss a play, and padded seats lined up in rows with views of the fifty-yard line. We’re up high enough to have a good view, but not too high.
The mood is festive, but I’m feeling nervous. I want Damon to play. To do well. To show everyone that he’s not overrated.
Dani grabs my hand and leads me down to the seats right by the window. “Best spot in the house,” she says.
“Are you working during this game?”
“No, I just get to watch. But beware, I talk during the whole game.”
“I think that will be good for me. I’m trying to learn the intricacies of the game.”
“Then you’ve come to the right spot,” Haley says, sitting on the other side of Dani and rolling her eyes.
“Oh, come on. You love it,” Dani says to her.
“Yeah, I do. To be honest, I was always too busy cheering to really pay much attention to the intricacies of the game. I just knew to yell when they did something good.”
Pretty soon, the team takes the field for the first offensive play, but Damon isn’t lined up.
“I don’t see him,” I say softly.
“He said he wasn’t starting, but expected to get playing time,” Dani says. “We don’t know what that exactly means. Like, how much or when.”
“Okay,” I say.
By the end of the first quarter, the score is tied three–three.
And the game is, well, for lack of a better word, dragging on a bit.
“I didn’t expect this to be a defensive battle,” Dani says. “And I don’t understand. The offensive line is holding, and Chase has time to throw, but no one is open. I know the other team’s defense is playing man-to-man, but someone should be able to break away. Do a pick or something!”
The teams switch sides of the field and play starts again—us with the ball.
“There’s Damon!” Haley calls out. “He’s in the huddle!”
I watch as Chase says something to the guys, and when they break to take their places, Chase gives Damon a fist bump.
“What was that for?” I ask.
“Shock and awe,” Dani says. “I hope.”
“What’s shock and awe?” I ask. “I mean, in regard to football. Wait, Damon mentioned that at your wedding. In his best-man toast. He said they called him and Chase the shock-and-awe package. I meant to ask what that was, but then he made me cry with the rest of the speech, and I forgot.”
“You’ll see,” Dani says cryptically as Chase gets hiked the ball and Damon takes off running.
And he’s fast.
Like, really fast.
Or maybe it’s that his defender isn’t, but he runs right past him, flying down the field. Chase throws the ball—launches it into the air really. And a few moments later, Damon catches it mid-stride and runs another twenty yards into the end zone.
The suite erupts with cheers.
I stay seated, tears filling my eyes, so proud of him. His mom is sitting behind me, and she places her hand on my shoulder. I turn around and look at her and realize she’s teary too.
“This is just the start,” she says to me. “He just needed to get on the field.”
I nod in agreement.
Needless to say, the rest of the game is quite thrilling.
Both Treyvon and Damon make multiple receptions and score a couple of touchdowns apiece.
And because of the team’s success in the throwing game, Dani says it helps to open up the run game. Meaning all the offense seems to be clicking.
Chase hands the ball off to a running back, who runs for a first down.
On the next play, after Damon catches another pass and scores, the commentators announce that Damon has tied the school record for most touchdown receptions in a game—with only two others sharing that spot.
They speculate that since it’s only the beginning of the fourth quarter, it’s possible we could see a new record.
The stadium feels electric. We’re winning by twenty-one points, but no one is sitting down. Even in the suite, with its comfy chairs and amazing view, we’re all standing.
And when our team takes the field on offense again, the announcer’s voice booms through the air, “Mackenzie back to pass. He’s looking right—no, he’s going deep, down the sideline …”
And there Damon is, breaking free from his defender.
The ball arcs through the air and goes toward him like it’s a magnet and he’s metal, zooming to connect.
Damon stretches out, his arms up high, and snags it.
Then he uses those ballet skills he told me about, dragging two feet across the turf and into the end zone.
“Touchdown!” the announcer yells.
And the place erupts. I thought they were cheering loudly before, but this is crazy. Almost deafening. The student section seems to be losing their minds.
As is pretty much everyone in the suite.
Damon’s teammates swarm around him, smacking his shoulder, his helmet, giving high fives.
After a quick replay to verify the play, the announcer says, “The record is broken. Damon Diamond, son of Nebraska legend Danny Diamond, has done it. Four touchdown receptions. I think we’ll be seeing more of this young man in the future.”
“Yeah, on Sundays,” the other announcer says.
When Chase and Damon run together to the sideline before the extra point is kicked, I can see the grins on their faces from clear up here.
We go back to the condo after the game, everyone incredibly happy.
Both Damon and Chase broke school records today.
Chase for throwing the most touchdown passes in a single game and setting a record for most passing yards for a freshman in a single game.
As well as Damon’s four touchdown receptions.
When we get inside, the condo gathering room has been transformed into a party space. Food, drinks, and a big red cake are lined up on the island, and there are balloons wishing Chase a happy birthday.
Damon’s dad quickly switches on the television and listens to a sportscaster talk about the game, about Chase and Damon’s friendship and how they chose to go to the same college, despite experts telling them they should do otherwise.
And I learn the story of how the boys became known as the shock-and-awe package.
How the nickname started when a skeptical local reporter, who thought the boys were only getting hype because of Damon’s last name, came to see one of their games when the boys were only in high school.
He wrote later that he was shocked at Chase’s throwing technique and accuracy and awed by Damon’s agility and ability to catch pretty much anything thrown his way.
And now we can all see, the man was right.
Everyone is in a festive mood, and the party has most definitely started already even though the boys won’t be back from the stadium for a while.
I go into Damon’s condo and send him a quick congratulatory text.
I’m surprised when he texts me right back and tells me that he was asked to do a postgame interview with the press, that I can watch it online, and that he will be here in about an hour.
Even though there’s lots of food, I place an order to be delivered in a couple of hours.
The first thing Damon does when he and Chase arrive is grab my hand and pull me into his condo.
“You were literally amazing,” I tell him. “And I learned what shock-and-awe meant. Like, both the origin and, well, seeing it in person.”
“You inspire me,” he says, pulling me into a tight hug.
And I don’t know what happens to my brain when he hugs me, but I want to blurt out that I’m pregnant. That we have a lot to celebrate.
I take a deep breath and know that I can’t. He needs to keep this going. Have his perfect season.
“Coach told us that we should remember how this game felt. To savor it. And to know that every game we play this season is going to end with us victorious.”
“The coaches were pretty pumped up when you set the record. Hell, the fans in the stands—something like eighty-five thousand—were too. You should have seen your parents. Your mom was teary-eyed, like I was, after your first touchdown. When you set the record, your dad was … overcome with emotion. Your parents really love you.”
“I know they do. I should probably get out there. Celebrate.”
“Yes, you should.” I glance at my watch. “For about an hour, and then we have to take care of our own celebration.”
When I get a notification that our food is almost here, I tell Damon I’m going to get it and to meet me in his condo in ten minutes.
Which gives me time to go downstairs to retrieve the order and get it all set up on his dining room table.
When he comes and looks at the food, he smiles. “Oh, I have a better idea.”
He grabs a big wooden tray, puts all the food on it, carries it into the bedroom, and sets it in the middle of the bed.
“Hey, can you grab the bottle of bubbly in the fridge and a couple of flutes? Then get your pretty ass back in here.”
I do as told, relieved to see that the bubbly is a nonalcoholic version.
He opens the bottle, pours us each a glass, and clinks his glass against mine. “To big corn energy and my lucky charm.”
“Speaking of that, I have something to give you.” I run and grab a wrapped package from my suitcase.
When he opens it and reads what it says on the shirt, he eyes me. “Big COB energy, huh?”
“Well, corn energy is for the game. The cob energy is for me,” I say in my sultriest voice.