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My dad leans over and reassures her, “Carol, they’re fine. The clock is running out; they’ll be done here in a few minutes, and then we can celebrate.”

Mom nods, and we all stand as the clock winds down.

I let go of my mom’s hand and turn to face her. “I’m going to go out onto the field. Are you guys coming or going back to the hotel?” I ask.

We’re staying at the same hotel as the team, and even though families got to see the players briefly before the game, we haven’t really gotten to see them the past few days. I can’t wait to wrap my arms around Beck. They must all be so pumped. One step closer now with the final seconds on the clock.

My dad leans around Mom. “I think we’ll make our way down there, but if it gets too hectic or people start rushing the field, we’ll just go back to the hotel and wait to see the boys there.”

“Okay, I’m going to start making my way over to the gate. Mr. Linson, Brooke, are you guys coming down?”

Beck’s dad looks like an older version of him. Dark hair, blue-gray eyes. He’s always been kind of quiet, but kind. Brooke has the same hair color, but her eyes are dark brown.

He looks down at Brooke, who is nodding.

“Yes, I want to go see Beck on the field!”

“Field it is,” Mr. Linson says. “And, Charlie, stop calling me Mr. Linson and call me Ryan. I’ve known you practically your whole life, and now you’re an adult. Let’s make the awkward stop now.” He smiles at me.

“Righto.”Righto? Who am I right now?“I’ll just meet you down on the field then. Do you want to come with me, Brooke?”

Ryan answers before she can respond, “I’m going to keep her with me in this crowd.”

Brooke rolls her eyes. “Dad, I’m almost seventeen. I’m pretty sure I can handle myself in a stadium. That has security. In literally every corner. We’d just be walking right down this row.”

Ryan sighs and looks up. “We’ll meet you down there, Charlie.”

I mouth,Sorry, to Brooke, hug my parents, and walk down the row to the gate.

Beck is standing on the sideline, and he looks back to the stands just as I walk behind him. He’s close enough that we can touch, but he tilts his head toward the direction of the gate. I nod in understanding.

When I get to the gate, a small crowd is forming, and I wave at the faces I recognize. Most family members have passes around their necks, and those who don’t are fans trying to get down onto the field. They like to try to blend in with family to get through security.

“Umph. Good Lord, these people are pushy.” A lady with shoulder-length sandy-colored hair is standing slightly in front of me. She turns her head to look at me when she realizes I heard her.

I laugh because, yeah, they can be. And I’m about to push through this crowd, too, so I can get to Beck.

“This is my first time at a college football game. It’s all so exciting, but I’m not sure I could handle these crowds at every game,” she says as she reaches over to grab the handrail next to us.

When she looks at me again, there’s something about the way she smiles that looks familiar. I feel a little like I might be staring at her mouth, so I shake my head.

“Oh wow. That’s so fun! Your first game? You’ll never forget it. This was a big win for us. Onto the championship game now! Go, Stallions!” I lift my hands up waist high and wiggle my gloved fingers.

She laughs at my gesture, but the smile on her face drops quickly. “You here to see a boyfriend or something? Or are you a fan?”

“Oh, yeah. Well, not just my boyfriend, but my brother plays too.” I turn my back to her and look to where I see Casey standing near the bench. Next to him, Beck is squirting water from his bottle into his mouth. His dark brown hair is falling on his forehead from being wet with sweat. I point at Beck, then look over my shoulder to see if she sees where I’m directing.

She swallows, and she looks back at me. “You pointing at number twenty-four?”

I nod with a prideful grin.

“So, funny story. I’m actually here to see your boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry, what? I don’t think I heard you right. You’re here to seemyboyfriend?” I ask, confused.

Why would she be here to see Beck?

She clears her throat. “I’m his mom. Beckham Linson? He’s my son. I wanted to surprise him. I haven’t been able to come watch his games since they’re so far away. But I figured with them playing here, I wanted to at least try to see him, even if it was just for a minute. I’m not really sure how these things work.” She chuckles, but it seems forced.