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“I don’t care. Give me a kiss. You are my good-luck charm.”

I tilt my head up and pull myself up a little more to reach her. She leans over as far as she can and puts her hands on either side of my face.

“Good luck, Beck. I love you so much. Keep yourself safe out there. And tell Archie he’d better protect my guy.”

And then our lips meet. It’s too short, but it’s sweet.

I drop down and walk backward, still looking at Charlie. I put two fingers over the four-leaf clover tattoo over my heart, then kiss my fingertips and point them at her. She hasn’t stopped smiling.

When I get back over to my teammates, Coach is standing there with a scowl on his face.

“Nice of you to join us, Linson. It’s only the biggest game of your fucking life, but please, don’t let us interrupt your time with your girl. Now get out on the field for warm-ups!”

I grab my helmet off the bench and follow the other guys on offense out to the field.

When we’re doing our warm-ups, I take a minute to look around and soak it all in. This is it. The big show. I smile to myself, then look over at Casey next to me. We both smirk at each other.

We fucking did it.

About three hours later, we’re in the fourth quarter. We are behind—twenty-eight to twenty-four—with twelve seconds left to play, no time-outs, after Bo called our last one while he was lying on the ground. The Southeast Bulls have no time-outs left either.

We are on the left hash mark, at the thirty-seven-yard line, on the Bulls side, with the wind in our faces. It is now the third down, after Bo got sacked by their blitz. My back is killing me from the last hit I took two plays ago.

Archie stands beside me and smacks my chest with the back of his hand. “Man, I’m so fucking sorry I missed that block. He got me on my blind side. I promise you, it won’t happen again.”

I pat his shoulder and nod.

All eleven guys in the huddle, including Archie and me, are tired, sweaty, and bloody, but as we look at each other, I know without a doubt that we won’t accept anything but a win.

I follow Bo’s glance to Coach Pettys on the sideline, who taps the top of his hat, telling Bo that he should call the play. Bo turns to look at me and nods his head, letting me know that he wants to hand me the ball. It is all on me now.

We practiced a swing pass that we called Elvis. Once Bo receives the ball from our center, he’ll then toss the football to me as I move to the right. In order for this to work, Archie has to seal the outside of the D-end for the wide receivers and tight end to get solid downfield blocks to spring me to the end zone.

Bo looks at us. “Okay, boys, this is ours! Let’s finish this now! We won’t need a fourth down! All right, trips right, two swings, X left, shotgun, on one!” He claps once.

We break the huddle. The three receivers split to the wide side, with the X receiver, Casey, headed to the nearest sideline. I’m two yards in back of Bo, three yards to his left. Our center is over the ball, ready to hike. The guards and tackles get into their pass blocking stance, and the tight end is slightly outside our right tackle on the line of scrimmage, giving him leverage on his coming block. I look at the defense as they get set.

With this Elvis call, I know that if there are only four defenders in the box on the line of scrimmage, Bo will audible the call to red, meaning he will hand off the ball to me and I’ll run sweep to the right side of the field and the blockers will know to go into run block action. Our left guard will pull to the right, and the other linemen will seal block to the run side.

If there are five defenders in the box, he’ll call blue, so he will throw a Z-out pass to Casey, streaking down the field, with the play designed for him to throw the ball into the outside deep corner of the end zone and for Casey to catch it. Pass blocking will stay the same as Elvis, with me staying in to guard the left side if we have a corner blitz from Bo’s blind side.

I look out over the defense and see the Bulls shift into a blitz with both linebackers ready to come on the snap. This is just what we wanted.

Bo yells, “Elvis,” meaning we run the play we called in the huddle.

I take a deep breath as I watch the end zone clock ticking down.

Nine, eight, seven …

Bo calls, “SET,” and the ball is tossed to him from the center.

I start to move, and our line goes into pass blocking, shifting to the right to zone block. The tight end chips the defensive end, knocking him off his feet, then heads downfield to block the weak side safety, following our play to the right.

It feels like time is moving in slow motion. Bo looks to his left, faking a pass to the left, temporarily holding the weak side safety and left-side defensive end, then quickly flings the ball to me. I catch it, then plant my right foot hard and head downfield. Our wide receivers all hit their blocks and hold them long enough for me to clear and get a wide-open field into the end zone.

Holy shit. We fucking won!

I turn toward my teammates on the field. I see Bo rushing to the end zone. The receivers and tight end run over to me. Archie reaches me and lifts me up, and all I can hear are my boys yelling and the crowd going crazy. Archie sets me down, and we’re all jumping and hugging each other. Helmets are flung off, and the fans start pouring onto the field. It’s pure insanity.