Page 94
Story: The Comeback Pact
He’s stopped. I run a few steps farther but stop, too. Glancing up, I scan the crowd. The middle section of the stadium is all pointing to one area, echoing my name again and again.
And then I see her. My beautiful, fierce McKenna.
She’s biting her lip like she does, arms extended straight out in the air, holding up a sign.
I met this guy…
And even though he doesn’t talk,
even though he’s a football player,
I think I’m in love with him.
The world stops.A reverberation hits me right in the core; a resounding, earth-shattering answer to her words. We were always an inevitability. I may have gotten lost in the weeds, but this is the final quarter, the closing minutes of play.
I was never one to think about my romantic future—my parents weren’t the best role models. But if I had to choose the most epic feeling to coincide with a moment in my life that would change me forever, it would feel like this. Like I could run the fastest marathon in the world. Like I could climb Everest hours before anyone else, then stand on top and plant my flag. A profound moment where I know that I’m completely, utterly, deeply in love with this woman. And that’s the final score.
My legs start running before I realize it. Somewhere along the way, I lose my helmet. The crowd’s cheers fade away until all I see is Kenna, standing there, her eyes shining and glassy.
I jump up the wall, grabbing the metal handrail on top and holding myself there. “You think you love me?”
She hands off the poster to a girl next to her and steps toward me. “IknowI love you, West Brooks.”
Her hands come up to cup my cheeks, and I yank myself forward, sealing my lips to hers in a desperate kiss. The rioting in my brain rivals the chaos occurring around us. Fans cheer. Silly String cascades down us like royal-blue confetti. We laugh into each other’s lips.
Pulling away, she stares into my eyes. “Now the whole world knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That I’ll never stop fighting for you.”
The parts of me that weren’t stitched up knit together in that moment. It’s like when the quarterback calls the right play at the right time for a historic win.
“Then they know I won’t stop fighting for you either.”
The soft smile she gives me is everything. She grips my neck, tugging me forward until we kiss once more to the delight of the crowd. I’ll be pulling Silly String out of her hair for days.
She places soft kisses across my cheeks until she says in my ear, “I kind of promised this little girl that you’d say hi to her. She lent me the sign and got me a marker.”
I peek at the young girl beside Kenna who’s beaming, lit up like the sun. “So, I have her to thank?” I ask.
Kenna grips my forearm as we both face the girl. “I guess so.”
The girl is already answering for Kenna, nodding intensely.
I hold my hand out, keeping my grip on the railing so I don’t fall backward. “I’m West Brooks.”
She puts her hand in mine, and I give it a gentle shake.
“I’m Lyndsey, but my friends call me Lyn-Z. Without thedand just azon the end.” She enunciates theZlike she’s giving her own professional interview.
“Nice to meet you, Lyn-Z.” I notice she has another poster in her hands that reads West is My Hero. The words hit me right in the heart. “Tell you what, if I sign your poster, do you think you could give me this one Kenna made for me? I promise to keep it forever.”
She nods happily.
Kenna hands me a blue marker, and then has to help hold me up while I write: Lyn-Z, you’re MY hero. Then scribble my name and end it with #53.
“You mean it?” she asks.
And then I see her. My beautiful, fierce McKenna.
She’s biting her lip like she does, arms extended straight out in the air, holding up a sign.
I met this guy…
And even though he doesn’t talk,
even though he’s a football player,
I think I’m in love with him.
The world stops.A reverberation hits me right in the core; a resounding, earth-shattering answer to her words. We were always an inevitability. I may have gotten lost in the weeds, but this is the final quarter, the closing minutes of play.
I was never one to think about my romantic future—my parents weren’t the best role models. But if I had to choose the most epic feeling to coincide with a moment in my life that would change me forever, it would feel like this. Like I could run the fastest marathon in the world. Like I could climb Everest hours before anyone else, then stand on top and plant my flag. A profound moment where I know that I’m completely, utterly, deeply in love with this woman. And that’s the final score.
My legs start running before I realize it. Somewhere along the way, I lose my helmet. The crowd’s cheers fade away until all I see is Kenna, standing there, her eyes shining and glassy.
I jump up the wall, grabbing the metal handrail on top and holding myself there. “You think you love me?”
She hands off the poster to a girl next to her and steps toward me. “IknowI love you, West Brooks.”
Her hands come up to cup my cheeks, and I yank myself forward, sealing my lips to hers in a desperate kiss. The rioting in my brain rivals the chaos occurring around us. Fans cheer. Silly String cascades down us like royal-blue confetti. We laugh into each other’s lips.
Pulling away, she stares into my eyes. “Now the whole world knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That I’ll never stop fighting for you.”
The parts of me that weren’t stitched up knit together in that moment. It’s like when the quarterback calls the right play at the right time for a historic win.
“Then they know I won’t stop fighting for you either.”
The soft smile she gives me is everything. She grips my neck, tugging me forward until we kiss once more to the delight of the crowd. I’ll be pulling Silly String out of her hair for days.
She places soft kisses across my cheeks until she says in my ear, “I kind of promised this little girl that you’d say hi to her. She lent me the sign and got me a marker.”
I peek at the young girl beside Kenna who’s beaming, lit up like the sun. “So, I have her to thank?” I ask.
Kenna grips my forearm as we both face the girl. “I guess so.”
The girl is already answering for Kenna, nodding intensely.
I hold my hand out, keeping my grip on the railing so I don’t fall backward. “I’m West Brooks.”
She puts her hand in mine, and I give it a gentle shake.
“I’m Lyndsey, but my friends call me Lyn-Z. Without thedand just azon the end.” She enunciates theZlike she’s giving her own professional interview.
“Nice to meet you, Lyn-Z.” I notice she has another poster in her hands that reads West is My Hero. The words hit me right in the heart. “Tell you what, if I sign your poster, do you think you could give me this one Kenna made for me? I promise to keep it forever.”
She nods happily.
Kenna hands me a blue marker, and then has to help hold me up while I write: Lyn-Z, you’re MY hero. Then scribble my name and end it with #53.
“You mean it?” she asks.
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