Page 55 of Catching Kyle (Football Heartthrobs #1)

Kyle Weaver

It’s snowing at the Portland stadium today, which would be momentous on its own.

But it’s also Championship Game Sunday, and the day I prove my love to Michael.

The crowd quiets as the two teams huddle around the camera on center field.

Ezekiel, our team captain, steps forward and faces the Vanguards’ team captain, the referees to our side.

Since they’re the visiting team, they get to do the coin toss.

One of their sponsors comes forward as the head referee says a few words.

The Vanguards call tails. The sponsor flips the coin.

The coin lands tails up, and the crowd goes wild. That means we’re receiving this half.

Ezekiel and I walk next to each other. Since I’m defense, I gotta sit this one out.

I pat his back, wishing him luck. He grabs me by the shoulder pads and looks right in my eyes, then offers a solemn nod.

A wish of luck. And I know this wish isn’t just for the game but for our plan that’s been weeks in the making.

Our team lined up, waiting for the kickoff, I can feel my heart pound everywhere in my body.

But I don’t know which has me more nervous: the fact that this is the most important game that I’m playing for myself rather than my daddy, or the plan to win Michael back for good.

I’ve been too preoccupied to check the suites before the game, so I don’t know if he’s actually come.

I really, really hope he’s here. Or else I’ll do all this for nothing.

The Vanguards kick the ball, and the game begins. And already, it’s like two titans battling it out. The Tigers know how to run a ball, but the Vanguards know how to stop it. I truly don’t know who’s gonna win this .

Having some time out, I search the suites around the stadium for any hint of Kyle, Amani, Jessica, or any of his friends.

In all the commotion of the Championship Game, I’ve completely forgotten where I sat them.

But even if I did remember where I put them, the snow is falling too much now for me to see clearly.

I blink the snow out of my eyes, trying to get a better look, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

Because the Vanguards have already taken possession of the ball, and it’s time for me to get out there.

Ezekiel stops me on the field as we swap places. “Give ‘em hell,” he says.

“One last time,” I say, patting him on the shoulder.