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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

BECKHAM

The last week and a half has been brutal, and to be real, I haven’t been playing my best. We were in the field house, running plays more than anything. Training for the championship game, eating, sleeping. The university even waived attendance in class due to our practices and travel schedule.

I’ve texted Charlie every day. Sometimes just to say I love her. Been talking to my dad and sister too.

We’re playing this championship game in Miami, and I can’t complain. We get some cold weather at Walker, but playing in warmer weather is top choice. And this time of year in Florida isn’t as hot, so it’s prime.

My family is on their way down here now. Their plane should land in the next hour or so. The Kings, including Charlie, are traveling with them. The hotels we stay in try to keep blocks of rooms reserved for family for games like this, so they were able to get rooms at our hotel again. Which is great because I love seeing her and my family before we get on the bus to head to the game.

This morning, after we got here, we watched film in one of the conference rooms the hotel set up for us. Now, we’re pulling into the players’ entrance at the stadium parking lot. We have to do some press, and we’ll be running some drills. Southeast had the field this morning since they hadn’t had to travel as far as we did. So, aside from stadium staff, we—the trainers, coaches, and team—are the only ones here.

After dropping our gear in the locker room, we’re escorted out to the field. We’ve played in bowl games like this before, but last year, we didn’t make it to the semifinals. This hits different.

Casey is walking next to me, and I elbow him. He turns to me, and we smile at each other.

“Beck! Can you fucking believe this? Every-fucking-thing we’ve worked for is right here in our hands. All the blood, sweat, fucking two-a-days got us to this spot. I’m so pumped right now. I just want to get dressed and win this motherfucker!” Casey is practically bouncing on his feet.

It’s not that I’m not excited. I am. I think I’m just trying to absorb it all. There’s a confidence I feel in our team, and assuming we don’t royally fuck up, I think we can win this. I want to win it for all of us because we’ve worked so hard this season, but I also want Liam to leave Walker with this win on his stats sheet.

Archie comes up behind us and gets us both in a headlock. “Hey, dickheads. Can you believe this? This is the tits. We’re gonna blow those Southeast fuckers away—ya feel me? Oh shit, hold up. Where’s Pitz?”

He lifts his arms off Casey and me and looks around for Liam. He’s across the field with the quarterback coach and Bo, but that doesn’t stop Archie from letting out a piercing whistle to get his attention. When the entire team looks at Archie, he puts a hand up.

“Pitz, get your ass over here for a minute.”

The quarterback coach just shakes his head at Archie and shoves Liam toward us.

Pitz jogs over, then jumps on Archie’s back. “You dick. I was going over a few new plays with the coach.”

Archie flips Liam off his back, but before Liam lands on the ground, Arch grabs his arm. “Can’t have you getting injured before your last game as a Stallion.” Then he smacks Pitz on the ass.

“Ow, asshole. That hurt. I don’t have pads on yet, you dick,” he says as he shoves Archie.

Archie hardly moves and laughs at Liam’s attempt. “Okay, fellas. Let’s be real for a few minutes. This is my last college game. Last game Pitz will play as a Stallion. Linson, I didn’t know when I met you—what, two years ago now?—that you would become one of my best friends. You’re a hell of a player, but an even better friend. And, King, you level out Linson’s moodiness, which is why we’ve kept you around.”

We all laugh.

“I’m just playin’. You would do anything for any of us, and that’s appreciated more than you know, King. We know you have our backs, no matter what, on and off the field.

“Now, Pitzy, we’ve been playing together for three seasons. You’ve been my QB, my wingman, and one of my best friends. I’m really going to miss seeing your ugly mug every day.

“Okay, enough sappy shit. Let’s bring it in.” He holds out his arms and waves us in. “Come on, fuckers. Let’s do this.”

The four of us stand in a circle, arms around each other’s shoulders.

“Here’s to the games we’ve won together and the one we’re about to win. And here’s to our brotherhood. We might not be related by blood, but I wouldn’t want to do this without you guys. Now let’s go get that fucking trophy!”

We all yell, “Hell yeah!”

“Hold up. Let me get a pic of the four of us on the field.” I pull out my phone and put it in selfie mode.

Since Liam has the longest reach, I hand my phone to him. The four of us squeeze in the frame. We’re all smiling, and Archie is holding up his index finger next to his face. Liam takes a few in rapid succession, then hands my phone back to me.

I’m really missing Charlie today, and I feel like she should be here with us on this field. So, I send her one of the pics.

Beck: Go, Stallions!

Charlie: Oh my God, I love this!

Beck: I love you.

Charlie: I love you too. See you soon!

I drop my phone into my pocket then turn and jog to meet Casey, Liam, and Archie.

Archie has an interview he needs to do, and the rest of us need to run drills. Then we will be watching film and shooting commercial shots.

After we leave the field for a break before the game, we’ll eat as a team, run over a few more plays, then go to bed. Coach has set a curfew tonight—not that we need one. We all know what’s at stake here. And we’re not walking away from this game without the trophy.

We’re standing in the tunnel, waiting to go out onto the field. We’re all shifting on our feet, anxious to get out there. Coach is near the opening, leading the team. Casey, Archie, and I are near the front, but behind Bo and Liam. They are holding hands, standing calm and ready to take the field.

That’s just another thing that makes Bo Callaway special. He is a team player and already a great leader, and he’s respectful of his teammates. This show of solidarity is also a sign of respect to Pitz and the time he’s played at Walker. Gotta admire that.

Archie is standing next to me, and Casey is on my other side.

Archie is hyping the team up, jumping around. “Let’s fucking go! Who are we?”

“STALLIONS!” the team yells.

“What are we gonna do today?”

“WIN!”

Then he turns to me and smacks the top of my helmet and then Casey’s. “Let’s go, baby! Linson, I got you, man. I won’t let anyone get by me today.” He turns to Casey. “King, you get the ball, and you run like your life depends on it!”

“You know it, baby. Let’s GO!”

They grab hands and pull each other in and bump chests.

We can hear our fight song playing, so that’s one of our signals that we’re about to run out onto the field. The fireworks on either side of our tunnel start to go off, and then we hear our cue.

“Please welcome the Walker University Stallions!”

We all run out as a team. Archie is bouncing up and down and waving his arms, trying to get the fans to cheer louder. Casey and I jog over to the sideline, find our spots, and place our helmets on the bench. When I look up, I see my dad and sister. Next to them are the Kings. And Charlie. I knew she would be here, of course, but we didn’t get a chance to see our families before we left for the field this morning or talk to them before the game because we couldn’t use our phones. Coach didn’t want us to get distracted.

Charlie waves at me, and I get a glimpse of her jersey. My fucking number is on her chest. I nod and smile at her. We’re not supposed to talk to anyone before we play, but fuck it.

I move around the bench and walk toward the stands.

“Dude, where are you going?” Casey yells over the noise of the crowd.

I tilt my head toward Charlie, and Casey just shakes his head and smiles.

When I get to the wall, I reach up and slap my dad’s and sister’s hands, then Carol’s and Tim’s. They all wish me luck, and I smile and nod, gaze still on Charlie. She’s watching me and smiling.

“Come here, baby.”

I reach up to the bar she’s leaning on and pull myself up a little. She bends down to meet me.

“You’re crazy! You know that, right? Coach could bench you for this!” She’s laughing and shaking her head, her eyebrows raised.

“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.

Casey runs up to me from the side, stopping and grabbing my shoulder pads. “We fucking did it, brother! You fucking did it!”

He pulls me in for a hug. I close my eyes for just a second. All the hard work, two-a-days, camps, blood, bruises—it was all worth it for this moment.

But now I want to go get my girl. This all means nothing without her by my side.