Page 56

Chapter Fifty-Six

RUTH

A t every other game we’ve played this season, I have a pretty good idea of the way that it’s going to go. I don’t claim to be any kind of expert, but if you spend enough time three feet from a football field, then you start to pick up on which way the wind is blowing.

But I can’t even begin to speculate on who’s going to finish this out on top.

Every minute it seems like a different team is gaining momentum, every player is leaving it all out on the field. My voice is hoarse from screaming and my shoulders kind of feel like they’re going to pop out of their sockets, but there’s a kind of high I experience here that I’ve never found anywhere else.

We’re almost at the end of the final quarter and Allbreck are down by six points. We need one final touchdown-and for our kicker to not fuck up the conversion-and we’ll take the championship.

I’ve spent the last three hours trying not to look at Rowan, but his presence is hard to ignore. It’s not just me who’s feeling it, either. At every break in the game, his team flocks to him, drifting into his orbit like planets around the sun.

Every time I’ve stolen a glance at him, he’s been serious, focused. When I look over now, I see him with a hand on some guy’s shoulders, staring into his eyes as he doles out instructions.

There’s a moment when, half a minute away from the final whistle, I think Beaufort has it. There doesn’t seem like a way for Allbreck to claw this back. But suddenly, our running back manages to break through the Beaufort defense and make it into the end zone. The noise from behind me is deafening, rattling around inside the mascot head until I want to scream.

I snap out of my stupor and go through the motions, running up and down the sidelines, waving and cartwheeling as the fans celebrate.

The officials get everyone into place as Bailey goes to take the deciding kick. If he gets it in, Allbreck will be the conference champions once again. I look over at Rowan, and the helpless look on his face, those wide blue eyes and the tension around his mouth, stops me in my tracks. This must be his worst nightmare, his whole year, the culmination of his entire football career up until this point are about to be decided, and there’s not a single fucking thing he can do about it.

I wish I could go to him, wrap myself around him and press my face against his chest until all that tension bleeds out, but I can’t. There’s a million reasons why not and each of them kills me.

The tension in the stadium is so thick that I feel like I can taste it, as sixty-five thousand pairs of eyes are glued to the ball sailing toward the end zone. We all hold a collective breath, everyone frozen in place. For a moment, it looks as though it’s going in. Cheers start breaking out from the stands behind me, but it’s only at the last second that its trajectory becomes clear.

It goes a foot wide.

Allbreck miss the conversion.

Beaufort wins.

Time stops, everyone around me disappears, and all I can see is his face. That furrowed brow smooths out and a grin bursts across his expression when he realizes they’ve done it. It’s not until my face starts to hurt that I know I’ve been smiling with him.

His head starts whipping around, his body turning like he’s searching for something. It jolts to a stop as he comes to face me, and there’s a long second when I think that he can see right through the mask, his stare burning into my eyes. I almost move toward him, hypnotized. I make it half a step before the moment is broken as a large body crashes into him, yanking him into a hug.

Before long, he’s surrounded by a flurry of blue as his teammates gather to celebrate. I can barely see him through the showers of confetti and what feels like hundreds of people who’ve rushed onto the field. It’s a good thing I’m firmly hidden inside the costume because I don’t think it’d go down well to have the Allbreck mascot grinning like a fool watching the Beaufort team hoisting the cup. I can’t help it.

For all that I’m mad at him, for all that he broke my heart, I’m so happy for him. He’s worked so hard for this moment, and nobody deserves it more.

The crowd around him intensifies, and I lose sight of him as everyone tries to get in a hug or a backslap. I’m frozen to the spot, so much so that I barely notice the people around me slowly filing away. One of the Allbreck players knocks into me as he goes, and I see the shattered expression as he realizes that for the first time in six years, Allbreck aren’t going to the playoffs. I should feel bad for him. I want to, but I can’t feel anything but elation.

Later, I’m sure I’ll feel worse for having seen him, especially seeing him so happy with the team that he chose over me, but for now, I’m just proud.

I turn to go, ready to get this costume off, when I pause. Somewhere over the crowd, I can hear someone yelling my name.

“Ruth!”

I wonder if I’ve imagined it and go to keep walking, when a hand wraps around my forearm. I spin, ready to punch whoever it is in the throat-I am not getting hoisted into the back of a van by these assholes again-when familiar blue eyes stop me in my tracks.

“Ruth.” His expression is tortured, his face twisted up as he takes a slow step toward me, like he’s worried I’ll spook.

He looks good, he’ll always be so beautiful it kind of hurts to look at. But there’s something about him that looks hollowed out, like someone’s taken a melon baller to his chest.

I guess we match that way.

“Hi,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. He doesn’t react, and I realize there’s no way he’ll be able to hear me, not through the mask or over the crowd. This is probably the worst possible place to do this, but that doesn’t stop him.

“I, um,” he clears his throat, “I wanted to see you.”

I make a gesture as if to say, here I am.

“Fuck, this is not how I wanted to do this,” he mutters. “I guess I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry Ruth, you have no idea how much. I was so stupid and such a coward, and I’ll regret the way I hurt you for the rest of my life, but you gotta know that it’s got nothing to do with you. I was never embarrassed of you. I never wanted to hide it. I was just so fuckin’ scared of losing the team. I thought that if they knew I was with someone from Allbreck, that they would think I was betraying them, or that people would think I was just like Simmons. But I was wrong. I told them everything and they couldn’t have cared less.”

I try to absorb his words. Hearing his reasons, and that he’s told his friends about us, goes a tiny way to healing the damage he caused, but it’s not enough. What he did crushed me, and I never want to put myself back in that position.

“But even if they had cared, I’d have chosen you. I’ll choose you every damn time. I just, God, Ruth, I can’t believe how badly I fucked things up, but I have to at least try. I’m begging you to let me try and make it up to you. I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m so fuckin’ in love with you that I’m gonna ask for one anyway because I don’t think I can live without you.”

I step back at his words, feeling knocked off balance. He loves me?

Rowan follows, not letting me widen the space between us. His hands come to shoulders, cupping them through the thick fabric, his touch easy enough that it would take no effort to break away if I wanted to.

“I love you, Ruth, so God damn much. It fuckin’ kills me. You’re the only person who never wants anything from me and it drives me crazy. I want you to ask me for things. I want to drive over in the middle of the night and do random shit for you. I know you don’t need to be taken care of, and I love that about you, but I want to do it anyway, just because you let me.”

I can’t think around his words, but he doesn’t stop. He steps closer until there’s no space between us. His touch comes up to cradle my face, and I want to rip off this stupid toad head. I’m so desperate to feel his fingertips on my skin. I manage to hold back though, knowing if I remove the head, I’ll get fired as Gunther. So instead I stand mutely, only allowing myself the indulgence of returning his touch, holding him around the waist as best I can.

“You’re not too much, not ever. I wish you were more, that I could have more, because every piece of you is precious, and I want every bit I can get my hands on. You make me greedy, Ruth. I need all of you for myself, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

A whimper escapes me, and I pull him closer. His head dips until his forehead rests against the mask, and at this distance, maybe he’ll be able to hear me. I have to almost yell, “You love me?”

He smiles, one of his rare smiles wide enough to see his slightly crooked front molar. “Yeah,” he says, “like, a lot.”

“I love you too!” I’ve said it before I’ve even fully registered it. The declaration shocks me as much as it seems to shock him. I hadn’t realized it until this moment, but I’m so in love with this man. I think I have been for a while, but I’ve spent so much time trying to feel less, to be less, worried that other people won’t ever feel the same way about me, that I haven’t recognized it for what it is.

“You’re it for me, Ruth. You’re always gonna be my favorite, my first choice. You’re fuckin’ everything to me, and I swear to God, I’ll never give you a reason to regret this.”

I can’t speak through the tears that have started to stream down my face, so I try to show him with the force of my embrace how much I believe him. He whoops joyfully, a sound not even matched by the cheers and hollers of victory still ringing around us. One second my feet are planted on the turf and the next, I’m up, Rowan hoisting me against him so he can spin me in a circle.

When he finally drops me back to standing, I catch the Jumbotron behind us, our bodies plastered across the screen. I can’t help the burst of laughter as I see the image of Rowan, so handsome in his uniform, hair tousled from the helmet, looking down, with all the love in the world, at a giant foam toad. He turns at the sound and looks where I’m pointing, groaning as he sees what I’m seeing. Visible behind us in the picture are Rowan’s teammates, hooting and whistling as they watch the action unfolding.

Rowan groans. “I’m gonna be a fuckin’ meme, aren’t I?”

“Probably.” I giggle. “At least your butt looks great.”