Page 44 of Hard Count (Newhouse University #4)

DREW

CHAMPIONSHIP GAME

The Texas marching band plays their fight song as their team celebrates another touchdown on the field and the crowd on the other side of the stadium sings and dances along. I can’t stomach looking at the jumbotron and watching all of their happy faces.

Frankie and I are sitting in the front row on the away side of the stadium directly behind the team bench. They’re the perfect seats to catch all the action on the field but it comes with a price. You have to bear witness to the defeat on our guys’ faces every time Texas scores.

It takes everything I have in me to keep smiling and not slump down in my seat like everyone else.

I don't want Nash to see me look anything but happy and excited while the game clock is still running. We’re only down by two touchdowns and haven’t even made it to the two minute timeout to end the second quarter.

I know we're capable of making a run and coming back.

The only problem is the Texas defense. They’ve either been on top of Nash or one step ahead of him for every play.

“That was bad, right?” Frankie asks when the Texas defense cuts off Adrian’s run causing us to lose two yards.

“It wasn’t great,” I grumble. How do they know? What are they seeing that I don’t? I step out into the aisle and walk up several rows to watch the next few plays. Nash gets the ball into Lucas’s hands a few times and moves the ball within field goal range but I don’t notice anything unusual.

Since we’re out of downs we have no choice but to kick. Getting a field goal gets us points, but it’s the frustration on Nash’s face that hits me the hardest. He can’t let them get into his head. Every play is a new opportunity to make something happen. He needs to remember that.

I glance a few rows behind me where the rest of his family’s sitting.

They look as worried as I feel. Evelyn tries to smile at me but we both know what this game means to Nash.

He wanted to leave Newhouse a champion and be a part of the legacy here.

The last few playoff rounds weren’t easy either.

We had to fight for every point but Nash was able to read the defense a lot easier.

For some reason, it’s not happening tonight.

There’s only five minutes left in the half. If our defense can hold them and leave us with enough time on the clock to make something happen, that would be ideal .

“Maybe we should do something to take our mind off the game,” Frankie suggests when I come back to my seat.

“Like what? We’ve already eaten everything they sell here in the first quarter.

I don’t think my stomach could handle anything more than a breath mint at this point.

” I turn my bracelet around my wrist and cover my thumb over my newly upgraded tattoo.

I got it done a few weeks ago as a late birthday present to myself.

Frankie digs into her purse and fishes out a pack of mints. “Here, take a few. We’ll want to be fresh for our victory kiss. How’s that for a positive attitude?”

“I’m sure Eli will appreciate your thoughtfulness to not taste like a bottle of Tabasco sauce,” I snark.

“For your information, he doesn’t care.” She bumps her hip against mine. She breathes into her hand before popping another mint. I chuckle silently and turn my attention back to the game.

We’re down to the last two minutes. Not great but not terrible. Texas is third and seven on their forty-five yard line. I hope the guys remember what I told them. Texas is going to either run a slant route down the right side or throw deep near the sideline in case they want to stop the clock.

“Come on, Trey. Follow the ball and make the play.”

“I don’t like that guy very much. Eli told me what he said about you.” Frankie turns her nose up in disgust.

“He doesn’t think before he speaks but he’s a good cornerback.

If he can control his mouth the way he can control the ball, he might make it in the pros one day.

” There haven’t been any more altercations with him since the last incident at practice and Nash said what he needed to.

It’s possible my dad said something, too, but I doubt he even found out.

The Texas quarterback steps back in the pocket and fakes a handoff to his running back.

I place a hand over my chest. I can’t breathe.

He has a receiver on both sides of the field.

Does he see Trey trailing the one on the right?

He’s more comfortable and accurate on this side of the field so I’ve told Trey to head there first unless his instincts tell him otherwise.

The ball flies through the air and just as it’s about to land in the hands of their receiver, Trey cuts in front and snags the ball. “Get out of bounds! Get out of bounds!” I yell. Not that it matters. He can’t hear me but we need to stop the clock.

“Okay fine. He can stay but it’s his funeral if he says something about me in front of Eli.”

“I don’t think anyone is that stupid,” I remark.

My dad gives Nash a final talk before he runs onto the field. We only have about sixty seconds to make something happen. Dad paces the sideline, his eyes meeting mine briefly. He smiles and nods before turning his attention back to the game. “I wish I knew what their plan was,” I murmur.

“Didn’t you help make the plan?” Frankie asks.

“I did but the plan needs to change when the other team is also in on the plan.” I stare at the jumbotron and watch the defense as they move around on the field. Every play it’s like a game of musical chairs trying to confuse Nash. It’s almost comical .

After the second failed run play, there's only enough time on the clock for one play. He has no other choice but to throw it to the end zone. The Texas defense plays their little game of moving around. Once the ball is snapped, our offensive line allows Nash enough time to get the ball thrown but there isn’t anyone open.

He needs to run it himself. There’s not enough time to wait for someone down field.

“Come on, Nash. Move. Make the play.” He dodges a sack and runs down the right sideline. I grab Frankie’s arm when he reaches their twenty yard line.

“Oh my god. Oh my god!” she screams. I don’t know if she’s yelling at Nash running or at me for squeezing her so tight.

I hold my breath as he makes it to the fifteen yard line and then the ten. He’s close but so is one of their defensive tackles. He’s going to have to make a choice to go for it and risk getting hit or let them chase him out of bounds.

He keeps running with the enemy at his heels. “Damn it,” I curse, when Nash gets pushed out of bounds at the five yard line. There’s nothing we can do now but regroup during halftime. Nash’s face is blank as he trails behind his team to the locker room. He’s taking that last play personally.

“I’m going to go see him,” I say, to Frankie. “Are you coming with me or staying?”

“Can we go back there? Don’t we need a backstage pass or something?” She trails behind me as I descend the stairs to the field.

“Probably but I’m also a Prescott and this is an emergency. ”

I’m not sure where to go but I figure the tunnel blocked off by several security guards is the best place to start.

“Let me do the talking,” I whisper to Frankie.

These guards are chomping at the bit to send us on our way.

I’m sure we’re not the only set of pretty girls trying to make their way to the locker room.

“Can we help you?” the guard on the right asks.

Frankie loops her arm in mine. “We’re with the band.”

“Frankie.” I shake my arm free and glare at her.

“Sorry. I always wanted to say that.”

“I’m Drew Prescott. I need to see my dad, Coach Prescott of Newhouse University. It’s an emergency.”

Frankie sways toward me and whispers, “oh, yes, that’s much better.”

The guards barely acknowledge me or my request. One of them gets on their radio they have attached to their bulletproof vest. I would ask Frankie how I should act to fake an emergency but I’m afraid she’ll suddenly pretend to have a broken leg or something.

“Roger that,” the second guard says. “Third door on the right.” He steps to the side and allows us through.

“Thank you.” I grab Frankie’s arm. “Come on. We don’t have a lot of time left.” My heart is beating hard against my chest with a need to see Nash. I don’t even bother knocking on the door. I whip it open and charge through like a bull.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I say. Now that I’m here I don’t know what I’m going to do. Nash peeks his head around a wall of wooden locker cubbies as if my voice is a siren calling to him .

My dad places a hand on his shoulder when he walks toward me. “Five minutes,” he says. Nash nods in agreement and silently escorts me down a hallway.

“Are you here for moral support or does she belong to one of you?” my dad asks, his voice echoing down the hall.

“She’s mine,” I hear Eli say before Nash pulls me into a private room.

He removes his jersey and pads and then scoops me into his arms. His head drops to the crook of my neck and he takes a few calming breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he says against my skin.

I pull back and grab his face in my hands. “Yes, you do. This isn’t the first time the team’s had to make a comeback. You know what needs to be done. It’s already inside of you.”

He leans his head against mine and his hands move up and down my sides. “Not this time. They’re moving around too much. They know what I’m going to do as soon as we get set.”

I shuffle backwards, putting a small amount of space between us. “You need to catch them off guard. Put the play in motion before they’re ready and pull them offsides. Make your move when they’re least expecting it. A hard count is the only option.”

“Do you think it will work?”

I take his hands in mine and intertwine our fingers. “It worked on me. You called the plays and made me move. I may not have been ready but you had me falling in love with you anyway. ”