Page 7

Aster

I checked my watch for the fifth time in as many minutes, mentally ticking through the extensive checklist I'd created for today's mascot meet and greet. Setting up an event with all four of Charlotte's major sports mascots in one place was like herding extremely enthusiastic, oversized wild animals, and doing it at the Super Bowl only amplified the stress.

“Clutch, can you please stay on your mark?”

I called out, watching as Ryan, who was dressed in the Crossbills’ bright red bird mascot deliberately moonwalk away from his designated spot in the stadium's fan experience zone. Even though I couldn’t see his face, I could tell he was smiling beneath the giant beak. “The kids will be here any minute, and if you’re all bunched together, some of them might not get to meet you.”

Clutch gave me an exaggerated salute before spinning dramatically back to his position. I couldn't help but smile because Ryan was especially energetic today, knowing his team would be on the field in just a few hours.

I glanced around the large fan zone we'd transformed for the event. Each mascot had their own station decorated in team colors, carefully designed based on the developmental research I'd been immersed in during my master's program. The layout wasn't random – I'd deliberately structured the space to create what my professors called “optimal engagement zones”

for different age groups.

Clutch's area featured the Crossbills' red and white, with football-themed games specifically selected to promote gross motor skills in the 5-7 age bracket. Next to him, Catty from the Carolina Catfish posed beside a blue backdrop with baseball equipment, surrounded by activities that encouraged hand-eye coordination. The enormous blue catfish with his oversized whiskers was positioned near a small wading pool filled with plastic baseballs – a sensory activity for the younger children that my thesis had demonstrated improved focus and engagement.

Duke Dribbleton, the basketball mascot, was practicing trick shots with a small foam hoop in a space designed for cooperative play – another key element from my research on social development. And Chilly the Chinchilla lounged against a mock hockey goal, cool as ever in his silver and blue outfit, in a quieter zone I'd created for children who might feel overwhelmed by the stimulation elsewhere.

“Ms. Paige?”

A stadium coordinator approached me. “The first group of VIP families will be arriving in about five minutes.”

“Perfect, thank you.”

I gave her a reassuring smile. “Could you make sure the photo stations are fully staffed? And double-check that we have enough team swag bags ready?”

As she hurried off, I heard an excited voice call out from behind me.

“Please tell me that's a sensory pool with those baseballs! Genius move!”

I turned to find a strikingly beautiful blonde woman with bright blue eyes and an even brighter blue Catfish cap on. She was wearing torn jeans, Converse sneakers, and a Carolina Catfish hoodie that was at least two sizes too big for her frame.

“You must be Aster,”

she said, bouncing slightly on her toes as she extended her hand. “I'm Cali Sorenson, Fan Engagement Manager for the Catfish. And can I just say, this setup is epic!”

I shook her hand, immediately sensing an energy that matched the vibrant atmosphere we were trying to create. “It's wonderful to finally meet you in person. I've heard amazing things about your program initiatives.”

“Please, it's all just fancy words for 'let's make sports super fun for the tiniest humans,'“ she said with a laugh, spinning in a circle to take in the whole setup. “But seriously, this layout is awesome! The way you've got each zone set up—it's like you've got a direct line to kid brains.”

“It's actually based on my master's research in childhood development,”

I explained, warmed by her enthusiasm. “I studied how characters from Evermore movies and mascots can serve as transitional objects in unfamiliar environments.”

“Wait a minute, are you telling me you did a whole master's degree on mascots?”

Cali's eyes widened with delight. “I think I may have found someone more obsessed with mascots than me,”

she barked out a laugh and I wasn’t sure if she was laughing at me, or with me. “Honestly, that’s the coolest thing I've ever heard! I've been trying to tell our analytics team that mascots are psychological geniuses, not just oversized plushies!” She mimed an explosion from her head. “Mind blown!”

With. Definitely with me.

I laughed, feeling instantly at ease with her. “Most of my professors thought I was crazy, but the research actually showed that children engage more deeply when their developmental needs are considered in the environment design.”

“Hence the quiet zone for Chilly,”

Cali nodded, suddenly serious despite her playful demeanor. “I noticed that right away. My nephew's on the spectrum and he'd appreciate that so much.”

Then, just as quickly, her energy bounced back. “My twins are going to lose their minds when they see all this! They're already obsessed with Catty.”

“You have twins?”

I asked, thinking immediately of Georgia and Delaney.

“Yep! Four-year-old girls with the energy of nuclear reactors,”

she said, pulling out her phone to show me a photo of two identical girls making silly faces with Catty at what looked like a baseball game. “They're in the family zone right now, probably terrorizing my brother who’s watching them. I should probably rescue the poor soul and bring them here before everyone else arrives.”

“That's a great idea,”

I said, genuinely enjoying her presence. “Twins have such a unique bond. I actually did a small case study on twin interaction patterns for one of my developmental psychology courses.”

“Do you have twins too?”

she asked, tucking her phone back in her pocket.

I shook my head. “No, but my good friend has twins. And triplets, actually.”

Cali's jaw dropped. “Twins and triplets? Holy catfish!”

She slapped a hand over her heart dramatically. “God bless that woman! I can barely keep my two from turning my house into a disaster zone. Five kids? She must be secretly superhuman.”

“She's amazing,”

I agreed, thinking of how effortlessly Reign seemed to manage her chaotic household. “It's pretty incredible to watch.”

Cali hopped up to sit on a nearby table, swinging her legs. “You know what would be incredible to watch? All the Carolina mascots doing a TikTok dance battle! Can you imagine?”

She gestured wildly toward the mascots. “Catty's already got some moves, but I bet Clutch could bring it. Social media would explode!”

I laughed at the mental image. “That would definitely get some attention.”

“Beyond attention,”

she said, eyes sparkling with ideas. “Which actually makes me think—we should do more joint Charlotte fundraisers like this. Combine forces, take over the world, one cute kid interaction at a time!”

“I was thinking something similar,”

I said, excited by her enthusiasm. “My research actually included a section on cross-organizational programming and its impact on community engagement.”

“See? Science backs me up!”

Cali pumped her fist in the air. “Quarterly events? Maybe each season we feature a different sport? Summer with the Catfish. We could do a reading program where kids get baseball cards for finishing books!”

“Fall fitness with the Crossbills,”

I continued, caught up in her energy.

“Winter hockey clinics with Chilly teaching kids to literally chill out with yoga!”

“And a spring basketball tournament with Duke,”

I finished, already seeing the possibilities. “It would give kids exposure to multiple sports while pooling our resources.”

“Plus,”

Cali added, jumping down from the table, “it would be ridiculously fun! And isn't that what this is all about?”

She gestured to the Super Bowl fan zone around us. “Creating memories that stick with these kids forever?”

“Exactly,”

I said, feeling like I'd found a kindred spirit in this whirlwind of a woman.

“It's settled then,”

she declared. “Carolina Mascot Takeover, coming to a season near you! We'll hash out the boring details later, but I'm in if you are?”

“I'm definitely in.”

“Perfect!”

She glanced at her watch. “Right. I'd better grab my mini-monsters before they break something or someone. But this conversation? To be continued with coffee or margaritas, your choice!”

As she bounced away toward the family area, I couldn't help but smile. Her energy was infectious, and I could already imagine what we might accomplish together.

I did one final check of each station. Clutch was now practicing his victory dance, wings flapping enthusiastically as if already celebrating a Crossbills win. Catty was swishing his large tail fin, ready to give high-fives with his fins to all the excited kids. Duke had finally stopped trying to balance things on Catty's head and was now adjusting his oversized basketball shoes. Chilly was perfecting his cool pose by the hockey net. Everything was ready.

Just as the doors were about to open, my phone buzzed with a message from Tanner:

Tanner: Would you have time to meet before the game? Need my pre-game kiss.

I smiled, tucking the phone away as the first wave of excited children poured into the area, their faces lighting up at the sight of their beloved mascots. Tanner would get his pre-game kiss. He had to. It was tradition. Not kissing him on the most important game of his career would be blasphemous.

Aster: Always. Will try to get there in the next thirty minutes.

Tanner was probably locked in and focused right now. I had no doubts he’d win tonight. He was just too determined not to, but I also knew that after starting in the NFL, he’d become highly superstitious and I didn’t want to jinx him.

When the event went into full swing, I watched the scene unfold, pride swelling in my chest at what we'd created here today. My thesis advisor would be amazed to see how far I'd taken those theoretical frameworks we'd discussed in her office late into the evenings. From academic papers to the Super Bowl. Not bad for a girl who had to explain the difference between a mascot and a furry.

I found a moment to slip away toward the back of the room. The volunteers had everything under control, and Cali had returned with her twins, who were racing from one mascot to the next, their excitement seemingly amplified by their mother's equally enthusiastic commentary. She really did have a close relationship with Catty, but I supposed that made sense if she was always running their fundraisers.

Today was going to be a fun day, that was for sure.

When I got to the locker room, I smoothed my hands over my Crossbills jersey, the one with my boyfriend’s number embroidered across the back and took a deep breath before greeting the security guard, Allen, as I pushed open the locker room door.

Everyone knew me as Tanner’s girlfriend at this point, but I was excited to build my own legacy with my job. Eight months in and I was absolutely loving it.

The locker room was full of people. Equipment managers darted between players. Coaches huddled in corners, going over last-minute strategies, and players had family members wishing them luck.

The air smelled of athletic tape, deodorant and that distinct pre-game electricity that made the hair on my arms stand up.

I spotted Tanner across the room, deep in conversation with one of the water boys. He was a gangly teenager who looked at my boyfriend with undisguised hero worship. I couldn't blame the kid. Tanner in his element was something to behold.

The grit, the sheer strength in determination it took to not only compete at this level of sport, but to push through to the point of reaching the Super Bowl was something I didn’t think would happen, let alone within five years of being in the league.

“Hey,”

Tanner said, his face lighting up as I approached. “I didn't think you'd make it down here before warmups.”

“The mascots are settled in,”

I explained, straightening his already perfectly straight collar. “And I couldn’t not see you before... everything.”

His eyes were bright but distracted, that game-day focus had already settled over him. I'd seen the transformation from my sweet, tender-hearted Tanner into the focused athlete the world knew as number 16 countless times.

“You okay?”

I asked softly, recognizing the slight tension in his jaw.

“Yeah,”

he nodded, his hands finding my waist, steadying himself as much as connecting with me. “Just the usual pre-game jitters. Nothing to worry about.”

I wasn't entirely convinced. There was something different about him today and I could only assume it was the immense pressure of the Super Bowl and having his family and mine there, but I wasn’t going to press him.

“Well, I just came to give you this,”

I said, rising on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. I kept it brief since we had an audience, but I poured everything into it. Love. Pride. Belief.

When I pulled back, his eyes were clearer, more present.

“What was that for?”

he asked, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“For luck,”

I replied, smoothing my hands over his broad shoulders. “Not that you need it. You and Devin are going to be amazing out there.”

At the mention of his teammate, we both glanced across the room where Devin stood with his head bowed, going through his usual pre-game ritual. No family. No talk. Nothing. Just his headphones and his thoughts.

“I should go,”

I said, suddenly aware of the time. “You need to focus, and I need to make sure my parents haven't gotten lost in the stadium.”

Tanner nodded, but his hands tightened briefly on my waist. “Hey, Aster?”

“Yeah?”

He paused with something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “After the game... there's something I want to talk to you about.”

My stomach did a curious little flip. “Good something or bad something?”

The smile that spread across his face made my heart stutter. “Good. Definitely good.”

“Then I can't wait,”

I said, pressing one more quick kiss to his lips before stepping back. “Go be great. “

As I turned to leave, Tanner’s coach caught my eye from across the room and raised his clipboard in acknowledgment. I gave him a small wave back. He’d always been good to me, making sure I felt welcome at team functions despite my status as “just a girlfriend.”

He'd been the one to recommend me for the development program position two years ago, seeing potential in me that I hadn't fully recognized in myself.

With one last glance at Tanner, already being pulled back into the pre-game preparations, I slipped out of the locker room and made my way through the labyrinthine corridors of the stadium.

The atmosphere changed the moment I stepped out into the public areas—the subdued professionalism of the team zone giving way to the electric buzz of 70,000 fans preparing for the biggest game of the year. The corridors teemed with excited spectators decked out in team colors, their voices creating a constant din that echoed off the concrete walls.

I checked my phone, finding a text from my mom.

Mom: We're at the escalators near section 215. Looking forward to seeing you, sweetheart.

I made my way toward them, threading through the crowd with practiced ease. Stadium navigation had become second nature over the years. As I rounded the corner near the VIP elevator bank, I nearly collided with a familiar face.

“Aster!”

Reign exclaimed, barely managing to keep her balance while corralling what appeared to be at least three of her children. “Thank God, another adult! Have you seen Chloe? She was supposed to meet me here with the other two.”

“Sorry, I haven't,”

I said, quickly counting the kids. Only three of the five Walker children were clustered around her legs. “Lost half the brood already?”

“Don't joke,”

she groaned, though a smile played at her lips. “Devin will kill me if I lose any of his progeny on the biggest day of his career.”

Delaney, the oldest of the twins, looked up at me with a bright smile. “Aunt Aster! Are you going to sit with us?”

I crouched down to her level, returning her smile. “I'll be in the box next door with Uncle Tanner's family. But I bet we can visit each other during the game.”

“Did you see Daddy and Uncle Tanner?”

Georgia asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

“I did. They're getting ready to play the biggest game of their lives,”

I told her, straightening up as I spotted Chloe emerging from the crowd with the remaining two Walker children in tow.

“Crisis averted,”

I said to Reign, nodding toward Chloe.

Relief washed over her face. “Thank heavens. We'd better get up to the box before the introductions start. See you up there?”

“I'll be right behind you,”

I promised, giving the kids one more wave before continuing my search for my parents.

I found them exactly where my mother had said, my father looking mildly uncomfortable in his brand-new Crossbills jersey while my mother chatted animatedly with an older couple in Rattlesnakes gear.

“There she is!”

Mom called as she spotted me, waving enthusiastically as if I might miss her in the crowd. “We were just talking about you.”

I kissed her cheek, then my father's, before turning to the other couple. “I hope she was telling you all good things.”

“Only the best,”

the woman assured me with a warm smile.

As we made our way to the private box level, the stadium screens began showing the pre-game festivities. There were cuts of celebrities, highlights from both teams' seasons with dramatic music building the anticipation for kick off.

My stomach tightened with nerves as though I was the one about to play in front of millions. It was always like this before Tanner's games. The vicarious anxiety, the helpless knowledge that I could do nothing but watch and hope he stayed safe.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

Dad asked, his weathered hand finding my shoulder. “You look a little pale.”

I nodded, giving him a tight smile. “Just nervous for Tanner.”

“He'll be fine,”

Dad assured me. “That boy was born for games like this.”

We reached the private box level just as the announcer's voice boomed through the stadium, introducing the first of the Rattlesnakes players. I quickened my pace, not wanting to miss Tanner's moment.

The private box was already crowded when we entered with Tanner’s entire family there. Cousins, uncles, grandparents, and there were a few people I hadn’t met before. I immediately spotted Thea and Jackson near the front row of seats, Thea's sleek professional outfit contrasting with Jackson's slightly uncomfortable-looking suit.

“Aster!”

Thea exclaimed, breaking away from her conversation to embrace me. “Just in time! They're about to announce the Crossbills.”

I introduced my parents quickly, then followed Thea to the glass front of the box where we could see the field clearly. Jackson was engaged in what appeared to be an overly enthusiastic conversation with Tanner's father, his hands gestured wildly as he described something that had Mr. Joyce nodding politely.

“Is he okay?”

I whispered to Thea, nodding toward Jackson.

She rolled her eyes, though fondness softened her expression. “He's terrified of my dad. Always has been. Something about him being a 'real man's man' or whatever. So he compensates by being... extra Jackson.”

I stifled a laugh, recognizing the truth in her assessment, watching our friend fumble over his words.

“And now,”

the announcer's voice boomed, “your Charlotte Crossbills!”

The stadium erupted as spotlight beams crisscrossed the darkened field. One by one, the starting lineup was announced, each player running through a tunnel of smoke and fire to thunderous applause.

“Devin Walker, Defense.”

the announcer called, and the crowd's roar intensified as Devin sprinted onto the field, arms raised in acknowledgment.

My heart hammered in anticipation as the rest of the defensive team were announced. Then came the offense. It was only after every other player had entered the field that I knew it was time for him.

“Tanner Joyce. Quarterback.”

The crowd erupted at his name, and there he was. My Tanner, racing through the tunnel, his powerful frame cutting through the artificial smoke as 70,000 people cheered. In that moment, watching him take his place on the field, I was struck by how far we'd come when he first insulted me in the library at Covey U.

Back then I just thought he was an arrogant jock with a chip on his shoulders who’s reading skills didn’t match his athletic prowess. I vowed never to help him, yet, here we are, seven years later. Together. It felt surreal, watching the man I loved commanding the attention of millions and on the biggest stage possible.

This is it, I thought, a lump forming in my throat. This is everything.

“He looks good out there,”

my mother murmured beside me, slipping her arm through mine.

“He does,”

I agreed, unable to tear my eyes away from Tanner as he jogged to the sideline, helmet tucked under his arm.

The National Anthem began, and we all stood, hands over hearts. I barely heard the singer, my mind racing with the magnitude of the day.

As the anthem concluded and the crowd erupted once more, my mother leaned close. “You know, your father and I were talking on the drive here. We wouldn't be surprised if Tanner has something special planned for today.”

I turned to her with furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”

Her knowing smile made my stomach flip. “Just a feeling,”

she said with a shrug that wasn't nearly as casual as she intended. “Big game, both families here, that boy looking at you like you hung the moon... it adds up.”

“Mom,”

I said, heat rising to my cheeks. “Don't start with that again. We're doing fine just as we are.”

She patted my hand, that infuriating maternal smugness still playing at her lips. “Of course you are, dear. I'm just saying, your father has his speech prepared, just in case.”

“What speech?”

I asked, alarmed.

“His father-of-the-bride speech,”

she replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He's been working on it for about four years now.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Please tell me you're joking.”

“Would I joke about something this important?”

she asked, the picture of innocence.

Before I could form a response, the whistle blew for kick off, and the game began. I silently thanked the football gods for the timely interruption, turning my attention firmly to the field.

As the first quarter progressed, I found myself falling into the familiar rhythm of explaining plays to my mother, who despite years attending Tanner's games, still seemed unable to grasp the basic rules of football.

“So that's good, right?”

she asked as Tanner completed a long pass down the sideline. “They're moving toward the... scoring end?”

“The end zone, Mom,”

I corrected, hiding my smile. “And yes, that's good. If they can get inside the twenty—that's called the red zone—they have a good chance of scoring.”

She nodded, satisfied with this explanation, then immediately gasped when Tanner’s receiver caught a short pass and was tackled hard by two defenders.

“Oh! Is he hurt? That looked painful,”

she fretted, clutching my arm.

“He's fine,”

I assured her, even as my own heart rate spiked watching him get to his feet. “That's just part of the game.”

As the quarter continued, I found my gaze drifting occasionally from the field to the faces around me—Tanner's mom watching with the stoic pride of people who'd spent their lives in sports; Thea alternating between professional commentary for her podcast and genuine excitement for her brother; Jackson still trying too hard to impress Mr. Joyce with his football knowledge.

In the next box over, I could see the Walker family—the kids jumping and cheering at every play, Reign looking both proud and terrified whenever Devin took a hit.

We were all connected by this moment, this game, these men we loved. No matter what happened on the field today, I knew one thing for certain: we were incredibly lucky to be part of this strange, wonderful extended family that had grown from those days at Covey.