We’re still down by five, which means nothing but a touchdown is gonna do it. Burke gives me a nod, and I return it, grateful that even with Sanchez continuing to be useless and Devlin suspect at best, the win remains possible. We line up again, and at the snap Burke takes off like a shot, hands at the ready, and I let the ball soar. He nabs it from the air and cradles it to his body like he’s protecting a baby from an explosion, which isn’t all that far off given the hit he takes. But it’s a first down, again, and suddenly, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we are going to win this game.

And after another completion—reluctant credit to Devlin for that one—and another play that brings us so close, I can practically lick the end zone, I run it in.

And we win.

We win this impossible fucking game and I can finally breathe.

Holy shit.

A body slams into me and my first thought is that Sanchez and Devlin are about to kick my ass in front of everybody, but it’s Santiago, and then it’s Burke, and then Barnes, and oh God this is what it feels like to be on a team.

Shit, I might be crying.

The crowd is going absolutely bananas, and I pick out my family and friends and find they’re all on their feet, even Jeremy and Jason, and it feels like everything is forgiven right now even if it won’t be tomorrow. And it feels so good, I don’t want anything in my life to be broken anymore. I want to talk to Amber. I want to work shit out even if it means two more years of hiding in her room and dates nowhere but at Gutter Kittens.

I turn to catch her eye, to smile, to try to mouth a request to talk later, but all I get in response is a smirk. And then she and a couple of the other cheerleaders break away from the squad and come to stand about six feet away from the bench.

“Ready, steady, go!” she yells, and all eyes turn to her, including the majority of the squad left behind, who clearly have no idea what’s going on. The three of them—Amber, Crystal, and Nia, I see now—do a bunch of funky dance moves while the crowd cheers, and it ends with them lifting her up, a tiny pyramid of three with Ella Chow backspotting. (Insert a self-pat on the back for teaching myself a little about cheerleading.) Even without a megaphone, we can clearly hear her yell “Home-C-O-M-I-N-G!”

“Home-C-O-M-I-N-G!” Crystal, Nia, and Ella echo back.

“Home-C-O-M-I-N-G!” Amber repeats, pom-poms waving in the air. “Home-C-O-M-I-N-G! Jack Walsh, will you go with me?”

Silence.