We all finish getting into our uniforms and listen to our coach give one last rousing speech about how much he’s enjoyed coaching us and how it’s the seniors’ last game. How he’s watched us all grow and how hungry we are for this win.

We’re all pumped up as we head out of the locker-room, Kingston shooting me a wink as he pulls his black helmet on his head. I pull mine on too, and we run outside. My chest expands with pride, watching my team flood the field and listening to the home crowd cheering for us.

Some hold signs with my jersey number, and some have the other team members’ numbers. It’s a beautiful sight of black and red in the stands with the scoreboard lit up and ready. The lights illuminate the field, and our opponents run outside, no doubt feeling the tension in the air.

It’s the last game of the season for all of us.

The last game forever for some of us.

I think about my first time on a field like this one, shaking like a leaf with all eyes on us, not knowing what the hell I was doing. Listening to my mom tell me in my head that I should just have fun but wondering if maybe my dad would be proud if I do well.

We lost. All of us ran around aimlessly. Kingston giggled and played his heart out but had a blast. His grandparents were in the stands with his parents cheering him on. My dad couldn’t be bothered to show.

He left not too long after that.

Not that a peewee football game had anything to do with it, but I don’t know. Maybe it made me push harder after that. I wanted to have fun like Kingston and the other guys, but I had something to prove too.

I needed to be the best.

And when I throw a pass deep downfield straight into Kingston’s arms right before he gets tackled oh, so close to the goal, I feel like I’m on a high, knowing we have two more plays to get ten yards. Knowing we’re going to score.

I feel like a king out here.

That’s the truth. When Oakley runs it in for a touchdown next, I cheer with the rest of the crowd and ride that high.

Our last game is almost over.

High school is almost over.

And okay, yeah, I guess out here in the cool night air, watching my breath puff from my mouth, I do feel nostalgic.

This is part of the town, part of this life I’ll miss.

Because it’s really the only time I can feel free.

That—and now, when I kiss Kingston.

It feels like flying in a way I’ve never experienced before.

And God help me, I don’t want it to end.

21. Kingston

TWENTY-ONE

KINGSTON