Sulking back into my chair, I take a moment to cool down. I think of Wyatt and how it would feel to be in his arms. Sighing, I lay my head back. I pretend not to be worried by the fact that Wyatt and I haven’t communicated today. I want to give him the space he needs to succeed. I know he wants the same for me, but simply put, I miss him.
“Oh no,” Raleigh says from beside me. It’s not a call of worry; instead, it’s playful. “Dalton!” She calls into the living room, “You better be switching that TV over to the LA game. Our girl is getting antsy to see her man.”
A grunt floats in, causing both of us to smile. Patting me on the shoulder, Raleigh finds my hand and we both go to the living room. The brightness of a late fall day in LA ignites the dour gray of my home, and my mood instantly picks up.
I don’t have to wait very long for them to show Wyatt on screen. Thankfully, the commentators don’t bring up the events of last night in their pregame talk, though I’m sure it was mentioned before and will be again.
***
By the end of the third quarter, snacks litter the coffee table and my nerves are shot, as if my house has been the site of a warzone. It’s been a fierce back-and-forth battle the entire game with barely any time for fans on either side to breathe. Watching the games in person has been a wonderful experience, but no one warned me what being comfy at home without any cameras could cause me to do.
Me, a 23-year-old woman, has Tom Cruised her way across the couch, thrown a bag of candy at the wall, and gotten downon my knees to pray for a successful field goal. Whoever I’m becoming, I kind of like her. She’s fun and full of energy and can’t remember why she was devastated this morning.
As the fourth quarter winds down, LA is able to get another quick field goal and then recover the ball as a Hail Mary throw comes down into the arms of the other team and is fumbled. As LA players smother the ball on the turf, the clock runs down, and the game is officially over.
The bench empties, and the camera cuts to Ben and Wyatt. Their pride radiates as they join their team on the field to celebrate. Overcome with joy for him and my found family in LA, I find myself reaching out toward the TV. Knowing I look like a fool, I draw my hand back and stare at the screen with a big, stupid grin.
When they cut back, Wyatt’s green eyes blaze into my soul. As a reporter starts his question, Ben launches himself at Wyatt, grabbing him in a bear hug. “Two more games!” Ben yells, “Two more games!”
“One at a time, buddy!” Wyatt calls after him, but Ben’s already gone off camera.
“Wyatt Lucas,” the man says for the 80th time. He steps closer to him and brings the mic closer; it must be insanely loud there. “What a day for you and the team! What do you have to say about today’s performance?”
Through his huge smile, Wyatt does his best to yell over the crowd, “You know, we came in wanting to make a statement. It was a little closer than what we would have liked, but I think everyone had us pinned as underdogs, so we’ll take this result and get ready for the semifinal.”
“You’ve got a lot of important people here watching you, friends and family, but is there anyone in particular you want to dedicate this win to today?” The man knows what he’s doing, but it doesn’t seem to bother Wyatt. I find that it doesn’t bother meeither. I want people to hear him talk about me. I want him to add flame to the fire of the idea of us.
Wyatt looks at the camera with an “oh what the hell” look on his face. “Mae, I’ll see you soon, baby girl!” He lifts his gloved hands toward the camera in the shape of a heart and I nearly fall over as the butterflies in my stomach erupt in flight.
“Baby girl?” Raleigh asks, fanning herself. She turns to her husband and laughs as she says, “Why don’t you have cute pet names for me?”
Dalton just gives her a stern look and then both of them burst out laughing. None of us could imagine anything like asweetheartor asweet cheekscoming out of his mouth. This imaginative scene even gets a chuckle out of me.
“I’m just kidding, husband of mine,” Raleigh says as she slides onto his lap. He wraps her up in his big bear arms, and the two of them share a kiss. The butterflies in my stomach all drop, and I immediately reach for my phone.
“Is it too soon to text him?” I ask the room as I stare at my screen.
“Never. Not with him!” Raleigh giggles, slipping from her husband's thighs. “But I would like to get a post out.”
Defensively, I hand her the phone and wrap my arms around my chest. “What do you have in mind?”
She doesn’t answer as she airdrops a few images from her phone and takes two seconds to throw the post up. Turning it toward me, I gasp at the photo. She’d caught me reaching for the TV at the exact moment they’d shown Wyatt looking up at the crowd, taking it all in. The black-and-white filter takes the desperate action and turns it into something artistic; it conveys the emotion I had been feeling so effortlessly. My eyes scroll down further, and I get caught on the caption.
Find your flicker of light.
Raleigh passes me with a smile as she goes for her coat. She peeks in from the kitchen once more before heading for the back door. “Love you, girly!” I blow her a kiss as she and her husband exit.
Laying my head back, I hit send on the drafted message to Wyatt and fall back against the coolness of the leather. I should let myself sleep. I never get to take a nap. Overtaken by the excitement of getting some extra shut-eye, I ask Alexa to turn my fan on and then almost immediately lose myself to its sweet white noise.
It’s early evening, and the other wildcard football game is nearing its end in the background as I awake from my nap. Looking down at my phone, I see that there are still no messages from Wyatt even though I texted him hours ago. I try to tamp down my nerves as I determine what to do next. Tapping my fingers against the leather of my couch, I last all of two seconds before reaching for my phone again.
Mae:I don’t know if you saw my last message…
I don’t get to finish typing my text because there’s a knock at the door. I tense up immediately before rationalizing that the only people who can get up here without permission are me, Raleigh, and Dalton. Standing on my tiptoes to look out the peephole, I’m ready to grab a broom for protection. The moment I see the man standing out there with a bouquet of flowers, I step back and swing the door open.
Chapter 27
Wyatt
