Page 129 of Scoring Eden

Holy shit.

Tears well in my eyes as I watch him, the man who once couldn’t talk about this to anyone, now tell an entire stadium and the nation watching at home.

“My parents died when I was ten. The same age as Macon here. I won’t go into the gritty details, but it was sudden, and my sister and I weren’t prepared for it. With no family in the state to take us in, we found ourselves on the steps of a children’s home, where we lived for two years until we were adopted by our now parents, Jack and Libby. They can’t be here with us tonight because their knees aren’t what they used to be, but I think we should all give them a hand for giving Brynn and me a second chance at a childhood.”

Applause thunders through the stadium once more.

“That isn’t to say that our time at the Poppy Fields Children’s Home was dark. There’s a lot of greatness that happens there. So much love given to children who need it the most, and I’m so grateful that that’s where we ended up, because I know kids who find themselves in other homes don’t always get the same experience.”

Brynn’s hand finds mine and squeezes. I glance at her and find her cheeks as tear-stained as my own.

“All of this to say that they really deserve the money we’re hoping to raise tonight. So, scan the QR code displayed on the big screens right now, and give what you can. I’ve got a boy here who really wants to be principal for the day, and I know you guys can make it happen.” He lowers the microphone, considers something, then raises it again. “And as a bonus, I’ll match whatever you raise.” The mic goes down then up again. “Within reason. I know Macon has collected himself a few fans up and down the country in the last couple of weeks, but I’m not a billionaire, y’know?”

There’s more laughter as he hands the mic back to Coach Carter and retakes his seat.

Macon steps up behind him, clippers in hand, his cheeks pink and a broad smile on his face. He makes the first pass, and a chunk of dark-blond hair falls to the turf. It’s over within fifteen minutes.

A barely recognizable Alex stands, takes Macon’s hand in his, and together, they take a bow.

Donations will be open until tomorrow night, so we won’t know until then how much has been raised, but given the cataclysmic level of applause, I have a good feeling Macon will have the school contest in the bag.

“What are you waiting for?” Brynn nudges me.

“What?”

“Yeah, E. What’s the hold up?” My sister mirrors Brynn’s action but with considerably more force that has me almost toppling over the barrier. “Go get your man.”

“Oh.” I shake my head. “This is their moment. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Aspen says.

Brynn, who has more tact than my sister, nods her head in Alex and Macon’s direction. “They’re waiting for you.”

I look across the grass, and sure enough, my first love and my newest love are both watching me intently. Alex holds out his hand, beckoning me to him, and I guess that’s all the motivation I need.

“Leo, help her over,” Brynn instructs, and two hands find my waist and hoist me over the barrier. “Now go.”

I don’t look back.

I run toward the two great loves of my life. I run toward the boy who made me who I am and the man who loves me for it. I run toward my future. My home. My happiness.

I run toward July.

TEXT THREAD BETWEEN ALEX AND DR. SHARMA

Dr. Sharma: Hey, Alex?

Alex: Yes, Doc?

Dr. Sharma: I’m proud of you.

EPILOGUE

Eden (8 months later)

“Alex, this is a terrible idea.” I squirm on top of the washing machine, the hem of my short skirt riding up my thighs. “Our family and friends are downstairs.”

Their laughter drifts through the closed door of the laundry room, reminding me that we’re hosting Thanksgiving. Or, at least, that we’re supposed to be hosting Thanksgiving, not fucking in the laundry room like we’ve done approximately seven hundred times since we moved in.