Page 112 of Kickoff

“It’s not.” She lifted the bag of food to just under my nose. “It is real, Mase. I grabbed this for you at the restaurant downstairs. Chicken breast, steamed broccoli and carrots, wild rice, a baked potato, and a green salad. Chase said it was your favorite meal the night before a big game.”

“Yeah.” I recovered from my daze and moved aside to let her in. “You brought food. I hope you’re staying.” I raised one eyebrow, waiting for her to answer while I kicked the door shut.

“Maybe.”

“You are.” I took the bag from her hands and placed it on the dresser. “Wanna share?”

“No. Paige and I grabbed takeout on our way here. We left later than we planned for, so we decided to stop to eat. Do you have water, though? I’m thirsty.”

I uncapped two bottles from the sixteen-pack I brought with me and offered Melinda one.

We sat cross-legged on the bed, and I attacked my food, hungrier now than I was minutes ago.

“Chase told me you felt off…”

I swallowed a mouthful of chicken. “He said that?” I hated the idea my best friend told everyone I was on the verge of a panic attack earlier.

“Don’t worry. He told me in confidence when he took me aside after I asked why you weren’t eating with the team.”

I pushed my plate away, a new set of knots tying my stomach. Closing my eyes, I counted my breaths.

“Mase?” Melinda’s fingers grazed my hand, and I relaxed. “Wanna tell me what is happening? Is it your shoulder that is bothering you? You haven’t said a word about it since you confided in me about hurting it last summer?”

“Nah. My shoulder is fine. I think… Remember when I told you that sometimes I freak out and let other people’s expectations get to me?” She nodded. “Well, tonight is one of those times. I keep replaying everyone’s words of encouragement in my head—Coach, the guys, my parents, Principal Ross. Even though they all meant well, they also told me to bring my A-game. Principal Ross and Coach want us to make history by winning State a second time in a row. The thing is…I know we can, and we have what it takes, but my brain is having trouble right now shutting down the voices in my head. It will be okay. I just need a little more time to get in the zone. And some peace and quiet.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No. Please. Stay.” I returned to my food. “This is freaking good. Where are you sleeping?”

“Second floor. Room two-twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two…my favorite number…”

“And your jersey.”

“Mel, you know what it means, right? You’re my lucky charm.” I pulled her hand and rested it on my knee, drawing circles on the back with my thumb.

“I am not.”

“You are. Did you…did you bring the jersey I left at your place? Your dad told me he would give it to you.”

“Yes. It’s in my bag.”

I exhaled my relief. “Tomorrow will be a great game.”

“You think?”

“I’m sure.”

Retreating a step, I extended my arm back, adjusted my grip on the pigskin, pivoted, and then voiced a prayer as I threw a Hail Mary. With my eyes half-closed, I followed the ball and hoped my brother was in sync with me to catch it. It was a long shot, but with seconds to go and over thirty yards to cover for the win, it was all or nothing.

Seconds felt like hours.

My heart jumped in my chest.

If Craig caught it, we would set a new record for the longest pass in high school football history.

I perused the field. Playing here felt like a dream, and I tried to burn as much of this moment to memory as I could. We almost lost in the semi-finals, but we pushed through, even though two of the guys were hurt. Today was the pinnacle of my high school football career. The one day that would cement the efforts of the last four years of my life.