Page 213 of Playing By Ear

“Okay.” The striker backed away. “Let’s never see each other again.”

Jamie gave him a thumbs-up and went to rejoin his teammates, whose fatigue, funnily enough, seemed to have vanished. They all bounced and danced to Ricky Martin’s “Copa de la Vida” while the league officials set up for the trophy ceremony.

At last it began. Jamie stood with his arms around Ali and Katie as Heather was awarded Player of the Match for making a record eleven saves, not including the two penalties. Then Colin collected the Golden Boot for scoring the most goals over the course of the tournament. The two Warriors joined hands and raised their trophies, to the delight of the Rainbow Regiment.

Then Forthside collected their runners-up medals, the players and coaches filing desultorily up the stairs to shake hands with the officials and receive their unwanted awards.

Finally it was the Warriors’ turn. Fergus led the way as captain, his face nearly as red as his hair as the gold medal’s strap was looped over his neck. He turned to the crowd and blew a kiss toward the Regiment, where John’s voice seemed to ring out above the others.

The other Warriors followed, Duncan and Colin still bouncing, before and after getting their medals, mugging for the cameras.

Following Katie, Jamie mounted the final stair and stepped forward. He held his breath as the weight of the gold medal thumped against his chest. One of the guys in suits—the sponsor, or maybe the head of the football association—leaned over and remarked on his penalty kick. Jamie could only nod and smile, too dazzled by the nearness of the trophy to make conversation.

Charlotte was last in the queue. On impulse, Jamie leaned over and threw his arms around her, their medals knocking together. “I love you,” he said, the only words he could manage. The only words that mattered.

She hugged him back. “Love you, too, lad. Now turn around. It’s time.”

He turned to see the oldest of the suit guys hand the trophy to a misty-eyed Fergus. With the Warriors gathered tightly round, Fergus bent his knees, then jumped up, thrusting the trophy high above his head.

Surely the roar was heard throughout Glasgow.

As the Rainbow Regiment shot cannons of purple and white confetti, each player in turn took the Cup, kissed it, and lifted it aloft alone—except Liam and Robert, who hoisted it together.

Colin, of course, licked it.

Katie took the trophy and jumped up and down while shrieking with joy, her long dark braid whipping back and forth. Then she handed it off to Jamie.

The trophy was warm from his teammates’ hands, and so shiny he saw his own reflection. Martin’s words came back to him:

Picture the victory. Close your eyes and feel that cup in your hands. Feel how heavy it is to lift.

He didn’t have to imagine anymore, but he closed his eyes anyway, just for a moment, and brought the trophy to his lips.

As he lifted it high, the song in his mind changed, to the one he was writing for Perry. And all at once, the final line slid into place.

Epilogue

Later that summer

Now you see me

Now you know

The truest meaning

Of the lies I told

Just how I’m built

On love and guilt

Now you see me

Now you see me

“So beautiful,” Perry heard Sarah say as Jamie finished the second chorus of “Now You See Me.”

For once, Perry himself was speechless. Jamie had played this song for him at home, but hearing it onstage, even in this cozy venue, brought it fully to life. How was this real?