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“Can he hook us up with some of his teammates?” Laney asked, redirecting my attention to the field where Alabama’s offense ran out onto the field. Seren got them into a huddle.
“Maybe,” I laughed as I stood up and straightened out my Alabama jersey.
Being away from Seren during the first semester sucked. Luckily, we video chatted daily, and I streamed his games every weekend. I was able to go to a few over winter break, so this wasn’t the first time I was getting to see him play in person. And he definitely lived up to the hype.
Though I was loving my time in Tampa, I couldn’t wait for summer. Seren planned to stay with me so I could continue interning at the rescue center, and we could spend all my free time together. He’d have to head back for summer football practices—being the team’s starting quarterback and all—but we’d still get to spend quality time together like we’d done over winter break.
On the field, Alabama was down by three with under three minutes remaining. Seren would be heartbroken to have taken his team this far only to lose in the national championships. The ball was snapped and Seren shuffled back, looking to go long to one of his receivers. The crowd grew louder, willing the receiver to get to his intended spot faster. Seren dodged a defender and then released the ball. The ball soared in a perfect spiral and the receiver nabbed it over his head, bolting toward the end zone but was tackled at the forty-yard line.
“Dammit,” Sawyer cursed, despite the crowd’s cheers.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“The clock doesn’t stop if they get tackled inbounds,” Saint said.
Right. Seren told me that. I didn’t know much about football before dating him, but since I’d been watching his games and getting play-by-plays after the games, I’d been picking up the basics.
On the field, the ball was tossed back by the ref. Seren didn’t call for a huddle this time, and his offense moved to their spots on the line of scrimmage. He called something to the right then to the left. The ball was snapped, and everyone was on the move. Seren took a few steps back, and a running back crossed behind him. He handed off the ball to him. The running back took off, but the defense was there and tackled him, not allowing for any yards.
“They may not score,” Saint said.
“Don’t jinx them,” Sawyer and I snapped at the same time.
With the clock stopped, Seren called his teammates into a huddle before they lined up. The ball was snapped and again Seren handed it off to a running back. This time the running back found a hole and bolted down the field. The crowd became deafening as they willed him into the end zone, but he didn’t make it that far, getting tackled at the twenty-yard line. The crowd went wild. Victory was so close we could all taste it.
My eyes jumped to the clock. “Why’d the clock stop? I thought it only stops when they go out of bounds?”
“Two-minute warning,” Sawyer explained.
“I can’t believe Seren dates someone who knows so little about football,” Saint sneered.
“Screw you, Saint,” I snapped.
He cursed under his breath and took off, leaving us to watch the remainder of the game without his unwanted comments.
“He’s just worried they’re gonna lose,” Sawyer assured me. “Don’t take his ignorance personally.”
My body buzzed with nerves. Two minutes to bring home a victory. If anyone could do it, Seren could. I mean, he wouldn’t allow it to happen any other way.
Seren and his teammates lined up. This time when the ball was snapped, he backpedaled, avoiding one defender and getting into an open spot. Out of nowhere, another defender charged him, but somehow, he sidestepped him. He needed more time to find an open receiver. He, along with the rest of the stadium, spotted one cutting left in front of the end zone. Every breath was held as he released the ball. It seemed to float in slow motion forever until it landed in his teammate’s hands. Instantly, he was tackled on the two-yard line.
The stadium exploded. Two. More. Yards!
I looked to the clock which was still ticking down. Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight…
“Can’t they call a timeout to stop the clock?” I asked Sawyer.
“No timeouts left,” he said.
Seren huddled with his teammates as the seconds continued ticking down.
With forty seconds to go on the clock, they lined up. I chewed on my bottom lip, so damn nervous yet excited at the same time. The ball was snapped. Seren didn’t reel back with it, instead, he plowed forward, jumping over the defense who was charging at him. He landed with a roll in the end zone.
The crowd erupted, the cement beneath my feet rumbling like an earthquake had hit. My friends and Sawyer sandwiched me and we jumped up and down together. There wasn’t a person seated in that stadium. Seren ran to the sideline, and his teammates jumped all over Seren, celebrating his amazing play that hopefully secured their final win of the season and a national championship.
I watched Seren get swept up in the arms of all of his new friends. This was where he belonged. He never fit in back at Windham. He’d been surviving, but not living. I’d like to think I had something to do with the change in him, but I knew it was because all the anger toward his mother he carried for three years had been lifted from his shoulders. He also gained more confidence—if that was even possible—by winning the starting position. He clearly deserved the position, and there wasn’t a fan out there who could deny that.
Alabama scored the field goal, getting them the extra point. With seconds left, Georgia attempted a Hail Mary which resulted in an interception.
