“You did it, man,” Cooper cheers.
“Trey, we need you on stage.” His agent pulls him away. His family is all smiles and tears as he accepts his Houston Tigers jersey on stage. We’re all watching on the screens, and my smile is so big my face hurts.
“For the second pick of the first round, the Indianapolis Defenders pick running back Cooper Reeves.”
I freeze. Cooper’s hand that’s still holding mine squeezes painfully. “Coop!” I scream and launch myself at him. We were so close to our seats that a chair gets knocked over in the process, but I couldn’t care less.
He did it.
My best friend is a professional football player.
“Second pick of the first round. Hell yes,” I cheer. He hugs me tightly, and when he pulls away, he kisses me. Right on the lips. There are cameras all around us, and I’m sure that will be shown on national television, but I don’t care.
He did it!
I try to pull away as his parents, and then mine, hug him, and just like Trey, his agent pulls him away from us. I stand, riveted in the place where he set my feet back on the floor and watch as he places a Defenders hat on his head and holds up his new jersey. I feel arms wrap around me from either side. Looking over each shoulder, I see Nixon and Hank. We stay huddled together, and with their hold on me, and my arms around their waists, I’m unable to wipe the tears from my face. After what seems like an eternity, Cooper comes back into the room, and he hugs his parents, then mine. Trey gets him next, then Nixon and Hank, and Tessa, who I didn’t even see beside us. Then his eyes land on me. In one large step, he’s standing before me. Hands on my hips, he lifts me in the air and spins me around.
We’re all laughing by the time he stops spinning us in circles. We’re led to a different room, leaving Hank and Nixon behind. I know this is Cooper’s journey, but it feels like mine as well. I know how hard he worked to be here. I’ve been to the games, stayed after for the practices, and watched as he fought the grueling classwork, practice, and game schedule in college. I’m so incredibly proud of him.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and check the screen. It’s a message from Hunter.Hunter: Second overall pick. Tell Cooper congrats.Me: Thank you. I’ll tell him.Hunter: Is there something going on with the two of you?I look around to see if anyone is standing close and reading over my shoulder. Cooper does this a lot. With our height differences, it’s easy for him.Me: What? Why would you ask me that?He replies with a screenshot of Cooper and me on his TV screen, and it’s the exact moment he pressed his lips to mine. It was mere seconds, but the fact remains that we kissed.
On national television.
Shit.Me: He was caught up in the moment. We’re just friends.Hunter: Okay.That’s it. Just okay. I was expecting a fight, but it appears as though Hunter isn’t into that. We’re still learning each other, so I don’t really know what his one-word answer means.
“Reese, you coming?” I look up to find my dad waiting with his hand out for me. I nod and slide my phone back into my pocket. I’ll call Hunter later and explain.
The next two hours, we watch and listen as the draft moves on. All four of my guys went in the first round. All. Four.
Cooper is going to Indianapolis, Nixon to Louisiana and is taking Tessa with him. Trey is going to Houston, and Hank is heading to Atlanta. My friends, my people are going to spread out all over. And me, I’ll still be here in Ohio. Sure, Cooper is just a three-hour drive from me. That’s wonderful, and can be an easy weekend trip. But he’s not going to have time for that until after the season is over. Between training camp and the season starting, he’s going to be engrossed in all things Defenders. He’s not going to have time for random visits from me. However, if I’m wrong, it will be easy to get to him.
I hope I’m wrong.
After congratulations are said, and hugs are passed around, we leave the hotel as a party of six. Two rows, three wide, leading us back to our hotel. We decided to eat there. It’s late, and although Vegas never sleeps, we do. Cooper insisted we all get some rest; he slept like shit last night—his words not mine—and he’s exhausted. I don’t think he’s going to do much better tonight. I’m sure the excitement will keep him wired.
“Thanks again, Reese, for being here,” he says, walking me to my room.