Spiked

“Alright,” I said, shaking my head, laughing, crying, disbelieving. “Alright, alright.”

“Alright what?” Jacob asked teasingly.

“Alright to everything,” I answered, and Jacob laughed in a loud, full way, then pulled me toward him, wrapping me in his arms, lifting me off the ground, and pressing his lips to mine. My classmates whistled and gasped and cheered but the sound didn’t matter— all that mattered, in that moment, was the feeling of being in Jacob’s arms again. The feeling of being with him again. The feeling of knowing that we were going to try, at least, to make this work.

“Hey,” he whispered against my mouth. “I’m dying here.”

“What?” I asked, confused, leaning forward to kiss him again.

He met my lips, then said, “I sort of just told you I love you, and I’m dying waiting to hear it back. If I’m going to hear it back.”

I laughed, pointed my toes at the floor— he had me lifted at least a foot off the ground, and the feeling of my toes dangling made me feel weightless and perfect and protected in the best of ways. I pressed my lips against his cheek, then whispered in his ear.

“I’m in love with you too.”

Epilogue

“As you can see here, we’re at home with Jacob Everett, who we believed will be selected in this seventh round of the draft,” the sportscaster said— though the monitor was low, so I could just barely hear the words. Jacob was sitting beside me, cell phone in his right palm, my hand in his left.

I could feel his pulse racing, it was so strong.

“He’s there with some of his Harton coaches, you see his parents in the background and a few teammates. Right beside him, there, that’s his girlfriend Sasha, known around the campus as the beauty who tamed the beast— apparently Jacob was quite the ladies man before he met her!” one of the other sportscasters said, grinning at the prospect.

“Definitely a full house there— are they at home?”

“I believe that’s the apartment he shares with his girlfriend, yes— and oh! Looks like he’s getting a call now,” the announcer said.

The cameras were trained on us as all of this was said, and it hit me that a lot of people were watching us. Live. Right then and there.

Indeed, Jacob’s phone was trilling in his hand. He stared at the unknown number for a moment, the looked at me. His eyes were wavering, overwhelmed. Terrified.

“Answer it,” I said breathlessly. The room was silent— though I could hear the eager crying of Jacob’s mother behind us. A lifetime of practices, of training, of work, all leading up to this moment.

Jacob lifted the phone to his ear. It was clear he was trembling, a fact that the cameramen who had been stationed in our apartment all morning zoomed in on— I saw the image grow larger on the nearby monitor. I watched Jacob’s eyes as they grew wider, watched his mouth as it twisted into a smile and sob and relief all at once. I was grinning in the biggest, stupidest way but couldn’t stop myself— it was happening. Everything Jacob had ever worked for was happening.

“Yes sir,” Jacob said into the phone. “I’d be honored, sir.”

The coaches behind us began patting one another on the back, shaking hands; I saw Mr. and Mrs. Everett embrace tightly and my heart actually went out to them, I felt their joy so acutely.

I thought about how quickly and definitively Jacob had shut his parents down the last time they’d tried to undermine our relationship. It was months ago now, but I could still remember how his mother had made yet another comment about Jenna in front of me, and this time Jacob hadn’t let it go.

He’d told both his parents in no uncertain terms that he loved me, that he and Jenna were just friends, and that if his folks continued to be anything other than generous and kind to me, they’d be buying their own tickets to whatever games he played in the future.

The message must have been received loud and clear, because from that day on, Mr. and Mrs. Everett had been nothing but gracious and warm to me. Sure, it was going to take a lot of time for me to truly forget the way they’d treated me in the beginning, but I knew time would heal the old wounds eventually.

As it was, I’d been so consumed with moving in together, building a life together, being with the man of my dreams—the last thing I even thought about these days was the few times Jacob’s mother had said something rude to me.

I came back to the present as his mother actually gave me a smile and I returned it, marveling at the way the world worked sometimes.

Sometimes, it turned out, things actually got better and not worse.