Spiked

Sometimes the good guys really did win. I looked at Jacob as he continued to listen to whatever was being said on the phone. The biggest moment of his athletic career had arrived and it felt so incredibly intense, my heart was pounding.

The phone call took less than a minute— an insanely short amount of time, really— and when Jacob finally lowered his cell, he looked shaken. I wrapped my arms around him and he leaned against me, his chest shaking, his breath hard and fast. The room cheered, someone unmuted the television and ESPN music flooded our living room.

“It’s real,” Jacob said in my ear. He stood up, pulling me along with him, hugging me tightly. “I’m a pro football player. This is really happening.”

“I’m so proud of you,” I said back, and he kissed me, again and again and again.

I looked into his eyes. “Where are you even going to be playing?”

He grinned broader. “Atlanta. You think I’d move away from you?”

I laughed. “I could have changed schools, you know.”

“I’d never ask you to do that,” Jacob said seriously, then kissed me again. “You never ask someone you love to give up their dreams.”

I ran my fingers along the nape of his neck, smiling at him, not caring at all that the cameras were catching every moment, that the room was full of people, that this clip would likely be re-aired time and time again on news stations. Not caring one bit that I, a girl who once upon a time hadn’t been to a single football game and was devoted to school, was in love with a NFL quarterback who’d barely attended class.

And he was in love with me.

Love, after all, didn’t give up when things got difficult, I thought, and kissed him again and again and again.

THE END