Out in the End Zone (Out in College 2)

I nodded, too choked up to reply. Mom touched her screen and flashed a teary smile. “We’ve seen you suffer, Ev. We’ve seen you fall down and pick yourself up and start over again. We’ve seen you conquer your fears like a true champion. We are in awe of you, baby. We stand by you. We respect you and we are honored to be your parents. We love you. To the next galaxy and back.”

I sniffed loudly and rubbed my nose in a valiant attempt to get my emotions under control.

“So…tell us about him. What’s he like?” Dad asked.

“He’s awesome. His name is Mitch. You’re gonna like him. Of course, I gotta make him like me again, but—”

“You will,” Mom assured me.

“Yeah. I will.”

A few hours later, I wasn’t sure how anything was going to play out. From the moment I’d stepped into the locker room, I’d felt like I was moving in slow motion. My concentration was shot and my nerves were on edge. I adjusted my shoulder pads and leaned in to check for any incoming messages. I hadn’t heard back from Chelsea since noon when she promised to try. Try. Ugh. That word frustrated me. I was hoping for a “Don’t worry, Ev. You’ve got this.” Or better yet, a “Mitch still loves you. Stop freaking out.”

Did I love him? Yeah, I did. The feeling wasn’t what I’d expected, though. I thought love would be sweet and dreamy, like the world’s best and longest-lasting orgasm. In reality, it was more like a heart-thumping roller coaster ride with hair-raising twists that turned you inside out. But it was more life-affirming than anything I’d ever experienced. I had to win him back. I took a deep breath and let the noise filtering through the open locker room door take over.

The stadium seemed louder than ever. I supposed it made sense. This was an important playoff game. Whoever won would head on to the championship. Nerves were high, and adrenaline levels were through the roof. Division Three teams might not garner the notoriety some of the more elite programs did, but we had an impressive base of supporters who’d turned up in throngs tonight to cheer us on. The lights, noise, and feverish quality in the mid-November air were reminiscent of a rock concert. Our fans came to see us kick ass, and we were going to do our best to deliver.

Christian called us into a huddle for one of his usual pregame speeches. I grabbed my helmet and was about to close my locker when my cell vibrated. My heart slammed against my chest when I picked it up…and then took a nosedive. It wasn’t Chelsea. It was Nicole.

Please come, Evan. It’s an important event for the school. Just a quick date.

Thank you, but I can’t. I swallowed hard and glanced around the bustling locker room at the fierce-looking jocks head-butting, pushing, shoving, and riling each other up to kick some ass out on the field. Then I glanced at my screen and added, My boyfriend wouldn’t approve.

My finger hovered over the button for half a second, and then I pressed Send. My heart raced like I’d run a marathon but fuck, it felt good too. It would feel better when I knew I actually had a boyfriend, but I’d fix that part later. I tossed my phone inside my bag, closed my locker, and hurried to join my teammates.

“…we got this,” Christian was saying. “We’re better, we’re faster, we’re stronger, and this is our house. No one is gonna beat us here. Am I right?” He waited for our explosive whoops to die down before continuing. “Those are our people. Our fans.”

“Mostly Evan’s though,” Jonesie piped in.

“Shut up, Jones,” Christian snapped. “Now let’s do this. One, two, three…”

I cheered along with the rest of the guys, then stepped back to adjust the strap on my helmet. I waited for Jonesie to do the same before I popped him upside the head. “What was that crack for?”

“Your YouTube fans are out there with rainbow flags and posters that say, ‘Evan and Mitch Forever.’ You better make us look good out there, or everyone is gonna think you’re a fag, dude,” he huffed.

“Ignore him. Let’s go.” Christian smacked my ass on his way out the door.

“No. Stop!”

I waited for Christian to turn around. The rest of the guys grumbled like bulls at the starting gate, but I knew they’d take Christian’s lead. He had a commanding presence that resonated on our team. They liked my good-natured bluster. I could incite a riot with a goofy chant and get the troops revved up for battle, but when Christian spoke, they stopped to listen.

“What is it?”

“My timing is weird but…if there really are signs out there—”

“We’ll ignore them. Don’t worry about it,” Christian assured me.