Page 52 of Spiral
I whip my head to face him, my ears instantly reddening.
“What? What do you mean?”
Todd points above us to the first row of screaming fans, filled to the brim with beautiful, blonde sorority girls. The number “83” can be seen plastered across the chests of nearly all of them, and my heart immediately sinks.
“Jersey chasers,” Todd mutters, scowling. “I’ve never been into it. But to each their own. It was nice meeting you, Georgia.”
He smiles at me, placing a toothpick in his mouth and flipping it with his tongue lazily. He’s only a few steps away when he pauses, turning around to face me.
“For the record… if that were my jersey, you’d be the only one wearing it.”
He winks as he places his helmet over his head, then joins the Titans on the field without another word.
Um. What just happened?
The roar of the cheering fans deafens me as our team scores their first touchdown, still with no sign of Henry. In a daze, I find a seat a few feet back from the sideline and collapse my weight into it. I look down at my jersey, which now feels scratchy and cumbersome, and immediately become consumed by embarrassment.
How could I think Henry actually likes me? I must be the dumbest–
“Georgia, I’m so sorry I’m late.” Henry runs up to me, his gear disheveled and face burning red from the heat.
My heart practically stops the moment I see him. He’s holding his helmet and jersey in one hand, his shoulder pads knocked off kilter and undershirt exposed. Soft tendrils of chestnut hair fall across his forehead as he squints from the blinding sunlight. He’s a few feet away from me, but I can still see a glimmer in his eye the second he looks at me.
“Is everything okay?” I ask hastily, momentarily forgetting the gaggle of sorority girls dressed in his number and screaming his name from the stands.
“Yes. Well, um, my mom’s here. Long story.” He stops, noticing Coach Bryer gesturing at him maniacally and yelling for him to get on the field. “I’m sorry, I have to get out there…”
He pulls his jersey over his head, straightening his gear and positioning his helmet. Running to the field on Coach’s orders, he suddenly pauses.
“You look perfect in that!” he calls from the sideline, pointing at my jersey.
So does every other girl in this stadium.
Henry joins the rest of the Titans, causing the crowd to immediately erupt in thunderous cheers at the sight of him. He waves to the fans quickly before taking his place in the lineup of players.
“We’ve got number 83 taking the field, Texas University’s star quarterback and captain, Henry Anderson. He takes the ball and passes it to receiver Todd Watson – they make it to the 30-yard line! First down!”
The booming voice of the announcer echoes across Mason Field, heightened by the clamorous rumble from the stands.
“Anderson hands the ball to running back Jonah McGee. He pushes past number 65, almost to the 20-yard line, and he’s down!”
The stadium is filled with rowdy booing as the Titans lose possession of the ball. The opposing team, the Alabama Reds, have long been Texas University’s biggest rivals. This game is the deciding factor on which team makes it to the playoffs – and who has a chance at the national championship. The tension is palpable as the teams line up for the next play.
“Reds have the ball. Alabama quarterback, number 87, passes – interception by Watson!”
The crowd explodes into applause as Todd carries the ball down the field, sprinting so fast he’s practically floating above the turf. Alabama’s cornerback is miles behind him as Todd passes over each painted line, the fans growing louder and wilder with every yard.
“Watson takes the ball past the 20-yard line, past 10… TOUCHDOWN, Titans!”
Coach Bryer punches the air in excitement, knocking his headset off balance, and the cheerleaders immediately begin their touchdown chant. Their maroon and white uniforms fill the massive screen atop the stadium and I notice, in the center of them all, Natalia Bryer.
She effortlessly kicks and jumps in perfect unison with her team, her red lips plastered into a perfect, white smile. Maroon glitter is painted across her cheeks, mimicking the eye black on the players, and her silky, chocolate hair hangs in flawless ringlets, bouncing as she cheers.
The woman looks like she’s been photoshopped… and Henry used to date her. God.
The cheerleaders finish their final chant, waving their poms wildly in the air towards the crowd as the Titans take their place on the field once again. I notice then, without meaning to, Natalia trailing behind the rest of the girls, her eyes scanning across the stadium.
What is she doing?