Page 33 of The Air I Breathe

CeCe makes a noise from. "You're better than me; I wouldn't be able to deal with it. Especially when she's acting out, and I have to tell her to behave herself. I can only imagine what people would think about what I say to her." She laughs as she desperately tries to hold onto a jumping-up-and-down Jovi. "I admire the way you can handle it. You don't seem to let anything get you too upset."

"Oh, it gets me upset," I correct her as I face back toward where she's sitting, knowing that the cameras can't see me. "I used to let other see it, and the difference now is I just break down in private. I refuse to let others see me cry. They use it against me every time. I finally had to learn that that's what the paps wanted to do—get a reaction of some sort. So now I give reactions I want to, and they're my own. I can control my emotions to a point, and that's what's needed when it comes to the vultures of the media. They want it, whether it be good or bad, but truthfully, they prefer the bad. So if I'm going to get angry or cry, I take a few deep breaths, paste a smile on my face, and act unbothered."

"I don't know how you do that." CeCe shakes her head. "Once someone gets an emotional reaction from me, it's really hard to turn it off."

"Lots of therapy." I laugh. "And knowing that no matter what I do, those people can spin it anyway they want to. At the end of the day, it honestly doesn't matter what I say or do—they can erase anything with one article. I have to remain true to myself, and as long as I'm doing that I'm satisfied." I shrug. "I have to be because it's the only thing I can control."

"I admire you." CeCe smiles. "You've got it together pretty well."

I take a drink of the mojito in my hand, swallowing hard. "I didn't always. I used to let everything, and I do mean everything, bother me. I gave the media and people who wanted to tear me down too much ammunition to do so. Once I learned to keep things close and not let them see me cry or worry, and I found out who I could trust, things became a lot easier."

I don't tell them how I had to come to those conclusions. How it took years and a lot of fucking hurt to get here. That I second-guessed myself every step of the way, and even now I resent the fact I can't seem to be myself with many people. Blake, though? He's different in so many ways. I'm grateful and thankful we found each other. I've prayed for a chance to be in a normal relationship. If this isn't one then I don't know what I'm going to do with myself.

Instead of continuing the conversation, I have a seat by the glass and focus intently on the game. One thing I can't do is stop my knee from bouncing up and down.

"I used to have so much pent up energy when I'd watch them play," Pam says as she eyes my knee. "I didn't know what to do with it. When Blake would get a touchdown, or Bret would make a beneficial block, which they tend to do for each other, I'd scream as loud as I could—so loud that other parents would tell me to quieten down."

I scoff. "Isn't is weird how those emotions come out of our bodies? I used to get this surprised face at awards ceremonies, and people would say it was fake, but really, I just couldn't believe I'd won. I never go in thinking I'm going to win. There's competition, and I'm up against the best of the best, more often than not.They'd never let me just enjoy it. Ya know? And all I wanted to do was enjoy it."

"Well Willa, you can enjoy anything and everything with this crew." Pam gives me a genuine smile. "We're as normal as you get, and sometimes we might let the bright lights get to us, but pretty soon we'll expect you to be drinking beer and eating pimento cheese sandwiches right by our sides."

My mouth waters. "You can never beat a good pimento cheese sandwich. Don't threaten me with a good time."

Turning my attention back to the field, I see Russell lining up behind Bret, and I let my eyes travel the field for the number ninety-three. That's Blake. Once I see him, my gaze stays glued. The play moves into motion and he takes off, running a pattern that only the team knows. When he turns, his hands go up, and he catches the ball effortlessly.

We all jump up and down, screaming as he runs for a touchdown. When he does, the entire stadium erupts. There are fireworks and a song that we all dance to plays. Bret runs and jumps up into his arms. When Blake puts Bret down on the ground, he points up to the suite, forming a heart with his hands.

I put my hand on my chest, visibly swooning. No doubt that will be all over the news tomorrow, but it won't be something I'll be worried about seeing. It'll be something that I'll be able to look back on and think about with fondness, not something that will be tainted by what others have made fun of or turned into a mockery.

CeCe is holding Jovi. Jovi holds her hand up to me, and we do a high-five. The way her little hand smacks mine is the sweetest thing. It's then that I look up at the Jumbotron and see that they're showing us. Typically, I would be careful to make sure there's a smile on my face, but I don’t need to today. The smile on my face is fucking permanent, and it'll take a whole hell of a lot to wipe it off.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Willa

"Hey." Blake grins at me as he leaves the locker room and makes his way over to where I’m waiting with the other families. "Did you like the game?"

I reach up, hooking my arms around his neck. I actually have to stand on my tiptoes to do so, which I've never had to do with a man before. It's something I've always wanted. A little checkmark that's been sitting there, waiting for me to find someone to fulfill it. "I loved it. That touchdown was the most exciting thing I've witnessed. Obviously I've seen them before, but I've never known the person making the play."

"Well, now you do. I plan on making plenty of them when you're around."

We hug each other, and when he pulls back, he has a huge smile on his face and his eyebrows are lifted. "You care to come in and meet the guys? They really wanna say hi to you."

This isn't something I'd planned on, but I appreciate the fact that they've allowed me to come into their stadium and undoubtedly cause issues. "Sure, I'd love to. Is everyone dressed?"

He laughs. "Yeah, I made sure everyone was done with their showers and at least has their drawers on."

"Then I'm ready if you're ready to take me in there."

I've never been in a locker room, and as we head in, I expect it to stink. Surprisingly, it smells good, like a bunch of different types of male-scented shampoo and bodywash. I distinctly can also pick out which one Blake wears. I'm holding his hand, tucked into his side as we enter.

"Willa, hey. I'm Coach Wallace. I'm glad you could come see us play today." He comes out of his office, holding a clipboard.

I reach out and shake his hand. "Willa, nice to meet you. It was a great game. I've been to a couple before, but this one is one I'll remember forever."

"I'm sure that has nothing to do with the fact we beat New York by thirty and more to do with you watching Blake play for the first time." His voice is deadpan, and enough to make me laugh.

"Coach tells us all exactly what he thinks all the time." Blake sighs. "We don't try to change him anymore."