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Meghan
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The stadium lights never shined so bright.
Like an old friend, I welcomed the scent of freshly groomed turf.
The sun graced us with another beautiful, southern August day.
“Today commemorates the first game of the one hundred twenty-fifth season for the Southern Statesmen.” The commentator welcomed the band to take the field for the national anthem.
Everyone in the stadium rose to their feet. Gentlemen removed their hats.
In some weird way, the standing ovation symbolized more than patriotism. It almost felt like the people stood for progress. For goals reached and liberty shared. Did they know my story? Were they standing for me? For Chase? For us?
The music started softly, then the cymbals crashed. If it wasn’t for Rosie, I wouldn’t have learned the names of the instruments or the movements the band made on the field. She stood with her baton at attention on the fifty-yard line. Her chin pointed towards the nose bleeds. Her smile made the stars look weak.
Life couldn’t get much brighter.
The team rushed the field, Chase trailed behind with his arm tucked into his sling. We’d worked hard to get him ready for the season. He needed two or three more weeks before he could don his shoulder pads and helmet.
Despite his injury, Chase sprinted to the sidelines. He glanced into the stadium, scanning the front row. I watched in slow motion as his lips shifted and those crinkles along the side of his eyes tipped up. His face lit up for me. Me.
He looked at me with so much passion and love. For the first time in too long, my heart was full.
I pointed to his number on the front on my jersey. “I’m yours,” I mouthed the words, knowing he would never be able to hear me over the crowd.
Forever. I wanted to shout it from the top of rooftops.
He winked into the stands.
“We match.” He pointed from his jersey to mine.
I shook my head. I loved that goofball with every inch of me.
The ref blew his whistle, and the crowd went ballistic. Most of us were already standing. Waiting, watching, worrying. Would we lose ground on the first play?
The special teams rushed the field to punt the ball away. Thank God for good kickers, he punted the ball beyond the goal line, giving our team the advantage of a touch back.
Our defense broke the huddle and took the field. The massive linemen dropped into position at the twenty-yard line.
“Hut.” The opposing quarterback snapped the ball. It sailed through the air. Our defense had every player blocked. Man-on-man defense—my favorite! Chase would have found a way to catch that ball. But since the visiting team didn’t have that luxury, the ball fell to the field.
“Incomplete.” The ref waved the play away.
The defense pushed the other team back by a couple yards.
By the third play, we sacked the quarterback in our end zone, putting our first points on the board. Two points for the Statesmen.
At the end of the first quarter, I gave up watching the game. The Statesmen had already scored three touchdowns. The other team didn’t stand a chance.
Instead, I watched Chase. He found moments to talk to the freshman holding his spot. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but I’d bet anything Chase was cheering him on. That’s the kind of person he was. Kind. Calm. Professional.
He watched Adam, Luke and even Jarod take the field without him. From where I sat, it didn’t seem to bother him as much as I thought it would. He’d be back in the game soon enough. There was plenty of time to make his mark on the world. His story had only just begun.
The play clock wound down until the buzzer ended the first half.
Before he rushed to the locker room, Chase ran to me.
Me.
He climbed the railing to reach my seat.
“Be careful. We don’t need you breaking any more bones.” I reached for his good arm to bolster him to the rail.
“I love you Meghan Grace Foster.” Could he smile any brighter?
The shattered pieces of my heart snapped back together. I found the missing part of me. For so long, it felt as if my world spun backwards or maybe too slowly. Something was off.
When he spoke the words, everything shifted.
My world.
My life.
Me.
All is well.
I loved myself, so I could love him.
“I love you more, Chase Harrison.” I licked my lips before pressing them against his.
The band blared a song I’d heard on the radio at least a million times. If I opened my eyes, I’d see Rosie tossing her fire batons into the air. I kept them closed.
My moment with Chase meant more than the halftime show.
Chase pulled away. “One more. For new beginnings.”
He leaned over the railing and brushed his lips against mine. That kiss meant more to me than anything money could buy. It calmed any fears that we might not last, or that he didn’t accept me for the person I’d become.
The kiss was pure and sweet.
Loving.
Chase Harrison loved me. When he pulled away, his warmth stayed with me, even after he was no longer in sight.
He loved me.
Cold liquid trickled down the back of my pants and the smell of beer pummeled my nose. The calmness that Chase gifted me morphed into red, hot rage.
I turned to face the culprit.
“Oops.” The puny redhead giggled.
A shot of lightning hit my heart.
The air whooshed out of my lungs as if I’d been punched in the gut.
What the actual fuck?
Out of all of the jerseys she could have worn...
Why was she wearing his?
The end is only the beginning.
***
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