I laugh, the sound exploding from my chest as the weight of the conversation is lifted. “Let’s just say I’d look pretty damn good in orange and navy.”
After breakfast, I swing by the football building. Coach’s optional workout doesn’t start for another hour, so I should be able to catch him before he hits the field. I pass by the guys suiting up in the locker room and head straight for his office. I knock on the open door and he looks up, a wide grin spreading across his face.
“You decided to come out after all.”
“I’m not here to practice,” I tell him, solidifying my resolve. His face falls and he gestures for me to take a seat, but I remain standing. I won’t be here long and I’m pressed for time. “I’m here to thank you for your advice, sir. I appreciate your thoughts on the potential in Chicago and your unwavering confidence in me. I know I said my future was in Pittsburgh,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck, “but I’ve come to realize there’s no one path to success. I’ve talked it over with my father. I’d love to meet with Chicago’s coaching staff at the combine, and I’d be honored if they call my name in April, but there’s something more important than football I need to do today.”
Coach’s brows knit in an angry V. “What the hell could be more important than football?”
“My future.” He looks perplexed, but I doubt he’d be impressed by the truth. The man eats, sleeps, and breathes football. I doubt he’s ever loved anyone or anything as much as he loves the game. It’s a mistake I don’t plan on making. “I hope you’ll give my regards to the Chicago scout.”
He throws up his hands in defeat, and I take it as a good sign.
“Thanks, Coach.”
I start dialing my teammates as soon as I leave Coach’s office, my mood lighter than it’s been in ages. I’ve got some recruiting to do if I’m going to win back my girl.
Kennedy
The auditorium is packed as we take our seats in the third row. I’m wedged in between Enzo and Mom, but that doesn’t stop Becca from reaching over to pat me on the leg.
“Third row for the win. You won’t have to walk as far when they call your name,” she says with her usual optimism. I kind of want to hug her face for giving up her day off to come support me. Fall semester’s been rough. Between soccer and football, we’ve hardly spent any time together, but our friendship is as strong as ever and I know I can always count on Becca to be there for me when I need her. “You’ve totally got this, girlie.”
“Here’s hoping.” Enzo and I won our heat, but with five heats, it’s impossible to know the overall winners since times weren’t posted. I swear the ACME judges are masochists. This has been the longest weekend of my life, although if I’m being honest, the competition is only half to blame. I’m doing my best not to think about the other reason, all six foot four of him.
The struggle is real.
We wait with baited breath as the rest of the crowd files into the auditorium. I’m too nervous to make small talk, although my mom and Becca don’t share my affliction.
Enzo nudges my shoulder. “Don’t forget to breathe.”
I flash him a shaky smile. “Pfft. Only sixty of the original seven hundred and eighty-six teams competing advanced to the finals. I’ll take those odds.”
The minute the words are out of my mouth, I want to stuff them back in, because in truth, the odds aren’t great. Which is why I need to focus on the positive. I already lost my boyfriend this weekend. Losing the competition is not an option.
Good vibes only.
Right. A win today will give us a chance to compete at the international level. And it’ll open a lot of professional doors, doors that might otherwise be closed to us. I can’t speak for Enzo, but I don’t have connections, and in a field that’s heavily dominated by men, I need every advantage I can get when it comes to career placement.
Besides, how freaking cool would it be to work for one of the top engineering companies, like Gamut, where I could help drive change and inspire other girls to pursue STEM careers? That’s the kind of influence I want to have in my field. Sort of like the amazing opportunity football has given me to show girls they truly can do anything.
My chest tightens at the thought of football. And Austin. He believed I could play D1 football even when I didn’t. He was also the one who helped me see what a great platform I was building to change the narrative about girls in male-dominated sports and STEM fields.
For that, I’ll always be grateful.
The lights go down and the emcee takes the stage. I try not to fidget as he runs through the usual minutia, talking about all the work ACME’s doing in the industry and the hard work of all the competitors.
“Yeah, yeah. No one’s a loser. We get it,” I whisper to Enzo. “Can’t they get to the awards already? I’m dying over here.”
“Same.”
After twenty minutes of lip service, the emcee finally invites the judges to the stage. I sit up straighter, my pulse pounding. Mom grabs my hand and gives it a quick squeeze.
“The third-place runner up from Cornell University is…Team KISS!”
The crowd applauds, and we watch as the students make their way to the stage to collect their crystal trophy and have their picture taken. I’m clutching the arm of the chair so hard my fingernails are digging into the soft wood.
The applause dies down and Team KISS moves to the back of the stage. Then the emcee announces the second-place runner up from MIT: Team Awesome.
We applaud again, and watch as they go through the same routine. The tension in the
