We nab a field goal, but Northwestern throws a forty-yard touchdown on their next possession. For some reason, we’re just not clicking. I get the handoff from Easy, but the Wildcats are on my ass and take me down. Rinse, repeat.
By the end of the first quarter, we’re down nine to fourteen. It should be closer, but we missed that damn extra point after our lone touchdown.
The Wildcats could run away with it if we’re not careful.
Santos gives us that look, like we should know what the hell we’re doing wrong. “Thomas, you’re rushing it. If you start looking for your receivers downfield, it’ll open your running backs.”
“Yes, sir,” Easy pants.
Coach glances at us. “You’re ready for this matchup. We’ve got the power and strength and speed to keep these guys in check. You just have to believe it. We’re gonna mix things up this quarter. Get ready to run.”
I smack Easy on the back as we head back out on the field. “You got this. Take a deep breath. I got your back.” If I spot a sack headed his way, it’s my job to try to block for him if I’m able to.
We lose ground on the next two plays, and I can see the frustration in my teammates’ eyes.
On the next play, Easy’s trying to connect with Billy, our wide receiver, but the linemen are blitzing and headed for us at full force. I sprint to intercept one of them and hopefully give my QB time to get that throw off.
The defender and I go down in a heap of limbs. My teammates peel him off me. For a second, I blink up at the sky, and all I can see is Maggie’s beautiful face. Fuck, I just want to win this game and get my ass back home to her.
Diesel gives me a hand up. “You okay? You look like you just saw Jesus.”
I chuckle. “All good.” Especially when I see that Billy got us a first down. Santos is right. The more Easy throws, the more spread the defense is getting.
We huddle quickly and break to the line of scrimmage. On the snap, I sprint to the fifty-yard line and turn just in time to catch the pass, which gives us the first down. But I juke the defender and narrowly slip past another before I take off down the field like my life depends on it.
My knee feels solid, and that gives me the confidence to power on at full speed.
Another defender appears in my peripheral vision and dives at me. I jump, somehow managing to avoid his outstretched arms, and blast into the end zone.
My team goes crazy. Holy crap, that was a seventy-yard play. I’m smiling ear to ear as we make the extra point, which puts us ahead by two, and that’s how we head into halftime.
Everyone’s pounding my back in congratulations. Diesel holds out his fist. “ESPN highlight reel material, for sure.”
“Thanks, man.”
We’re headed down the tunnel when I spot Coach talking to Alex Escalante. It’s not usual to see Sienna’s dad at games. He flies all over the country on business, and since he’s our biggest booster, he has unrestricted access to the team. But something about his serious expression makes me uneasy, especially when he and Santos turn to face me.
Santos curls his finger. “Oliver.”
Shit. Whatever this is, it can’t be good. The man only calls me by my full last name when I’m in trouble. “Yes, sir.”
“Great run out there.”
That’s not what I expect him to say. But before I can thank him, he clears his throat. “Your girlfriend has gone into labor.”
Oh, shit.
That’s not supposed to happen when I’m at a game on the other side of the country. I’m supposed to be with Maggie when she has the boys. I promised.
“Are you sure?” I ask, praying I have more time.
Santos turns to Alex, who puts his hand on my shoulder. “I just got a call from Sienna, who says you need to, and I quote, ‘get your ass home.’ Maggie’s already at the hospital. Contractions are coming every seven minutes.”
My heart pounds harder than anything I experienced trying to outrun Northwestern. “What do I do? We’re in Chicago. She’s in Texas. Fuck.” I tug my hair with both hands.
Alex motions to a man in a suit. “My driver will take you to O’Hare, where you can borrow my private jet. If you’re lucky, you’ll be back in time.”
I turn to Coach. I don’t know how to tell him this. I’ve never missed a game before by choice.
