Page 98 of Fighting Fate

As I start setting up for dinner, he asks, "But 'For Dummies'?"

I chuckle, the sound bubbling up effortlessly. "We're both navigating blind when it comes to the MCAT, aren't we? Best to start somewhere." Before he can formulate a response, I quickly add our familiar rule, a twinkle in my eye. "And remember, our usual deal—no take backs."

His laughter fills the room, a sound that warms me to the core. He comes up behind me, his hand wrapping around my waist. His breath tickles my ear as he says, "I'm no dummy, Mills. I'm going to be a doctor. But thank you."

He plants a kiss on my temple, a gesture so simple, yet it sends my heart into a frenzy. It's just a kiss, Milli, not a life commitment. But oh, what a kiss it is.

"Ready for that play we've been drilling, Miles?" Coach's voice cuts through the tension, his eyes probing mine for certainty.

I nod, fiercely determined. It's etched in my brain—this play, this moment, right before Panthers' Day. This isn't just any game; it's the one where I prove to my dad, and to myself, that I've got what it takes.

Back on the field, I assume my position, feeling Jensen, our center, sizing me up with a glance.

My affirmation is on the tip of my tongue when suddenly, my vision wavers. I shake my head, clearing the blur, heart hammering in my chest. Hands trembling, I reach out, calling the snap with a voice that betrays my nerves. "Hut, hut, hike."

The ball snaps into my hands, a familiar and comforting weight. I drop back, adrenaline spiking as I scan for an opening. The defenders close in, but I'm locked in—this play is ours. But as I'm about to pass, disorientation hits like a tidal wave. The ground rushes up, and I'm on my back, pain throbbing in my head, my body a vibrating mess of sensation.

Miles, get up. This isn't the time to falter.

Struggling against the pain, I force my eyes open to a blurry figure leaning over me. It's Luke, those damned questioning eyes looking down. Anger flares within me, an urge to lash out.

"You good, man?" Luke's hand extends, pulling me up.

As teammates hover, worried, Coach's voice breaks through. "Get back out there, now!"

Luke gives me a supportive slap, nodding toward the field. "You heard him, let's move!"

Returning to his spot, Luke's questioning look lingers. My heart's a wild drum in my chest, but I muster a nod, pushing past the pain.

"Perseverance over pain," I whisper to myself, a mantra to overcome the struggle. Despite my dreams of medicine, I can't forget the football field and my dad's faith in me. Each moment counts.

Dad's eyes meet mine from the sidelines, tapping his head—our silent signal. I jog back into position, focus sharpening, heart rate steadying.

Fifty seconds, Miles. Make it count.

I line up behind Jensen, his reliability a rock in these final, crucial seconds.

Our rivals are set, their determination a mirror of ours. The stadium is an echoing cauldron of noise, the weight of expectation heavy on my shoulders.

Inhaling deeply, I ground myself. Raising my hand, I signal the snap. The ball hits my hands, and the world narrows to just the field, the players, and the end zone ahead. This is our moment, the culmination of every challenge, every victory. Now, it's all about this play, this snap, this chance.

Gripping the ball tightly, I watch the clock count down the precious seconds. Determination surges through me, each tick fueling my resolve. The stadium pulses with life—a symphony of cheers and palpable support. With adrenaline coursing through me, I execute Coach's meticulously planned play.

The snap is perfect, the scramble intense, and the pass—a stroke of genius. The ball lands in the receiver's hands, igniting the crowd into an uproar of triumph. Touchdown! The stands are alight with our victory.

Dropping to my knees, I offer a silent thanks skyward before touching the ground, whispering to myself, "We did it." My teammates swarm around, lifting me in a victorious whirl. Amidst the dizzying celebration, my eyes find Milli racing onto the field with the dancers. When I'm finally back on solid ground, my balance wavers slightly.

Milli's grip on my arm is firm, her smile as radiant as ever. "You okay?"

Better than okay, now that you're here.

I drape an arm around her, eliciting a soft giggle. Her blush, a perfect match for her strawberry blonde hair, sends my thoughts spiraling. Wondering what it would be like to give her a playful tug as I take her from behind, pumping into her mercilessly. I can't help but imagine she might enjoy it, perhaps even get turned on by it. I mentally file that away as something to explore with Milli at a later time.

We start toward the sidelines, where Coach, the Suttons, and my parents await. Dad's grin speaks volumes of his pride.

Luke, casually draping his arm around Milli and Payson, jokes, "Hell of a game, right, Chasen?"

I nod, my mind echoing Dad's usual advice about focus and resilience on the field. Milli's reassuring squeeze on my hip pulls me back from my thoughts. Her silent support means the world to me.

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