Page 129 of A Whole New Play

“I’m glad.”

To prevent awkwardness from settling, I introduce Carter’s parents to Megan.

After they finish discussing her job in Houston, Mr. Jones clears his throat. “Well, we should be getting to our seats.”

“Aw,” Andy and Abby moan.

“But we don’t want to leave until we see Dad,” Andy adds.

“He’s too busy to say hi right now,” his grandmom tells him. “He’ll talk to you after the game.”

“Fine.” Andy huffs, then looks at me. “Are you sitting with us, Valerie?”

“No, I’m sitting in a box with other coaches’ families.”

Both Andy and Abby pout, and it takes everything I have not to tell them I’ll join them in their private suite.

Through my dad, I learned Carter and a few other players bought out a box for their friends and family to watch the game. Dropping a couple hundred thousand dollars on a half-day event seems excessive to me, but then again, I don’t have a couple million to spare. I’d probably think differently if I did.

“Will we see you after the game?” Abby asks.

I should say no.

I don’t want to get their hopes up. I shouldn’t get their hopes up.

But I can’t stop myself from saying, “Maybe.”

“Okay!” Abby grins.

“See you later!” Andy waves excitedly before slipping his hand into his grandad’s palm. Abby holds onto her grandmom and then the group is on their way to the suite where they will watch the game.

“They’re cute,” Megan observes.

“Yeah.” I watch until I lose sight of Abby and Andy in the crowd then look back at my best friend. The stadium roars as the rest of the Rough Riders run onto the field for their warm-up.

“You know,” she begins gently. “It’s not too late to change things.”

I don’t have to wonder what she means.

Megan is ever the optimist. It’s one of the things I like about her.

Unfortunately, in this situation, her optimism is misplaced.

“But it is too late,” I disagree.

And as if fate wants to confirm my words, I feel the brush of someone’s stare on me.

My gut already knows who it is.

I brace myself before I turn and find none other than Carter Jones standing on the thirty-yard line, surrounded by his teammates, staring at me.

My heart jumps into my throat. Adrenaline urges me to either fight or take flight pumps through my veins.

Seeing Carter in person is so much different than seeing him on TV.

I knew it would be, but I’m still unprepared for the tumultuous emotions racing through my head, rendering me immobile.

I want to go to him. I want to go to him so bad it hurts.

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