Page 19 of Never Say Never

My heart bottoms out when I notice the tension in his jaw, the focus in his eyes, the undeniable love he has for the game written all over his face. At Dream Bean this afternoon, his need to win was evident but tonight as he stalks to his position on the sidelines, there’s no mistaking just how badly he wants it.

It doesn’t surprise me. I know Tucker better than anyone. Coaching is his life, and he will do everything he needs to do to make sure the Outlaws take this victory. So far, he’s done a damn good job; the team leads the state in points and are the favorite to win the conference championships.

The burst of pride I feel for my friend is so strong it nearly brings tears to my eyes. I’ve always loved coming out to support our football team, but never more than when Tuck took the job as their head coach.

My plans to stay at home tonight went awry when my mom called and mentioned that Tucker had left tickets for us at will call. I tried to squirm my way out of it, but she pushed, and I relented. My parents are just back from their vacation, and it’sbeen a couple of weeks since I’ve seen them. My detox would have to wait one more day.

So, thanks to Tucker, we are sitting in the third row behind the team. We have our own little cheering squad: me, Briar, my parents and my Aunt Daisy and Uncle Mark.

I’d been relieved when my dad told me that Uncle Mark would be at tonight’s game. It isn’t often that Tucker’s dad makes the effort to show up and support him. But this is a huge game; it seems like the whole town is in attendance tonight.

“I’m so nervous, I can hardly stand it,” my mom says, leaning into me so I can hear her over the roar of the crowd.

“You and every other Outlaws fan,” I reply, my own nerves twisting a knot in the pit of my stomach. “How’s Aunt Daisy doing?”

I lean forward to look over at Tucker’s mom, who’s wearing an Outlaws jersey with her wide-legged linen pants and silver Gucci loafers. She always looks perfectly polished. Her light brown hair is styled in a long bob at her shoulders and the diamond choker that Uncle Mark gave her for their 20thwedding anniversary is around her neck.

I remember that night. My family had joined the Collins’ for a two-week vacation in Hawaii. Uncle Mark paid for everyone to go to a fancy restaurant for dinner to celebrate the milestone and Aunt Daisy’s jaw had dropped when she opened the jewelry box.

Things with Tucker were still normal then; we swam in the ocean together during the day, walked down the boardwalk for shaved ice after dinner. At night, he and I would sneak out of our hotel rooms to swim in the dark. We’d only drag ourselves out of the pool when we started shivering, or when we were caught by a security guard. I wonder if Tucker remembers that trip.

We hadn’t kissed yet. That would happen six months later, but we both came up with endless excuses to touch one another.Tucker was my first crush, and even all these years later, no one else has even come close to making me feel the way he does.

“It’s nice to see her supporting Tucker,” Mom says, looking at Aunt Daisy. “He’ll appreciate it. Your Uncle Mark, on the other hand, looks like he’d rather eat glass than be here. Stubborn ass.”

I roll my eyes before returning my gaze to Tucker, tracing every curve of his beautiful face. I have memorized every line. After tonight, Operation Detox resumes, so I figure it’s okay to get my fill in now.

“I wish he’d ease up on him,” I say to Mom, shaking my head. “Stop being so serious all the time.”

“I wish he would too, my darling. But it's just his nature. It’s part of the reason he’s so successful.”

Maybe my mom is right, but I’d be willing to bet Uncle Mark would be happier if he spent more time laughing and less time being so stressed about everything. Will he ever realize that he got it all wrong with Tucker? Will he ever just let his son make his own choices and live his own life?

The game passes in a nail-biting blur, and by the fourth quarter, the Outlaws are leading the Kodiaks 13-10. Both teams have played their hearts out tonight, but Tuck’s team almost has it. Their only job now is to defend our lead and hold them off for a few more minutes.

The whole place erupts as the clock runs down. Fans are on their feet, cheering, waving flags as our quarterback looks for his receiver then sends the ball soaring high over the field.

I steal a quick glance at Tucker, who is standing impassively, eyes locked on the field as he adjusts his baseball cap on his head.

With my heart beating wildly in my chest, I will the ball to land straight into the arms of our wide receiver. “Come on,” I murmur to myself, saying a silent prayer, positive I’m not theonly one talking to God in the stadium right now. And when he catches the ball and heads straight for the end zone, the cheers of the crowd are deafening.

Touchdown.

We still have a field goal to kick, but it doesn’t matter. The Outlaws win.

He did it! Of course he did. Tears of joy prick at the back of my eyelids as I watch Tucker do what he was born to do. On the sideline, he throws a fist in the air as the assistant coach, Jesse, tackles him from the side.

Briar throws her arms around my neck, and then both of us are jumping up and down. My mom joins us in a group hug, followed by high fives from my dad and my aunt. We are all here for Tucker. We always will be.

I look to the field to find Tucker standing in the middle of a throng of people, staring up at me. The moment our gazes lock, his eyes wrinkle at the corners and his thousand-watt smile spreads across his face. On a normal day, Tucker is handsome. ButthisTucker—joyful and filled with pride—is magnetic.

I smile back and we stare at each other in silence for a moment, the sounds of the crowd slipping away, until Jesse tugs at his arm and points him in the direction of a local reporter.

Tucker turns away and a rush of breath escapes my lungs. This isbad. I gather my jacket and bag, returning my attention to Briar and my parents. I need to get out of this stadium and away from Tucker. I need to go home and forget all about the way he just looked at me.

I take one last look at the field, my heart racing when I spot Tucker walking across the turf toward the tunnel. Butterflies erupt in my belly. How has he always managed to make me feel this way?

His stride is confident, but relaxed. It’s so Tucker. Just as he’s about to disappear into the tunnel, he turns back toward thestands, searching the crowd until his eyes find mine. A ghost of a smile touches his lips and then he’s gone, off to the locker room to celebrate with the team.

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