Page 39 of End Game

And the Dolphins are doing everything they can to stop it from happening.

“Why in the world do you feel guilty?”

“First game I come to watch and they’re losing?” I shake my head. “I’m bad luck.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“You can’t stop biting your nails, and you look like you want to hurl. We’re both being ridiculous.” I’m literally sweating along my hairline, and I wonder if all the paint on my face is smeared. Great.

Sienna rolls her eyes, a horrified cry leaving her when the opposing team gains some major yardage. “If they score again, we’re doomed.”

My stomach is in knots, and I bet I look just like Sienna because I want to hurl too. This is awful.

We’re both silent, never looking away from the field. One of the defensive linemen knocks the ball right out of the hands of the opposing team’s receiver, and Sienna jumps to her feet, screaming her approval. And eventually, when the other team decides to try for a field goal, the kicker sends it spiraling into the air ...

Only to hit the goalpost and fall to the right of it.

The referee makes it official—the field goal is no good.

Now we’re both on our feet, jumping up and down. I can feel the blonde and her friend glaring at our show of enthusiasm—she’s been doing that a lot this game, but I’ve learned to ignore her—and I laugh when Sienna yanks me into her arms, hugging me.

“We have a shot,” she murmurs close to my ear. “A little over three minutes to go. If we score, we’ll be up by a point.”

“But what if the other team gets the ball and has time to score again?” Now I’m chewing on my fingernail, ruining the team-colors manicure I gave myself last night.

“We’ll deal with that if the moment comes.” I love how she talks like she’s part of the team and out on that field playing the game with them.

We sit in agonizing anticipation as our offense runs onto the field and gets into position. Gavin calls out a bunch of words and things that don’t make much sense to me, and then someone hikes him the ball. He stands there, arm cocked back, ball clutched in his hand as he surveys the field in front of him. He throws the ball, and it sails through the air in a perfect spiral.

I’m breathless watching that ball, Sienna clutching my arm so tightly it feels like she’s cutting off circulation, and when it lands in Nico’s hands, I exhale roughly in a loud scream.

Nico runs it down the field, defensive players trying their hardest to stop him, but they can’t. He slithers out of their grasping hands, fast as lightning as he barrels down the field and straight into the end zone.

We’re hopping up and down and clutching each other along with everyone else in the stadium. The crowd screams with joy, and Nico is doing a little dance in the end zone, Coop eventually joining him and slapping the back of his helmet.

I’m grinning and hollering at the same time, and when I glance over at Sienna, I find that she’s smiling just as wide as me. This is a moment. One I probably will never forget.

“There’s still ninety seconds left,” Sienna says once we’ve all calmed down and our kicker got the extra point. “As long as they can’t score, we’ll be good.”

I’ve paid enough attention to know that ninety seconds can stretch into five minutes, and that’s dangerous. “Is that enough time for them to score?”

“Maybe.” She’s hedging. “Probably.”

“Ugh.” I slump in my seat. “This is so nerve racking. I don’t know how you can stand watching these games.”

“You’re going to find out because I’m dragging you to every single game I go to,” Sienna says.

I don’t know if I’ll be able to survive. Watching them play is stressful.

The first few seconds are good. Our defense blocks the other team, not allowing them much yardage. One of our guys even sacks the quarterback just as he’s about to throw the ball, but there’s still too much time on the clock.

And all that time, even if it’s only seconds, makes me nervous.

The entire stadium is on edge. I can feel it in the air. Taste it even. I’m leaning forward in my seat, my gaze finding Nico standing on the sideline, Gavin and Coop beside him, their backs to me. I wish I could see their faces, but then again maybe I don’t want to see them. They might look worried.

I’m worried enough.

The quarterback throws the ball, and Sienna grabs my arm, squeezing tight as the ball flies through the air, only to land in ...

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