Page 27 of Good Guy Gabe

Do I want to come over? What if everyone else there is friends with Allore or Morales? I don’t want to mess things up with the team or worse, get Gabe in trouble.

“It’s the adrenaline,” Mel says, “and the wins feel amazing for it. And if they lose, I’ll give Drew a blow job in the parking lot, and that’ll make him feel better. So you gotta look at it that way.”

Despite the mess I made of Gabe’s seat last weekend, I don’t think I’m at the blowies-in-the-parking-lot phase of our relationship, but I’ve got this bag of cookies.

The boys get themselves back in position as the play clock ticks down. Gabe waits until almost the very last second — literally two seconds left — before passing the ball off to Blaise, setting the play in motion.

He spreads his arms wide, taking on two of the Patriots’ defensive linemen, freeing up another offensive lineman to shoot off to the side. Blaise takes several steps back as he scans the field, looking for his target.

Mel screams as Drew takes down a defensive player, but that knocks him out of position to take the ball.

I’m watching the middle of the field, stressing about Gabe, especially when one of his targets breaks free and charges for Blaise, still holding the ball. I barely notice the streak of deep red dashing toward the end zone with two white shirts chasing as best as they can.

Blaise fires the ball off just as the guy that slipped past Gabe slams into him. My heart flutters. I’m worried he’s not getting back up.

Cora starts shrieking, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” and it’s enough for me to look to the other end of the field.

Merrick has the ball, and he is running for his life, hugging the sideline so if the men chasing him get to him, he’ll be knocked out of bounds and stop the clock.

That clock is ticking, though. I don’t know if they’ll have enough time for another play.

One of the Pats leaps through the air, attempting to knock him down. They manage to get an ankle, and Cora lets out a weak gasp, only to scream, “Yeah!” as Merrick slips past and keeps running. The other Pat has to jump over his teammate, but it’s too late for them.

The crowd goes wild as Merrick sprints into the end zone and spikes the ball.

They won.

Holy crap.

They won.

Our whole section is filled with family members cheering and hugging and crying. I’m not there, but not because I don’t feel what they’re feeling. Or, I don’t know if I am, but I’m so overwhelmed that I’m stuck in my spot. From our position at theend zone, by the tunnel, I can see almost the entire stadium, tens of thousands of people, sharing this same experience with us, all feeling this same sensation of triumph, like together we’ve gone through some harrowing battle and we’ve all won together. Like we’re a part of this thing they’re doing on the field.

There are so many of us in the stands, but it’s really the eleven men on the field. They did this, and now they’re being swapped out for the men who will make sure that Huang can get that extra point. Tens of thousands of people are cheering for them. Who knows how many people are watching at home? It’s incredible.

I look over to Cora, and I swear she has hearts in her eyes. I’m not sure who they’re for, but I’m thinking next time she’s here, she’s going to be rocking some deely-bobbers or a halo. I’m doubting it’ll be the devil horns that Merrick’s Menace girls wear, but the thought of that has me laughing.

“What’s so funny?” she asks.

“Nothing. Everything? I don’t know if I like football, but my goodness, that was . . . that was something. I feel like I’m gonna need yoga to get through the next game.”

“But you’re gonna be at the next game?” Wren asks as she waves down to the field, where Huang has just kicked that extra point and has paused to tap his face guard and wave back.

I think he just blew her a kiss. That’s pretty much the sweetest thing ever.

“Yeah, if he invites me.”

“Oh, he’s gonna invite you.”

“Why do you say that?” Yes, I absolutely think he’ll invite me, but I didn’t think the feelings between us were so obvious.

“He did ruin the Kick-Off Gala because Emily Hess said he couldn’t date you.”

I shake my head, confused. “No, that was Blaise. He attacked Gabe out of nowhere. It was nuts. Yelled something crazy about a barbecue and threw a punch.”

Wren laughs at that even as she takes my hand for the very final play. Donnie Thompson, the punter, kicks the ball into Pats territory. “Barbecue Express. It was a play they did last year that was a total mess but worked because the Raiders were too confused to figure out where the ball was going, but it’s one of those things that can’t be done often because everyone covered it so heavily and prepared for it after that.”

One of the Pats catches the ball and starts running.

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