Page 38 of Tackle Me

Jake moves fast across the field. He dodges and weaves, then, with a powerful kick, he scores another touchdown for the team. The stadium explodes in a cacophony of hoots, and I find myself screaming along with them, my heart swelling with pride.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Tyler. He and Jake seem to be keeping their distance on the field, a silent tension between them. But right now, all that matters is the game, the thrill of competition, not their fight from a few nights ago.

For the first time, I understand the addiction to sports games. It’s not just about football, but about being part of something bigger.

As the time ticks away, the Eagles are in the lead by one score. I realize how much this moment means, not just to Jake and his team, but to me as well. I’m part of this, part of his world, and it feels exhilarating to belong.

The final minutes of the game have me sitting on the edge of my seat, taking in every move. The opposing team scores, and now the teams are tied again. Feels as though the entire stadium is holding its breath.

Time seems to stand still as Ryan, with a deft flick of his wrist, sends the football spiraling through the air in a perfect arch. My heart races, thumping loudly in my chest as I watch, my hands clenched tightly in nervous anticipation. The stadium is silent, every eye fixed on the ball’s trajectory.

The ball descends gracefully. In an extraordinary reaction, Jake makes a lightning-fast catch and springs into action. The crowd gasps, caught off guard by the unexpected move.

He dodges an opponent with a swift sidestep, his eyes fixed on the end zone. Another player lunges at him, but Jake slips away, his movements fast and agile. The opposition players close in, but Jake charges forward like a bull, breaking through their grasp with sheer determination and strength.

I’m not even sure if I’m breathing while watching him from how wound up I feel.

He barrels through one final defender, pushing past with unstoppable force. With the goal line in sight, he sprints forward and darts across into the end zone, scoring the winning touchdown just as the clock runs out.

The stadium erupts into an uproar of shouts and applause, the energy electrifying. Fans jump to their feet, yelling and celebrating the incredible victory. The Eagles have won. I’m up on my feet, dancing and celebrating with Sarah and everyone else.

Watching Jake play fills me with an indescribable sense of admiration. I adore the guy. He’s more than just a player on the field; he’s a damn force of nature. His teammates swarm around him, lifting him into the air in celebration, and I can’t stop smiling at him. He’s got his helmet off and smiling so broadly, it takes everything in me not to rush down there to his side.

“Fuck yes!” Sarah blurts out.

“We won!”

The stadium bursts into a deafening roar of elation around us. Sarah and I leap to our feet, cheering wildly, the energy and excitement intoxicating.

“Jake just scored the final point, and they won the game!” I scream out. My Jake. My boyfriend. The realization of his achievement sends a wave of pride through me.

His teammates lift Jake onto their shoulders, parading him around the field like a conquering hero. The cheerleaders are right there, performing their routine energetically.

My gazes scan the crowd, and I spot my dad. He’s beaming, pride evident in how he congratulates the team, shaking their hands, patting their backs. Seeing him so happy, so caught up in the celebration, warms my heart.

The team eventually starts to make their way off the field, disappearing from sight amid the throngs of people.

I turn to Sarah. “Let’s go down. I want to see Jake once he’s finished.”

We start making our way down the stands, but with the stadium packed, it’s a slow and frustrating process. It feels like an eternity, navigating through the excited crowd, and I can’t help groaning at the wait.

“Move already,” I mutter under my breath, my eagerness to see Jake growing with each passing minute.

Half an hour later, we make it out from the crowds. Sarah excuses herself to go see one of her boyfriends, leaving me to rush toward the locker room where the local players are likely debriefing, showering, and celebrating. The anticipation of meeting Jake, especially after such an exhilarating win, has me vibrating with excitement. If today keeps being so amazing, maybe that good luck will rub on my band’s gig tonight.

As time ticks by, the crowd starts to thin out, but there’s still no sign of Jake. The door to the locker room finally swings open, and boisterous players from the Eagles emerge, laughing and talking animatedly. My eyes dart among them, searching for Jake, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Confusion starts to set in. Did I miss him?

With a growing sense of unease, I step inside the locker room, a place I know is strictly for the players.

“Jake?” I call out, standing at the doorway, my voice echoing slightly in the now-quieter space.

No response. Pulling out my phone, I dial his number, hoping to hear his voice, to find out where he is, but it goes straight to voicemail. My heart sinks a little. Why isn’t he answering? Did something happen?

The locker room is almost empty now, the sounds of celebration fading into the background. I take a few steps inside, my eyes scanning the room, looking for any sign of Jake. Lockers are open, towels and sports gear scattered around, but there’s no sign of him.

I try calling again, my fingers trembling slightly as I press the phone to my ear, hoping for an answer this time. But again, it’s just his voicemail greeting. This isn’t like Jake. He wouldn’t just leave without saying anything, not after a game like this, not without letting me know. Not when we were going to head off to my gig right after the game.

The uneasy knot in my stomach tightens as I stand there, lost in my thoughts. Suddenly, Ryan comes around the corner from the showers, dressed in jeans and a shirt, his hair still wet, looking almost as startled to see me as I am to see him.

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