Not everything ends off on a high note

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Elizabeth's P.O.V-

The game starts.

I have to ask my father over and over again what exactly was going on. What the flag colors mean and was Andreas doing good on the field. I stopped asking the moment he told me to stop asking him questions and just use my context clues.

How do you use context clues for football? It wasn't like an essay you read and could use clues to figure out. This was based on rigorous rules and years of putting together the sport. I'll just ask Andreas when the game is over.

From what I could remember from what my father told me, Stanford's team has a good defense, with having such bigger players than ours, they could stop the ball from entering our lines time and time again. No team has scored yet, it's just them playing around, getting the lay of each other. James Logan, the newest recruit to the Stanford football team and my boyfriend's enemy, is moving so fast I can't even keep up with him.

He's good.

I hate to think that, but it's true.

Right now, Andreas is playing man coverage. Man coverage is when he has to cover the wide receiver, I remember him telling me he doesn't like it and sometimes can be a difficult thing to do. He also said it had something to do with his size.

I watch as the quarterback, who is Topolski, the guy that Andreas was sharing a room with in Washington, calls out the play. At this point, after it's done, Topolski can either throw the ball, hand it off or run with it. If he ran with it, I would be shocked. He's so far away from the line to make a touchdown, and with the Stanford guys being so fast, it would be a miracle if he made it across. Instead, he makes a forward past to the wide receiver, who Andreas is guarding.

He catches the ball successfully, and starts to run, dodging the other players. I watch with a smile on my face as Andreas staggers his feet across the field, guarding the wide receiver. The way he moves, it's so smooth and elegant, like a dance. The pacing of his feet, the width of his arms, and the grace of his back, it's so fucking attractive. The moment is short-lived once the wide receiver gets tackled and the ball tumbles on the fake green grass.

The crowd groans and moans, but it doesn't stop there.

Stanford, out of nowhere, starts scoring like crazy. Every time our team got the ball, they would take us down as fast as we received the ball. I see Andreas banging on his head, or yelling at some of his team members, some even yell at him. I know he's not doing it to be rude, or mean even, he's just frustrated like they are.

This is a huge game, if they don't win, I don't even want to think about that. They have to win.

The coach for our team calls for a timeout, and the players all run over, huddling up in a tight circle. I can't see or hear what's going on, but I know one thing: the coach is angry.

I look over to my father, from the crease lines on his forehead, he's worried. "What's going on, dad?" I asked him.

"I don't know, eggy. The team isn't doing well."

"Oh." I look down, he hears the distance in my voice. I feel his hand take mine in his.

"Eggy, that doesn't mean they will lose, it's just a tense time. It's only the first quarter, they could always pull through, miracles do happen." I want so badly to run down there, to talk with Andreas. I don't like the thought of him being stressed out and angry, and I can't do anything about it. The pressure is already on to win the game, and then with James being on the field, I can only imagine.

The coach dismisses the players and they go back onto the field, well not all of them, some stay on the bench, and others fill in for them.

I don't know what that coach said to them, but all of a sudden, they start winning. They were scoring like crazy. The crowd was happier again, the cheerleaders were flipping and jumping all over the place, and I saw all the tension in Andreas's shoulders float away.

From the way things are looking, they could win the whole game.

"Your boyfriend's an animal!" Jill screams.

She is right.

He's moving like lightning. When the team scores, he and Topolski do this weird handshake or nuzzle each other's heads. Topolski is like a brother Andreas probably wanted. I could tell he loves Katherine, but not all the time since she probably gives him hell. I can't argue with her on that one, he sometimes deserves it. Towards the bottom of the stadium, almost close to the field is where his family is sitting. He probably pulled some strings to get those seats for them. Trust me, they're good seats.

I don't know what happened, but between me thinking about how good this family's seats were and his hate-love relationship with his sister, something bad happened.

Andreas is nowhere to be seen. My eyes pan all over the field, wondering where the hell he could be. Then, I see it. A football player is laying on the ground, other players surround him. All I can see is the player's feet that are laying on the ground, his helmet is discarded on the grass. The EMTs that are typically on standby in case anything happens run onto the field. Two other paramedics carry a stretcher. Whoever is laying on that field got hurt badly, I feel for whoever it is.

I look up at the jumbo screen to see them replaying back the situation. Topolski calls the play, then he throws the ball to one of the players. The guy starts coming, then I see Andreas come across the screen, running nearby as he protects him, doing his job. Out of nowhere, one of the Stanford players barrels through the crowd and tackles Andreas to the ground.

No, that's a lie.

He knocks Andreas to the ground. They played it over and over again on the jumbo Tron like it was some joke or fun sports highlight. The hit was hard, you could tell Andreas didn't see it coming, the Stanford player got on his blindside. When this body hit the ground, you could see his arm hit at an odd angle and his neck flop to the ground.

I close my eyes, not wanting to see it.

It reminds me of the car crash. It's weird because, after the crash, I could barely remember anything, but one thing stuck. When Blake broke her back, it scarred me. She sat in front with me. When the car hit, I remember seeing her neck flop against the seat, like a rag doll that you would throw on your bed, so careless and simple. It reminds me of Andreas. I think the Jumbo Tron is still playing it, I can't open my eyes, I refuse to.

"Elizabeth, are you ok?" I hear my mother ask, worry in her voice. Her hands shake my shoulders, trying to wake me up from my impenetrable sleep.

"Is it off?"

"Is what off?" She asked, confused.

"The replay. Is the Jumbo Tron still playing Andreas?" She tells me no. I open my eyes; the screen is now blank. My eyes are glued back to the field, not wanting to look away. The football players have cleared away, showing us the situation. I see Andreas laying on the field, his body bent at a weird angle. He's not moving, and what it looks like, he isn't breathing either. I grab my father's hand, holding on for dear life.

It takes three football players to lift his body on the stretcher. All the breath from my body, the life in my eyes, and the gravity beneath my feet give out. My father catches me before I fall to the ground.

"Fuck." I hear my sister say. Teddy pulls her head in his shoulder, not wanting her to see anything.

Jill, Daniel, Connie, and Cross down below are all silent. They all just stare, shaking their heads and mumbling. Jill turns and looks at me, a grave look on her face.

Oh Eliza, is what her eyes say.

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