I Hate Football Players

54: View from the Cheap Seats

The way Logan's helmet shifted around the field, he anticipated the other players' moves before they flinched and stood up. His plays were quick and flashy, and he executed them as naturally as breathing. He made it look easy and toyed with his opponents, poking holes into the Cardinals' defense like Swiss cheese. He went for the long passes and made adjustments when his receivers weren't in the correct position. And not one defender brought him down, despite how hard the defense blitzed him.

I'd watched a lot of football games for Jake since I was six, and he played pee-wee. No offense to my brother, but for the first time I observed a game, awe washed through me from a football player's abilities. Jake was talented and worked hard, but Logan was purely gifted.

"He's really good." Even Harper was impressed in her special way. "Looks like the only one who can sack him is you, Elle."

"Harper!" I elbowed her. "My parents?"

Her only response was texting with a cute smile on her lips. Ryan.

Salesian was behind 7-3 with twenty seconds left in the first half. Logan lifted his team out of the deficit, but not without drama. He faked a long pass, then ran the ball for fifteen yards until he was pushed out of bounds on the Santa Cruz sidelines near the five-yard line.

Both stadium sides stood up as the players pushed and shouted at each other. The refs blew their whistles and pushed the players apart. My eyes widened at Jake's number seven being held back by his teammates, his helmetless head showing his eyes and words aimed at Logan. I squeezed Mom's trembling fingers. By her ghost-like skin tone, she needed her brown paper breathing bag. "Don't do it, Jake," I mumbled.

Jake stopped, then pointed at the scoreboard and ran his mouth. I breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped back. Logan headed back onto the field, knelt in his huddle, and set up the play. The offensive formation looked like another long pass, but he broke when the ball touched his fingers and headed straight for the end zone.

Logan outmaneuvered one defensive lineman and charged forward in a blur. One defensive tackle hooked his arms around his waist, but his legs churned. He dragged the defenseman with him over the end zone line, to the pure delight of the Salesian fans. Groans and curse words filtered up from our side, but my lips pulled into a wide smile.

After Logan celebrated with some of his teammates, his helmet looked in Jake's direction. He must've said something before he pointed at the scoreboard because the Santa Cruz bench stood up. Both sides charged in for another shoving match but were interrupted when the second quarter ended.

"Halftime," Mom said with pained eyes.

"I need to use the bathroom," I announced with a grin and turned to my best friend, who smiled at her phone and slipped it into her coat pocket. "Harper?"

"I'll get up because my ass is asleep. And I think I see Ryan." Her eyes drifted below us, and her lips formed a soft smile. Tonight, they matched the new cotton candy pink tips in her hair.

I winked and smiled suggestively at her. "Under the bleachers?"

"We're not the half-time show." She scrunched her nose up, but her smile remained. "I'd like to introduce you two if you can hold your pee long enough."

My heart soared at that suggestion. "Of course!" We stood and side-stepped our way to the end of the row, then waited behind a sea of people climbing the stairs. Getting up for any reason at halftime was the worst part of where we sat.

"There he is!" She tugged my arm and pointed to a tall, lanky, pale boy with brown hair and glasses scanning the bleachers. His face broke out into an adorable grin at her.