I stood and pointed at the middle of my shirt where there were hearts and his number.

He probably should have told the guy he was playing catch with that he wasn’t paying attention because the football hit him in the chest.

“Epic.” Gabe laughed. “Do yourself a favor, Kiersten, just sit throughout the entire game. Wouldn’t want him getting a concussion.”

I bit my lip to keep from smiling like a lunatic — it didn’t work. I was gone, done for, I was his. And I wanted everyone to know it.

The announcer came on the loud speaker as the players lined up.

By the time the color guard played the National Anthem I was an absolute nervous wreck. I’d picked off every last bit of my nail polish and was starting in on biting the nails completely off, when Gabe grabbed my right hand and put it under his leg so he was sitting on it.

“Seriously, you’re making me nervous and I have to stay sober tonight, so for the love of God stop fidgeting!” He glared.

“Fine.” I took a few deep breaths and concentrated on the players as they ran out onto the field. I knew football. I mean, not super well, but I knew enough to know what was going on. The team kicked, they returned, and then when it was time for the offense to go out, Wes would run out, get some plays done and win the game. End of story.

The team kicked and with that my heart soared. How was I ever going to make it through more than one game with Wes playing out there? My hand fidgeted under Gabe’s leg.

He swore and reached into his pocket and thrust a stick of gum in my face. “Chew. It’ll help, promise.”

I greedily took the gum and began chewing like my life depended on it.

“Right.” Gabe took my trash. “Try not to bite your tongue off. Wes will never forgive me if you aren’t in shape for kissing.”

I elbowed him but didn’t take my eyes off the game. The offense ran out. Wes turned quickly and waved in my direction.

He was fine. He looked fine. Everything was going to be fine.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

I knew something was wrong when the vision blurred in my right eye. I shook it off and pressed on. I had to win. For some reason I was envisioning the game as my battle with cancer; if I lost, I lost everything. I had to win. I had to.

Weston

I shook my head again, the blurriness cleared from my eyes. The medication was causing way more side effects than I imagined. I met the guys in the huddle and called the play. It was a trick play, one that was kind of risky for the beginning of a game, but we wanted to throw the Cougars off. Damn, I hated the Cougars, all Huskies did. I even hated their colors.

“Ready? Break!” I ran to the center and called, “Red twenty-nine, left, Red twenty-nine left, hut, hut!”

The football sailed into my hands. I dropped back as if I was throwing long, and then did a fake throw to the right, while running to the left. Tony blocked ahead of me, five yards… ten… fifteen. A lineman tried grabbing my ankle, but I jumped over him and ran all the way to the twenty yard line.

“Good run!” Tony slapped my back. My vision blurred, this time it stayed. Shit and double shit. I tried shaking my head, but it wouldn’t clear. I could see figures but they were blurry. Everything was blurry, but I could still see the ball, and my breathing was normal. I was going to keep playing. I had to.

We scored easily and so began the hardest game of my life.

Each time I shook my head the vision got worse. By the time the fourth quarter was rolling around I felt like I had drunk a whole bottle of tequila. My vision wasn’t clear and my balance was so terrible that I had to focus on each step I took.

We were ahead by so much that Coach took me out to give the second string quarterback some experience. I think he saw that I was fading. I sat on the bench and pretended to be really into the game, which was hard considering all I could think about were the spots now invading my vision. Not good. It felt like I had a migraine coming on, but I couldn’t be sure. Maybe I had overdone it. The good news was the game was already over so it didn’t matter anymore.

I just wanted to lie down with a cold compress against my head — well, I wanted that and to hold Kiersten, but I knew if she saw me like this she would know what was wrong. We had a Homecoming party to go to tonight — I wasn’t sure I would make it.

I took another few sips of water and closed my eyes, hoping the rest would make it better.

Another few minutes went by and Coach came up beside me and slapped me on the shoulder. “You want to do one last play?”

I knew what he was asking.

One last play before my bleak future went black. His guess was as good as mine as to if I’d live to see a football again. Black spots or no black spots, I needed to do this.

I stood on shaky legs and made my way out onto the field amidst the screams from the fans. Damn, I’d miss it. I’d miss the feel of running out onto the field, the buzz of excitement.

With a sigh I turned and saw Kiersten on her feet yelling. I blinked, my vision returned just enough for me to see her waving frantically. Her shirt had a heart on it. Hell, she had no idea the encouragement that gave me, but Gabe did. I blew her a kiss then nodded my head to him.

I could have sworn he yelled, ”Give ’em hell!”

Laughing, I shakily made my way to the huddle. We’d already won, so now it was time to show off. I called a fake play in order to get the other team offsides and decided to do the exact same trick play Boise State had done in the Fiesta bowl a few years back.

As I suspected, the team fell for it, gaining us five yards. My heart thundered in my chest. Everything felt heavy, as if someone had put a piano on top of me. I took a few deep breaths and called the play.

“Baby blue, baby blue, BSU, hut!” When I fell back, I stumbled, tripped or something. I wasn’t really sure, but that pause was enough for me to see a lineman heading straight for me. I was too late. My vision blurred then went completely black as I felt myself falling backward against the ground.

The last thing I remembered was thinking I never told her I loved her, and that sucked, because she needed to know — I would die, was probably dying, and the last thought in my mind, the last word that blew across my lips was “Kiersten.”

Chapter Forty

Can a person’s heart shatter in their chest? Because I think mine just did…

Kiersten

“Something’s wrong.” Gabe clenched my hand in his and watched as Wes stumbled out onto the field. He ran like he was drunk, maybe he was just trying to show off and be funny.

I shrugged. “He wouldn’t go out there if something was wrong.”

Gabe snorted. “Then you don’t know how guys work.” He waved his hands above his head trying to gain the coach’s attention. “Shit!” He pushed me toward the chairs and jumped onto the field running to the coach. I was still trying to figure out what the hell his problem was when I saw it.

The ball fell from Wes’s hands. He wavered on his feet and collapsed onto the field.

I could have sworn the entire stadium fell into silence as I screamed. Lisa held me in her arms while frantically looking at Gabe who was cussing out the coach.

The coach ran toward the field, players looked at each other in confusion. And I knew in that moment that Wes had lied.

It wasn’t diabetes.

It couldn’t be.

Something was wrong and he hadn’t told me. Nobody just passed out on the field like that. He was strong, wasn’t he? He was healthy, right?

I held my breath as doctors rushed onto the field. I prayed. I prayed hard that Wes would move, that I would see his fingers drum onto the grass or that he would jump into the air and start laughing like it was some giant joke. I didn’t realize I was crying until Lisa handed me a tissue from her purse.