“We won!” I shouted, soaking up the cheers from the crowd of easily twenty-thousand people.
Brooke sat in the crowd somewhere. She was the only one I really cared about, but I lifted both arms into the air with my index fingers pointing to the sky. The fans ate it up, cheering even louder.
I made my way to the locker room with the other players. We were all exhausted, but we had won. A headhunter was in the stands from what Coach had told me.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind my last pass, which had been too high. Even if I didn’t make it to a pro team, my college career was nothing to laugh at.
Trey ran up and slapped me on my shoulder pads.
“What’s up, bro?”
“Good job keeping them away from me. Maybe we’ll get drafted on the same team next year.”
“I don’t think I’m going pro.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
We entered the hallway leading to the locker room, walking side by side. After four years of playing and living with him, it felt odd to think of our last game together.
The thought passed quickly as I thought about Brooke and our future together. No matter what happened, we would be together. After having been through so much together, we trusted each other completely with no questions asked. I would die for her, and she would do the same for me.
We loved each other.
***
I told Coach and the rest of the team I would see them later that night before leaving the locker room. Freshly dressed, I went straight to the parking lot.
Brooke sat on the hood of my black and yellow Camaro, looking as beautiful as ever. She smiled and waved as I walked over, stopping in front of her.
“You’re going to dent my hood,” I teased.
“I didn’t think you would mind.”
Her legs dangled over the side above the wheel well.
“If it’s you doing it, I don’t mind.”
I stepped in between her legs. She wrapped them around me as I leaned forward and kissed her perfect lips. We knew each other so well, each kiss reminded me of our first.
She broke away.
“Good game today.”
“Thanks. How did you do on your final? Did they post the grades yet?”
“Passed,” she said, head held high and proud.
“That’s my girl.”
“So are you ready for the draft? Skipping your bowl game?”
I shrugged. “I don’t want to skip the bowl game if we make it. I want to play with my team one more time. But I am ready for the draft. I think anyway. And you? Which med school are you going to choose?”
“I figured I’d wait to see where you got drafted. I’m kinda open to anywhere right now. I don’t graduate for another year, unlike you, I have time.”
Her eyes looked past me.
“What’s up?”