Chloe had accepted me back into the fold as if I’d never left: no questions asked, no apologies required. It was the same with Celeste. I was her half-sister and that’s all she needed to know to welcome me into her life unconditionally.
The music crescendoed as the team burst onto the field, tearing open the hand-painted banner. Our side of the bleachers were on their feet, clapping and cheering, but the red and white players weren’t the ones I was waiting to see.
“Remember not to cheer when they come out.” Chloe chuckled.
A quieter rumble filled the air as the Hawks walked onto the field. They were calm, collected; a solid wall of magenta and black moving as one.
My heart stalled at the sight of Nix, leading his team, moving ahead of them like a general leading his army into battle. His helmet hung loosely at his side as his long, powerful legs ate up the field. His eyes immediately scanned the crowd, finding me as if he couldn’t resist the sharp tug I also felt in my stomach.
He smiled, his whole face lighting up as if we were the only two people in the stadium. And maybe it had always been that way for me to some degree. My world had always revolved around Nix. His was the sun, the center of my universe.
Only now, I was his too.
The reality of it flowed through me, wrapping around my heart and making it flutter. Slow, steady beats that bathed me in reassurance and comfort.
“He looks good, huh?” Chloe squeezed my hand.
“Yeah,” I breathed, unable to drag my eyes off him.
He jogged over to Coach Farringdon, letting the older man pull him close and give him instructions and a pre-game pep talk. Playing DA was always a big deal, but for Nix it was even more important since it was senior year. The Hawks wouldn’t go down without a fight. But neither would the Devils.
The referee called both quarterbacks onto centerfield for the coin toss, and an eerie silence fell over the stadium until the Devils won the toss and chose to kick off first, and the place erupted again.
“Marc looks like he’s up to something,” Nate whispered.
I glanced up at him and frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Look.” He pointed to where Marc stood with some of his defensive players. To anyone else it might have looked like a captain commanding his team but I saw what Nate saw. How they watched Nix’s every move. Like a predator stalking its prey.
“What do you think they’ll do?”
“Knowing Marc, he’ll go for blood.”
“What?” I shrieked over the deafening noise. I wanted to run down there and warn Nix, but both teams were already on the field, moving into position.
“Don’t worry,” he added. “I’m sure Wilder will give as good as he gets.”
A violent shudder ran through me. I didn’t want Nix to get hurt, but I also didn’t want him to do something that would jeopardize his place on the team.
Or his chance at a way out of The Row.