“HOLY SHIT, HOLY shit, holy shit–”

Eleanor repeats the words beneath her breath, clenching onto my wrist in suspense as Henry breaches the Vipers’ defense line.

“Come on, Henry…”

My jaw is clenched tight as he nears the end zone. Various players clad it neon green are at his heels, reaching out in a desperate attempt to keep Henry from scoring the winning touchdown.

“Quarterback Henry Anderson is only a few yards from the NCAA Championship! Will he make it there, folks?”

The turf shimmers with a golden hue under the evening sunlight, and my heart races in anticipation as Henry seamlessly glides across it. Out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly notice Todd Watson’s number trailing by the sideline, keeping up pace with Henry’s sprint. I may be imagining it, but I swear, in that exact same moment, Henry notices him, too.

“Number 83, Henry Anderson, is just a few seconds from making the TU Titans the NCAA Champ– wait a minute, folks, Captain Henry Anderson has just passed the ball to receiver Todd Watson at the 10-yard line!”

“What is he doing?!” Eleanor screeches, her mouth agape as Todd flawlessly catches the ball in his palm and turns towards the nearby end zone.

A gentle smirk curls at the edge of my lips.

He's being the captain.

The crowd around us bursts into thunderous cheers as Todd scores the winning touchdown. Fans and players alike jump up and down in pure excitement, hollering and hugging one another.

“The Texas University Titans have just become this year’s NCAA Champions right here in their home, Mason Field!”

“Come on, Georgie,” Eleanor urges, gripping onto my bicep and pulling me through the stands. “Let’s get you on that field.”

The turf is moist and scraggly from the game as we make our way towards the Titans, who are all huddled in excitement around Todd. A deep and genuine smile is etched into his flushed cheeks as his team celebrates their win and, no matter how much I despise him, I can’t help but smile myself.

“There’s my good luck charm,” Henry rasps, wrapping his muscular arms around my waist and spinning me around.

“Wait a minute,” he continues, one brow raised in confusion. “Is this the jersey I gave you?”

He wraps a fist around the crisp “83” plastered across my chest, a look of amusement in his eyes.

“Yes,” I reply, sheepishly.

Why is it so embarrassing to admit how much I like him? Well… love him.

“I could’ve sworn you burned this thing ages ago. I thought I’d never see it again.”

He laughs heartily in that sweet, boyish way. His cheeks are sweaty and bright red, emphasized by his dimpled smile. His straight, white teeth glimmer in the low light of the setting sun, with slightly curled pieces of damp hair falling gently onto his forehead.

He is so perfect.

“I don’t know,” I smirk. “I guess part of me knew it’d come in handy one day. You know, to sell on eBay or something.”

“Yeah right, princess.” He winks at me, sending my heart fluttering.

“Dude, get over here! Everyone’s gonna help Watson climb the goalpost for his victory picture.” Jonah shakes Henry’s shoulders in excitement, causing us both to stumble as he holds me.

“I’ll be right there,” Henry calls back to him, though Jonah is already halfway down the field to join the others.

He looks at me, a soft and vulnerable twinkle in his eyes, as if he’s asking me if it’s okay to join his teammates.

“Go ahead,” I reply, climbing off of him and pushing him gently in their direction. “Wait, Henry--”

He stops, turning to look at me. Golden beams of sunlight shoot from behind him, illuminating his tall and muscular frame in a hazy glow. My breath catches as I take him in and, for a moment, I wonder if this has all been a dream.

How could a boy like him be in love with me?

“I saw what you did for Watson. To make him see that he’s a part of a team. Henry, you’re an incredible captain.”

He smiles at me softly before approaching me once again, this time much more slowly and deliberately. Without a word, he places his palms against my cheeks and pulls me into a kiss. The scent of his cologne is peppered with notes of fresh grass and worn leather, enveloping me in its warmth as I breathe him in.

“I love you, Georgia,” he whispers as our lips part, just loudly enough for me to hear.

“I love you too,Anderson – now go lead your team up that goalpost.”