A hard thump to my side threw me off-balance. I careened around, stumbling backward, my hands suddenly way too empty, just in time to see Whitt dive on the ball and smother it with his body. A roar went up from the crowd as Whitt was helped up. He punched a victorious fist in the air that might as well have landed in my gut. I’d fucking fumbled the ball mere yards from the end zone. No touchdown. No glory. Not a damn thing except humiliation and defeat that settled over me like a lead blanket. “Shake it off.” Cross knocked me in the shoulder as I gasped for air. “C’mon.”
I have never watched football and yet I’m also so heated for you!!
