by Claire Adams
It had been a good break, and I was finally starting to really and truly relax into life once more. After a week or two, I stopped trying to hide out in my room and started to actually get involved in campus life a little more. It helped that in the time since the final game of the football season, the campus newspaper had put me onto covering the basketball team. The first game I went to, when I interviewed a few of the players afterward, one of them ventured the opinion that he had been proud of the way I’d stood up for myself with Zack, that I was an impressive woman.
I kept up with all of my classes and even started to take on a few other responsibilities on the newspaper, not just doing my own assignments but also taking some of the proofreading load off of the editors, reading through articles that came in and checking them for spelling and grammar before handing them off to the editors.
“I keep finding new reasons to thank Professor Grant for signing you on,” Lisa told me once, shaking her head at how much my additions had helped the whole team. I hadn’t been there long enough to start pitching my own article ideas; I was still on assignments handed out by the editorial staff—things that they had no one in particular to cover—but I was gaining trust and I had gotten hints that in the spring semester I would start being able to put forth my own ideas in the weekly meeting.
I hadn’t even tried to date anyone at all in the time since the disaster with Derick. I told myself that I was swearing off of boys for good and that I’d just wait until I graduated and find some actual men to involve myself with once I could get started on my career. I knew it wouldn’t last, but for the time being, it was good enough for me. I had time to hang out with Jess, and I started to become better friends with some of the staff of the newspaper; I was satisfied with that and didn’t even want to try for more.
I went into Lisa’s office after classes, ready to be told that I was going to be covering something other than the basketball team; her email to me had hinted that I was changing up duties. “Hey, here I am,” I said, opening the door to the office after knocking. “What’s the sitch, Chief?”
Lisa laughed. “Take a seat. Let me just finish this email and I’ll give you the lowdown.” I sat down and took my notebook out of my bag, watching as Lisa tapped out the last few sentences in an email in a rapid staccato. “So, Evie. As I’m sure you’re aware, we’re coming up on the championship game for the football team.”
My heart started to beat faster in my chest.
“Yeah, I’m aware of that,” I said, more because I knew she was expecting me to say something.
In the back of my mind I had been counting down the days—I knew that everyone on campus was buzzing with excitement over it. Some of the students had booked their plane tickets and the boosters were trying to get as many people to the game as possible. I knew that there were some people planning a road trip out to California where the stadium was at. I had told myself over and over again that I didn’t care, that whatever happened to the football team was barely my business, but I had been hoping against hope that I would be too busy on other assignments when the game came up.
“Well, Coach Bullden specifically requested that we send you to cover the game,” Lisa said, smiling broadly at me.
“That’s—Wow. I wouldn’t have expected that.” I felt my cheeks burning. It shouldn’t have surprised me, with the praise the coach had lavished on me for my previous coverage of the team.
“I was pretty surprised too. You must have really impressed him.” I nodded. Lisa watched me intently for a moment, tapping idly on the top of her desk. “Look, everyone on campus knows there’s been… issues with you and Zack. If you can’t handle this, let me know and I’ll tell Bullden that you’re covering something else and we can’t spare you.”
It was tempting. If I could just back out of the situation completely—if I could avoid having to go to California and face the possibility of having to confront Zack again, it would be a major relief. But I thought about the fact that Bullden had requested me specifically. And the fact that I knew I had done well in my previous articles about the team and its games. Besides, it wasn’t likely that I’d have to interview Zack—he might not even be at the game at all. I had determinedly not kept up with the drama surrounding his suspension; I had banned all mention of him from Jess.
“Is Zack going to be playing, then?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible.
“Oh yeah, he’s definitely in the game. Didn’t you hear? The investigation found out that the picture they turned in was from like, two years ago or something. They had nothing against Zack that was more recent.” The words hit me like a ton of bricks; I felt awful. I hadn’t even listened to him when he’d tried to explain.
“That’s…good to know,” I said, smiling nervously. “I’ll let you know if I can do it with my classes.” I didn’t want to even hint at the possibility that Zack’s being present at the game would deter me. Even if Lisa knew—she had mentioned it directly, after all—that I had personal issues with the star QB, I didn’t want to make that the reason that I couldn’t go.
“Just as long as you give me a couple of days to find a replacement,” Lisa said, nodding.
I stood up and left Lisa’s office, my mind a blur with different thoughts. Could I really hold it against Zack that two years ago he’d had girls all over him? How could I know whether he’d changed? I sat down on one of the benches in the Student Union, watching people pass through on their way to classes or going to club meetings. I chewed on my bottom lip, putting my notebook back into my bag and trying not to look like I was a nervous wreck. It wasn’t that the idea of seeing Zack in person was so terrible, but knowing that I had misjudged him made me feel horrible.
But had I really? Just because they didn’t have anything on Zack—no evidence that he was still partying or involved in potentially illegal activities—didn’t mean he wasn’t still the party-rager he had been. Could I really trust that he had changed?
I thought about the fact that he had tracked me down on my horrible date with Derick specifically to try and explain to me what the real situation was. I hadn’t even heard him out; I was already angry—and the way he’d gone about trying to convince me to listen to him was definitely a bad idea. But ever since then, he had left me alone—and I had avoided him. I had judged him based on the thought that the picture had been recent, and I had been wrong. He had probably already moved on. I didn’t know how I felt about that possibility; in spite of the fact that I’d been avoiding him, and the fact that I had thought I was over him, deep down I knew that there was still something unresolved between us. It wasn’t fair of me that I’d taken my initial anger at him and blown it all out of proportion, and didn’t even give him a chance to explain his side. And I may have lost him for good because of that.
I spent the rest of the day with my mind on the game and on Zack. I couldn’t really blame him if he had given up on me. It seemed like almost from the beginning of the time we’d reunited, things had been stacked against us—though I was mature enough to admit that part of that was my fault. I was afraid of getting involved with him, afraid of how easily I could fall head over heels for him. If he had given up on me, that would never be an issue; and while it was a relief to think that Zack had probably found another girl who was a little more able to deal with having a relationship with him, it also made me miserable to think that I’d ruined my chances with him for good. I only had a couple of days to think about taking the assignment. Lisa sent me an email in the afternoon detailing what the newspaper wanted for the coverage; since it was a huge game and a major opportunity, it was going to be featured on the front page of the edition, with supplemental material in the sports section. She wanted interviews with the team and backgrounds and profiles on the different players. She also wanted full coverage of the game itself for the main story. It was a lot of work; it would be great for anyone’s portfolio.
I wasn’t sure what to do. I had to let Lisa know, and soon, but I had
no idea how I was going to deal with the situation. I tried to go through my normal routines, to pay attention in my classes, but it was no use. Until I figured everything out, I was just going to continue being hopelessly distracted.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next day, I was sitting in the dorm, waiting for it to be time to get to my next class of the day—I’d had a gap between lunch and class, and of course the only way I could think to fill it was with thinking about Zack and the assignment to cover the national championship. I had told Jess that I would do it and she had given me the instructions I needed to get to the game; I would be staying at the same hotel as the team and I could bring someone with me. I also had prime seats in the enormous stadium.
Jess came into the room, practically bouncing. “So,” she said, throwing herself down onto the couch next to me, “I hear you’ve got the prime seats to the championship game.”
I rolled my eyes. “They want me to go and cover it. Apparently Bullden specifically requested me. I’m supposed to interview everyone, too.”
“So who are you taking with you? Got a date? That would be a primo way to convince a guy to help you dirty up a hotel room.”
I groaned, throwing my head back and shifting uncomfortably on the couch.
“I could just watch the game on TV and interview everyone once they get back,” I said, staring up at the ceiling.
Jess laughed. “Yeah, sure you can—and you could also hit up one of the sororities and join them. Come on, Evie. Just because you’ve got issues with Zack or whatever doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a good time. Hell, take me.”
I sighed. “I really just…” I scrubbed at my face. “So I found out—and please don’t laugh at the fact that it’s old news—but I figured out that I’d sort of…misjudged Zack.”
Jess raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we can talk about that situation now?”
I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, I found out about it and now I feel like shit because I didn’t even give him a chance to explain what the picture was, and I’m pretty sure he’s probably already moved on. I don’t want to have to see him.”
“Well, I mean, you’re going to have to move beyond that eventually, right? So just take advantage of the fact that the school is basically paying you to visit California and watch a really awesome football game.”
“If I let you come with me, you’re not going to like…try and make me go to some crazy party after, right? I mean, I just want to do what I came there or and come back.”
“Okay—how about a compromise? I won’t drag you to a party, but if I meet a guy there and want to bring him back to the hotel, or even if you do, the other one of us will hang out at the pool or wherever to give the other some privacy.”
“Are you seriously thinking of snagging a guy at the championship game?”
Jess shrugged with a little grin.
“Adrenaline pumping, excitement; win or lose, it’s pretty much a sure thing, right?”
I tried not to groan again. Sometimes I really did wonder if Jess considered going to college to be little more than an excuse to get with as many guys as she possibly could. It wasn’t fair of me—I knew she was making good grades—but sometimes it seemed like she spent more time making plans to ensnare a hot guy for a night or two than she did on her classes.
“Okay,” I said finally, thinking to myself that it was likely I would easily regret this. “Okay, fine. I will go to the game, and you can go with me. And if either of us ends up actually hooking up with somebody, we will work out how to give each other privacy. Let me borrow your ID and I’ll get the information the office needs to issue our tickets.” I shook my head. The last thing I had wanted to do was actually go to the game; but if I had to go, I thought to myself that at least it would be interesting, with Jess there with me.
CHAPTER SIX
I had thought that our stadium was impressive; when Jess and I got out of the bus carrying students to the bowl game, I was shocked at the hugeness of it. The parking lot was crawling with people—tents and campers and RVs were scattered across the place, with team colors flying on every conceivable corner, and the smell of dozens of different kinds of food filling the air. In spite of the fact that I’d been dreading going to the game and having to watch Zack, I found myself getting swept up by the excitement that everyone else was contributing to. Everyone was amped—cheering as they made their way towards the stadium, calling out to the opposing team’s fans, in a mood for a really good game. I had to wonder just how well Zack would perform; if he was going to crack under pressure, it would be a game like this where he was going to be televised across the country, where the stakes were the highest—a rare, championship game.
Jess and I split away from the group at the gate. The tickets I had as a reporter for the campus newspaper were much better than the general; it was one of the perks of the job—after all, I needed a good view of the game to report on it. As we moved through the crowds flooding through the stadium, Jess was looking around—for the best food options, for people heading to our section that might be interesting, for the possibility of getting a cheap beer where she wouldn’t be carded. I was focused entirely on the game. How would Zack perform? Would we win? I was trying to think of just how I would cover it for the article, as well. After all, the game itself was a big draw—but what story about the game would I tell? It was one of the exercises Professor Grant had us do: pick an angle on an event and try to come up with the way that you would go about writing an article from that perspective.
We finally got to our seats and I started setting up, taking out my camera to get action shots and taking a few pictures of the steadily growing crowd. Some of the people attending the game were, I knew, folks who attended the championship every year; they weren’t invested in one team over another, but came just to enjoy that particular event. There were also—obviously—those who were either students or alumni of either school, crowding the stands in seas of school colors, faces painted and banners waving. It was hard to separate myself from the intense emotions that everyone around me was obviously feeling; I could barely hear the marching band for the other team across the stadium, but they would have been loud indeed for the fans of that school—just as our school’s marching band was on our side.
I snapped pictures of the crowd, capturing a few banners. One of them made my stomach flip-flop inside of me; on our side, a bunch of girls in school color bikinis and tiny shorts were waving a hand-painted banner that read, “Win the Game and Get a Kiss, Zack!” I told myself that I didn’t care—that I had broken up with him and he was a free agent. I might have my regrets, but I couldn’t hold it against the girls that they were cheering for a single guy and probably hoping to get invited to his hotel room at the end of the night.
I started to fidget as the pre-game dragged on; dance teams for both sides were doing routines, there were the mascots to watch, and I wondered just how long it would take for the enormous stadium to clear once the game was over. Jess was already having a good time, chatting up a guy who was seated near us, teasing him about getting her a beer and a hot dog because she was a poor, broke, college student who came here on my charity. I tried not to laugh too obviously at her ruse and instead focus on what was going on around me. When is this game even going to start? I thought, with more than a little impatience. More than anything, I wanted it to be over, the victory handed to one of the teams so I could get back to the hotel room and spend the next several hours dreading the interviews I would have to do—dreading having to interview Zack.
The teams ran out—ours first, unlike the home games I had covered. I tried to keep myself from looking for him, but in an instant, I spotted Zack running out with his team mates, his away jersey spotless and vivid.
“He’s not looking too bad,” Jess commented between cheers for our team.
They started their warm ups and I tried not to watch Zack’s every movement as I caught a few pictures for the article; I tried—I really tried—to make sure I was get
ting a fair sample of the whole team in their exercises.
They took to the sidelines and the other team came onto the field, looking just as energetic and just as strong. If nothing else, I thought, it would definitely be a good game—there would be no shutouts in this match. The other team’s crowd cheered while our side booed, and my heart was pounding. I don’t care if we win, I thought to myself; it would be nice if we did—my interviews the next day with the different members of the team would go a lot more smoothly if they weren’t all mourning their loss of the game—but on a personal level, it didn’t bother me at all. I don’t care if we win, but please don’t let Zack get injured.
The entire crowd on both sides watched with bated breath as the coaches went out for the coin toss. Even though it happened at every game, there was a definite tension in the moment that was gone from other games I’d gone to. I caught as many pictures as I could of the two coaches walking up to the center of the field, waiting for the ref, and then getting the result. The flip went to the other team, and they cheered loudly enough to almost deafen our side.
I settled in to watch the game as the teams took up their positions to start. I had done my research on the team we were up against, just as I had for the previous article I had done. They were known to have an aggressive offense-based strategy, which was similar to our team’s typical M.O. I wondered if Coach Bullden had managed to turn up the heat on the defensive line, and watched with interest as the first play started. For the whole first quarter, it seemed like our team and the other team were feeling each other out—neither side scored a point, but they were right on top of each other, finding ways through the defenses, working out where the weaknesses were. Every shift in the play—whether it was a pass, an interception, or a tackle—brought cheers up from one side or the other, and I half-wished I had brought ear plugs with me to at least muffle the huge amount of noise.
