Zip, Zero, Zilch
Page 64

 Tammy Falkner

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I crawl out of my cubby and wipe my face. Everyone is at the table playing poker. Marta looks at me with her eyes shining. “All done?” she asks.
I nod and sniff back a tear. I look at Logan. “Can I have that ticket?”
He pulls it out of his back pocket and grins at me. “I’ll see you there?” he asks.
Oh, yes, he will most definitely see me there. The whole world is going to see me.
Sam
It feels funny playing again. I stretch my leg and try not to hop on it. It’s not even tender, but my trainer says I have a tendency to lay off it, and I’m sure he’s right.
We run onto the field and I can’t keep from looking into the stands. I sent her a ticket via Logan, but I really don’t expect her to use it. Hell, I wouldn’t use it if I was her. I would tell me to go fuck myself after the way I acted. I deserve it. But my heart stalls a little when I see her empty seat. Logan and Emily are here, and all of her sisters used their tickets. I wave at them from the sidelines and point to her empty seat. Star shrugs her shoulders and grimaces. Emilio holds up his fist like he wants to hit me again. I still have a black eye from the last time.
I head to gather with my team on the sidelines.
It’s cold and my breath comes out in tiny little puffs of steam. Wherever Peck is, I hope she has a coat. The whistle blows and the clock starts, and I no longer have time to think about her. I think about football. I get to hit people. And knock people down. I get to run and play this sport I love, professionally. I am lucky and I know it.
But I still wish she was here.
Peck
The guy looks like I’m inconveniencing him, but I don’t care. I had to grease some serious palms to get this to work.
“There’s a two-minute warning time out right before the end of the half. The cameras will go to a commercial, but I can get you on the Jumbotron. You’ll have about forty-five seconds. That’s all. Nothing more. After that, the play will resume. So he won’t see anything you have to say after that.”
“I got it.”
My palms are sweaty, and even though it’s really cold out tonight, I’m hot all over. I’m nervous. So nervous. What if he doesn’t care? What if he doesn’t want me to make a grand gesture? What if…
I shake my head. Mrs. Derricks believed I could do this. She believed I could be fearless, and she was never wrong. She was the first person who ever believed in me, and I’m not about to let her down. And I’m not going to let Sam go without a fight.
I make my way out to my seat, and I see that my sisters have already done their job because all the people sitting around are holding signs down by their feet, and they cheer when I show up. I duck my head and grin. I’m so embarrassed. A few people pat me on the shoulder as I walk into the center of them all.
“I guess they’re all ready, huh?” I ask Star.
“Primed and ready,” she says. She grins. “I am so jealous.”
I snort. “Because I’m about to make a spectacle of myself?”
Her face softens. “No, because you’re in love.”
I blink back tears.
I watch the clock, and two minutes before the two-minute warning that will signal the commercial break time out before the end of the half, everyone in our section stands up and holds their signs up above their heads. From a distance, it looks like a solid sign. The crowd in our section starts to chant, “Fifty-one! Look over here!” Stomp! Stomp! “Fifty-one! Look over here!” Stomp! Stomp!
They chant it until it spreads to other sections and people start to point and pick up the sound. You can hear it roar around the stadium. The Jumbotron picks us up, and I see my section on the big screen. The signs, when all put together, read: 51, look here!
A smaller screen near us pans to Sam. He’s pacing back and forth down the sideline, and he’s not even looking in our direction. But then one of his teammates smacks him on the shoulder and he looks toward me. He stops.
He unstraps his helmet, pulls it from his head and stares up at me.
Star motions for everyone in our section to be quiet, and they all lower their signs. Emily swipes a tear from her cheek and says, “Go for it.” Logan wraps an arm around her and Kit and holds them tight. Logan is grinning like a fool, though.
The camera guy is right in front of me. “Forty-five seconds,” he reminds me. I see my image on the big screen and one of the guys on the field points to it, so Sam looks in that direction.
I hold up my signs. I have them grouped in order, one after the other. I show the first one.
I love you, 51!
I flip to the next.
I don’t want to be just a Zero anymore.
Flip.
I want to be a Zero-plus-one.
Flip.
Or a Zero-plus-two.
Flip.
Maybe even a Zero-plus-three.
Flip.
I want to make little cupcakes with you.
Flip.
Only you.
Flip.
Forever.
Flip.
Check yes or no.
I take this last card and walk out of my section. I have hands of people I don’t even know reaching out to steady me, and they’re all saying encouraging things. The camera guy runs along behind me, cursing as he chases me down the stairs.
I run with my last card all the way down to the bottom bleacher and I lean over the side, holding it down against the concrete block wall. I pull a marker from my pocket and hold it out, too.
Then I wait. It’s the longest forty-five seconds of my life.
Sam stands completely still.