Jessa

Fridays at Ridgeville always buzzed different.

You could feel it the second you walked into the halls — the hum of nerves, the smell of fresh paint on the “GO TIGERS” banner, the sound of sneakers squeaking against polished floors.

Game day.

For most people, that meant face paint, pep rallies, and fake excitement to get through the last few classes before kickoff.

For me, it meant trying not to look like I was counting down the hours until Noah and Jackson got on that ...