Noah

Third quarter, their offense scored on a busted coverage. 21–14. Crowd groaned. Clear Springs’ section went nuts.

On the sideline, my muscles thrummed with restless energy. Every time we got the ball, I dug in harder. Hit harder. Drove my guy off the line like he’d insulted my family.

Somewhere in the third, on a timeout, I dared a quick glance at the stands.

Jessa was still there. Standing now. Hands clenched around a foam finger, eyes glued to the field, lips moving ...