“Is that bad?” Reese asked, clutching his arm as if she thought it had to be bad.

“Not bad. Just riskier,” Pick answered her, rubbing his hands up and down Eva’s shoulders like some kind of good-luck charm.

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I glanced around at our group and just grinned, feeling elated and hopeful. It was nice being here with them. Since moving in with Ten and Quinn and openly dating Quinn, they’d accepted me with no qualms at all, even though they all knew who my sister was and what she’d done. For the first time in my life, I was genuinely liked and welcomed as one of them. I had friends.

Next to me, Asher leaned close and murmured into my ear, “What’s a two-point conversion again?”

I laughed and started to point out the different players and explain it to him, but Noel had already snapped the ball and the play had begun. Forgetting my explanation, I watched as he hand-passed the pigskin to Quinn, and Quinn dove into a pile of defenders. I held my breath, waiting with seven thousand other people to see if he’d crossed the line for the two extra points.

When a referee swiped out his hands, indicating the points were no good, Caroline clutched her face and wailed, “No!”

On the other side of Aspen, her two younger brothers hollered their disappointment just as loudly.

“It’s okay,” I reassured them. “It’s okay. We’re still tied.”

We still had time on the clock to make more points, even if it was time for the other team to take possession of the ball. We could just keep them from scoring and then go into overtime to win.

But we still had three and a half minutes left, so I wasn’t worried. A lot could happen in three and a half minutes.

All the players, except one, stood and trotted off the field to switch teams.

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“Someone’s hurt,” Eva announced. “Who’s hurt?”

We could tell it was one of our players by the color of the jersey. I immediately scanned the field for Quinn’s number. When I spotted him next to Ten, I blew out a relieved breath...until a frantic Aspen asked, “Where’s Noel? I don’t see Noel anywhere.”

“He’s the one who’s hurt,” Caroline uttered, suddenly pale.

I grabbed her hand and she squeezed back.

Aspen gasped and immediately covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.”

Reese and Eva rubbed her shoulders supportively from behind while Noel’s brother’s pointed when Noel bent his knee and the coaches helped him sit upright.

“Oh, thank God,” Aspen breathed out.

But I could tell Noel wasn’t completely fine. His legs could work because he stood up and everyone clapped as he hobbled to the sidelines, but he carried his shoulder all wrong.

For the next couple of plays, the ESU defense held the other team back, but not enough to keep them from scoring a field goal, putting us three points behind. All the while, Quinn and Ten—who were strictly offensive players—huddled around Noel, where he sat on a bench and had trainers working all around him.

When it was time for the offence to take the field again, Noel, the leading quarterback, did not join them. A minute and forty-eight seconds remained on the clock, and their second-string backup had to step in for him. Quinn had to step in for him.

“Oh my God,” I uttered, covering my mouth as my stomach instantly began to churn. The divisional championships now rested on my boyfriend’s shoulders.

Aspen’s phone chimed. She checked the text. “It’s from Noel. Oh God. He says they think he broke his collarbone. They’re going to take him to the hospital.”

“Well, let’s go then,” Caroline announced. “We can meet him there.”

Noel’s family and even Eva, Pick, Mason and Reese all gathered their things to leave. “Zoey?” Caroline asked, glancing at me to silently ask if I was coming.

But I shook my head. Quinn had just been thrust into the spot of quarterback at the most crucial time ever. I couldn’t leave him now.

“I...I’m going to stay.”

Asher took my hand. “I’ll stick around with her and bring her over once the game’s done.”

Caroline nodded, and then she was gone, hurrying away to follow her family.

I glanced up at Asher. He sent me a bolstering smile. “So, I know squat about football, but I can tell your man just got put in the hot seat, right?”

“Right,” I said.

The catcher who’d taken on the punt had tried to run for it, only getting us to the fifteen-yard line. I chewed my nails as a huddle formed around Quinn and he pointed out the next game plan to them.

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