Chapter Nine
The crowd cheered in waves. The game was being filmed this time by national television and the team supporters who were attending the game had been instructed to cheer in a wave pattern. There were going to be scouts in the bleachers, and Margie’s heart was pounding again. There was no doubt about it, Lance was going to be spotted, handpicked for a National League team.
She was in one of his jerseys, her hair tied up but her curls tumbling down over the back of her neck.
She cheered loudly as Lance kicked the team to victory. Bryan, at the other end of the seats, leaned forward to pass her a smile. Margie nodded in response. She decided she was going to warm to him.
Lance was on the shoulders of his teammates again and he caught her eye. Margie blew him a kiss and he mimed a catch and then rubbed it on his cheeks. Margie’s smile widened and she covered her mouth as she laughed. They’d been together for three months already, college was nearing its end and each day was better and better with him.
She watched as the cheerleaders swarmed the field now and Chloe ran right towards Lance. He leaned in towards her from above, still on top of two of his teammates’ shoulders and gave her a quick hug. Margie felt a jealous tug somewhere at the bottom of her heart, but he looked up immediately towards her and smiled. He was telling her that she had nothing to worry about. Lance was a man very much in love, and he was in love with her.
“He’s proven me wrong.” Claire’s voice interrupted her thoughts. It was Claire’s first game, and she had agreed to accompany Margie after days of pleading.
The buzz in the crowd had caught on to her as well. Claire was standing and clapping now, just like everyone else. Hank, the Arts Major from the bar, was beside her, equally converted on his first attendance of a football game.
“Your boyfriend is quite the performer,” Hank leaned forward to say, and Margie couldn’t help but laugh. She agreed. If there was ever a performer, it was Lance Healy.
People everywhere were blowing horns and waving big foam thumbs in the air, and Margie found confetti stuck to her hair now. This was going to be her life now, she was going to attend his games and watch on proudly as Lance took his team to victory after victory.
“Here she comes.” Claire nudged Margie with her elbow just as Chloe appeared behind them.
“We won!” Chloe shrieked, right into Margie’s ear.
“We did!” Margie said excitedly, and Chloe shocked her with a tight hug.
“What’s the deal with her then?” Claire asked as they watched Chloe walk down the seats towards Bryan and the other guys.
“Nothing. She still hangs around Lance a lot, but she knows she doesn’t really stand a chance with him. She’s kind of nice to me, though. So as long as she doesn’t throw herself at him anymore, I have no complaints,” Margie said with a sigh and a smile.
“You’ll have to deal with that a lot, though,” Claire said, rolling her eyes at Chloe, who was now hugging Bryan tightly. “Fangirls throwing themselves at Lance,” Claire added.
Margie sighed and shrugged. That is what she had signed up for with Lance as a boyfriend, she knew that.
“I consider myself lucky,” she said with another shrug. Claire pointed ahead and Margie turned to look. Lance had broken away from his team and was climbing the short distance through the bleachers towards her now.
“You are very lucky. And he’s a lucky guy to have you,” Claire said, clapping again as the crowd cheered for Lance as he made his way to Margie.
Margie’s heart was beating fast. Lance was coming to her. She was important to him, more than the game and more than the cheers.
“We won!” he said, just as he came up to her and lifted her up in his arms to give her a twirl.
“We won!” she repeated after him and leaned in for a kiss.
“Let’s get out of here?” he asked, gripping her waist tightly.
“What about celebrating with your teammates?” she asked, and Lance laughed.
“They’ll understand,” he said, planting a kiss on her belly.
“We’re leaving, Claire. I’m abducting your friend,” he said, turning to Claire and Hank.
Margie couldn’t do anything else other than blush a bright red.
*****
THE END