Chapter Twenty Five

Blue shirt, gold belt, blue jeans. Surrounded by hundreds of other students all decked in school colors, I blend easily into the crowd, invisible. Just like always.

My hair is swept into a high ponytail, every strand pulled away from my face, as I scan the crowd with my eyes. Hyperactive students, bouncing on their heels in excitement, file into the stadium, whose volume already stands at a feverish pitch. It's the last and the most anticipated game of the season – St. Xavier verses its nemesis, Coldwater.

After what seem to be hours, my eyes finally land on the person I've been searching for. I breathe out a sigh of relief.

Khaki pants, flowery blouse, black-rimmed glasses settled smoothly on her nose, she stands to the side of the line. A notepad is clutched in her hand.

I push my way through the crowd to the woman, sticking my hand out when I reach her. "Hi! I'm Clarissa Fray, the girl who called you?"

The woman's eyes light up in recognition. "Oh, yes! Clarissa. I'm Imogen, the sports recruiter for Cornell. It's a pleasure to meet you."

I smile up at Imogen, who seems to be in her early forties. "The pleasure's all mine," I say sweetly, like I've heard the phrase on television. "Come on, I've saved us seats in the front."

We squeeze through the masses of bodies, finally making it to the front of the field. The seats I've chosen are three from the bottom and in full view of the entire field.

"Great spot," Imogen comments.

I nod awkwardly, as if I hadn't spent the last hour trying out every single chair in the stadium, searching for the perfect one. We make small chitchat until the whistle blows, and the players begin to jog in through the sides of the stadium. When Jace streams through the doors, the crowd, especially the girls behind us, go wild, screaming at the top of their lungs.

Jace turns, tosses a brief winsome smile at the crowd, before jostling another player as everyone bent into a huddle.

"Is that him?" Imogen has to bend close to be heard.

I can't help but feel a surge of pride as I answer, "The one and only Jace Wayland."

When the game begins, I finally realize exactly why girls fall head over heels in love with Jace Wayland without even knowing him. He literally commands the soccer field.

It's a tight game between the two evenly matched teams, but Jace easily stands out as the star player. He kicks ass. He flies across the field, assisting, passing, dribbling. His feet are butterfly wings, darting here, there, in front, behind, hooking the ball and easily deceiving the Coldwater players.

Most of all, he is so mouthwatering gorgeous my eyes hurts to even look at him. Instead, I try to focus on Alec and the other players, but on their own volition, my traitorous eyes find themselves drifting back to Jace every five seconds.

And when he drives the ball into the goal with a flying corner kick, I completely forget who I am and jump up screaming without abandon.

Like another crazy fangirl falling in love with him.

…

He's sprinting this way, the ball in his possession when suddenly he stumbles. The ball gets stolen, and the whole mass of players streak down the field.

Coach Herondale screams bloody murder at Jace, the crowd groans, and even Imogen stifles a disappointed sigh. But Jace doesn't react. He's standing there, stiffly on the field, his expression morphing from masks of shock, disbelief, bitterness, anger, and finally settling on one that is wary and cold.

Because he's looking directly at me.

My heart's already been clawed through, but the holes in it hurt from seeing him like this around me. I miss how we used to be. How he used to look at me.

He stands there frozen until Herondale's holler register and he sprints off without another glance.

I know what he must be thinking: Who does she think she is? Does she really believe that I'll just forgive her just because she finally got off her lazy ass and came to my game?

I'm not here to get him back, though. I'm not even here hoping for his forgiveness. I'm here to give him what he's always deserved.

A scholarship to Cornell.

It's alright if he's still angry. Or even if he never wants to talk to me again. Everything is fine as long as his dream is guaranteed, because I know that he'll excel at it. Maybe sometime in the future, he'll be the next Lionel Messi.

"Are you in a fight with your boyfriend?" Imogen asks, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"No," I cringe. "And he's not my boyfriend."

"Oh, sorry," she apologizes, scribbling something about Jace's excellent tactics on a notepad. "It's just that the look he gave you made it seem like you guys had history."

Damn right we had history. We had the best history anyone could have had, until I'd screwed it all up. "Well, I messed up."

Imogen glances at me. "And this is your way of repaying him?"

"What? No!"

Shit.

I try to backpedal. "It's not like that, I promise!" I panic. "Jace deserves this. I'm not doing – "

She smiles softly. "Don't worry. I'm glad you called me, or else we would have missed this talented player. I'm thinking that maybe Cornell should start scouting here." She tilts her notepad a bit, acting like it's just another random gesture, but I know it's so I can see what she wrote.

And I almost scream with joy.

Full scholarship.

…

The sky's dark by the time the last of the crowd drifts away after congratulating our players. It's the final game of the season, and people linger with their goodbyes until next year. While the players clap each other on the back and stretch in the grass, Imogen and I exchange goodbyes, and I thank her countlessly for coming.

I start towards the exit, keeping my eyes on Imogen as she walks onto the field. Instead of exiting, though, I slink into the shadows.

Imogen stops Coach Herondale as he passes her, and I watch as the Coach steps back in surprise, laughs nervously, and then yells Jace's name. My boy jogs over easily, hair wet from the water doused on it. In that moment, with the sky dusky and dark, the stadium empty, the sweaty, dirty soccer players goofing around on the sidelines, I miss him so, so much. My feet itch to step out of the shadows, my fingers to catch the droplets falling from his hair.

Jace jerks backwards as Coach introduces them, but a moment later, he regains his composure, sticking out his hand, a brilliant, easy smile spreading across his face. The first genuine smile I've seen since our incident. He's nodding as they all disappear into the locker room.

I watch them until their forms are no longer visible, and then I slip away.

And for the first time in a long time, I actually feel happy myself.

Story's wrapping up! Only 3 more chapters left.

Review! :)