I had some people request I 'write more' and ask if I planned to update TACWM ever. I plan to write when I can, but as I've said I have limited time to do so. And I do plan to update and finish TACWM, but I've been struggling with that for a while honestly. I don't know what avenue I want to take in that story. I know what my ending is; I've even written a draft of it. I'm planning a multi-part epilogue (possibly four parts, but I'm undecided on that as well). I just have to figure out how I want to get there.

I received a lot of heat in TACWM for not knowing the correct way to play football, and I do apologize for that. You'd think I'd know more about it, growing up in the south, but...well. So I did some research and did my best to do it right in this chapter. If I still got some wrong, don't attack me. I tried. Hope you enjoy regardless. -Megan

We didn't exchange many words after that, short of reviewing the plans again before going our separate ways. I opened the door into the balmy locker room, the warmth of the room immediately replacing the chill outside. The locker room was a glorified shed set on the outer parts of the football field, made up of blue-painted cement blocks and a scuffed blue and yellow floor. The lockers were also a mix of the two colors, matching the metal benches that sat in the isles between.

My teammates were dispersed throughout the room, but the biggest cluster sat on one of the benches. I sat my bag down, stripping off my jacket and digging out my jersey. Will looked up at me from where he sat beside me. "You got this?" He asked, honestly seeming not all that concerned. But I knew that underneath his blasé look, he was worried. He and I were very similar in that way. I snorted. "You doubt me? I'm hurt." But deep down, I wasn't entirely sure. He rolled his eyes in return, and that was it.

No more than twenty minutes later, every team member was dressed and heading out onto the field. We'd gone over the game plan one more time, and now we just had to hope we were as prepared as we thought we were. Still, my nerves simmered underneath the surface. I hope my face didn't show how I felt.

We all took our starting positions, waiting for the referee to give the go-ahead. As offence, we received the ball first. The ref came up to me, certifying that the ball was past the line as it should be, then nodded and blew his whistle, stepping off field. I pitched the ball back, and the field exploded into action. Will, as the receiver, caught the ball and ran with it. He made it about four yards into the opposing side before an Eagles player tackled him. Before the player got far, Jordan rescued the ball from him and continued into the opposing team's side. I ran along side him, making sure I was there to receive the ball if one of the other players got in his way. One of the opposite players made to headbutt him, and he threw the ball before he went down.

I caught it, bypassing another player that made a move at me, pounding across the field. I narrowly avoided another grab, making it less than five yards to the end zone. I threw the ball as the Eagles' quarterback brought me down. I held my breath as the ball flew through the air. It flew over the line just as the buzzer for the first quarter went off. I grinned as the crowd flew up with cheers. The other player jumped off of me with a curse. Smirking, I stood and walked off-field with the rest of the team, pulling my helmet off. The Eagles' coach had asked for a time out, and the referee called it. The opposing team huddled as their couch spoke with a red face and sharp gestures.

The cheer teams from both teams made their way onto their respective sides of the field. I caught Clary's eyes as we passed each other and grinned. She gave me the most stunning grin in return, before running to catch up with the other blue and white-clad girls. I watched her as she went, ponytail swinging with every step. Some upbeat pop music started, and all the girls started their routine. I turned to speak to Jordan when I heard gasps erupt all around me. I whipped back around in time to see Camille behind the line, arms crossed and face pinched with anger. Clary came down from a toss with no one behind her to catch her. The girls on either side of her grabbed at her legs best they could, but she still fell past them, smacking into the ground with an audible impact. I was moving before I even knew what I was doing. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest.

I skidded to a stop beside her on my knees, gathering her in my arms. She whimpered as I pulled her close, face screwed into a mask of pain. I held her close to my chest, stroking her hair. It wasn't until she gasped softly that I realized I didn't feel the normal rise and fall of her chest against mine. A crowd gathered around us, and I couldn't care any less who saw. My heart pounded as I held her close, careful not to hurt her any more than she already was. Someone had grabbed the field medic, but I just looked down at Clary's face buried in my shoulder. "You're okay. I've got you," I whispered. "You're okay."

I wasn't sure which of us I was trying to convince.