Chapter 14
**Author's Note: Okay, if I sound like an idiot when I'm talking about the football part. . . ignore it. I, unfortunately, don't know much about this game, and so when it comes to technical stuff, I'm just talking out of my butt. Otherwise, enjoy! J

"Oh, God, this is too much," Isabelle muttered, climbing out of the brand new used car she and her mother had just purchased. She slipped on her sunglasses in hopes of warding off the dauntingly extravagant red and white decorations that bathed the grounds of T.C. Williams High School. Signs of good luck and encouragement towards their state bound football team sickened Isabelle to the stomach, for it only brought her memories of that wretched night not so long ago. She trudged through the excited crowd and colorful garlands to get to her locker, desperately trying to avoid Gerry, who was standing right by his own locker.
"Lord, if I can just make it through today without being eaten alive, I'll devote my life to you and become a nun," she murmured, as she spun the dial of her locker. Before she could even pop open the door, a dreadfully familiar voice came from behind her.
"Why, is that a promise, Miss Isabelle?"
She turned around to find Emma and Gladys; smug looks painting their pretty faces. Emma crossed her arms as a small smile tugged at her lips.
"Shut up, Emma," she groaned, as she turned to face her locker. "If it's about Gerry, he's all yours as far as I'm concerned. Any guy who cheats on me, obviously doesn't care much about me. Therefore, I have no reason to stay in a relationship with him." Isabelle shut her locker before turning around again. "So, all right. Fine. You won. Now, will you leave me alone?"

"Uh oh, looks like Emma's causing quite a stir over there," Alan said nervously, as he watched the two girls by Isabelle's locker. He glanced up at Gerry, who was busy pretending to look busy. Ever since that night, he just didn't know what to do with himself anymore-she was all he ever thought about.
"Oh, Isabelle can hold her own. If anything, it would be Emma I'd be worried about," Julius assured.
"But, I'm going to check it out anyway," Gerry said with finality, as he closed his locker and charged through the crowd. Just as Isabelle had left, he approached a triumphant Emma. "What's going on?"
"Oh, hi, Gerry," Emma purred, sidling up to him. Damn, he smells good, she thought. And he's so nice and warm and strong. There ain't no way I'm losing him to Isabelle again.
"Hey, Gerry," Gladys smiled, "Emma was just. . . having a little chat with Miss Brooke."
He eyed the two girls suspiciously. "About what?"
"Well, Ger," Emma started, slipping her arm around his waist, "I was just setting the record straight about you and me."
He furrowed his eyebrows and slowly pulled himself out of her embrace. "Emma, there ain't a 'you and me' anymore. We broke up, remember?"
"Well, yes," she started, panic slowly rising in her voice, "but you two broke up that night. And she just said that she. . . didn't see a reason as to. . . why she should have a relationship with you."
He narrowed his eyes and backed away slowly. "In the first place, I don't believe you. And if that were the case, I won't accept it. I KNOW Isabelle still cares about me. And even if we were broken up, there's still no way you and I would ever get back together. Especially not after the way I've seen you operate."
Emma sputtered and tried to explain herself to Gerry, but her attempts were drowned out in the crowded hallways as Gerry stormed away.

"And the Titans take the field. . ."
Isabelle leaned forward and snapped the radio off. It was the night of the State Championships, and the game was just about to begin. Isabelle sat in the car with her mother, as they headed towards the airport, the gloomy skies matching her mood to the tee. Her mother had called Mr. Brooke up to forewarn him of his daughter's sour mood, and so when he last spoke to her on the phone, he tried to cheer her up with a shopping trip to Rodeo Drive. When that failed miserably, he took a breath and asked her,
"Why don't you just stay in Virginia now, and come visit me next weekend?"
Isabelle was initially stunned. Her father never threw appointments around his schedule, family or business alike. What the heck was going on?
"I don't understand," Isabelle had said slowly.
"Isabelle, honey," he started out, "when you were in your coma, I saw firsthand how much Gerry cares about you. He deserves your time and attention more than I do."
Isabelle smiled inwardly, but then groaned at the cruel irony. "Oh, well, that's great, Dad. Except now, I don't think I really want to go see him anymore. It's a long sordid story, but in short, he's a cheating son of a-"
"ISABELLE!"
She cringed at the shocked voices of her mother behind her and her father on the phone. "Look, Dad, I promised you I'd be there, and I will. I'll see you in a couple days."
Now, as Isabelle hugged her mother good bye at the terminal, and made her way onto the plane, a sick feeling began to settle at the pit of her stomach. She boarded and made her way down the aisle to her seat, ignoring the disgruntled looks of the passengers she had to climb over.
Gerry really is a good guy, isn't he? Isabelle thought as she made herself comfortable. He's kind and gentle and thoughtful. . . and pretty darn cute in that uniform of his. And a great kisser. She caught a glimpse of her dreamy face in the window next to her, and watched her pink lips sink into a deep frown. But he was cheating on me, she thought. With Emma, nonetheless. Or was he? Sunshine did tell me that Emma forced herself onto him. . . Am I making a mistake?
Isabelle shook her head as more passengers boarded the plane. She blocked their noisiness and continued to think, It's just a football game. He'll get over it, right? No, Isabelle. It's more than that. Even though you may think it's just another game, it means the world to him. Am I making a mistake? Isabelle glanced up to see the flight attendants making last minute checks and the door of the plane prepare to close. Her eyes widened. Yes, I am making a mistake.
She bolted from her seat and yelled, "Wait! Stop! Stop! Hold the door! Wait! Please! I have to get off!"

"She's not here. She's really not here," he said dejectedly, scanning the crowds one last time.
"Yeah, yeah. Look, Superman, I'm really sorry and everything, and I'll be more than happy to-yeah! Go Petey!-lend you an ear. . .AFTER the game. Come on, Bertier, it's STATE! We've been working our butts off to get here. Now shut up, and pay attention."
Gerry eyed Julius. He knew his friend was right, but he still could not ignore the miserable feeling that settled in his chest. Not having Isabelle with him tonight simply crushed his spirits. However, on the field is where he took all his frustrations out, and the coaches couldn't help but notice the extra aggression in Gerry's playing that night.
Suddenly, Gerry looked up to find Julius grabbing his arm, trying to drag him onto the field. "Let's GO, Bertier." Gerry hauled himself to where his other teammates were standing in a huddle and was surprised to find out that this was the last play. When he glanced at the scoreboard, he was surprised to see that this play ultimately determined who would win or who would lose.
"Okay," Boone said, "nothing fancy. Just go out there and do the play I've been telling you to do. The only difference is, Bertier, I've got a hunch they're gonna pass it up to Smith, number forty-seven. Now, you don't block his sorry ass, we lose, you hear?! And if you don't-"
"Uh, okay, that's enough, Herman," Yoast interjected. "Look, boys, Coach Boone told you what to do. Now, just do it. Play your hearts out and try your best. Now, go get 'em!"
As Gerry took his position on the field, he felt all his depression slip away, only to be replaced by a vengeful aggression. He glared at the player in front of him, and steadily trained his eyes on him. He felt the cool, smooth dirt under his fingertips and waited for their quarterback's signal. Instantly, Gerry bolted up and sure enough, the ball found its way into the arms of his man. Smith breezed past him, but Gerry was hot on his tail, and as they neared the end zone, he poured in even more speed. Then, within a split second, he nailed Smith to the ground.
The next few moments were a blur, but before he knew it, there was a loud eruption of cheering from the Titans' side. His teammates crowded around him as their coaches accepted their trophy, and they celebrated in the middle of the field. As he tried to grasp everything that was going on around him-his friends jumping around with triumph, people yelling and cheering, and lights flashing off from photographers-reporters edged their way into the team circle. One of them shoved a microphone in Gerry's face and asked him,
"How does it feel to have basically won the game for your team?"
He smiled, "Well, first of all, we all won the game-it wasn't all me. And second, it feels great to have won." He paused when the memories of Isabelle cam flooding back to him, and he added, "but not as great as I hoped it would be."

As a rambunctious Titan bus pulled up into the T.C. Williams parking lot, students swarmed them, cheering and celebrating like crazy. It was well past midnight, but no one seemed ready to go to sleep. One by one, as each player descended the bus, they were enveloped into a sea of pats on the back and "Congratulations!" greetings.
"So, what are you going to do, Bertier?" Petey asked, when he caught up with Gerry. "Want to head into town with me, Blue, and Alan?"
Gerry shook his head. "No. Actually, I think I'm going to head home."
"HOME?! Man, are you crazy? We just won a game we've been dreaming about since we were little, and you're going home?! No way!"
Gerry shrugged. "I'm just not up for it, man. But, you go on and have fun. I'll catch you later."
As the celebration continued in the parking lot, Gerry slowly walked to the other side of the campus where his car was. He slung his bag over his shoulder and trudged across the newly cut grass until he found the smaller, slightly illuminated parking lot. It was deserted, save a few other cars, but it was otherwise desolate. He approached his car and opened the front door, swinging his belongings into the backseat. He was about to climb in when
"That was some game."
He spun around to find Isabelle standing a few yards behind him. She stood timidly, gripping her purse with both hands. Her dark curls tumbled across her face as she glanced down, waiting for him to respond.
"Isabelle," he murmured. "What are you doing here?"
She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "I finally realized that my place was here. With you."
"And California?" he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.
"California comes later."
He quickly closed the gap between them and scooped her up in his arms. "But, this comes now." He set her down and kissed her deeply, pressing her body against his possessively. When they let go, he kept his arms around her waist, and she kept hers around his neck. "When did you get to the game?" he asked.
"Well, I was on the plane when the game was just about starting. But, I managed to get there just as half time ended."
Gerry smiled widely. "Your mom was at the game. Does she know you're here?"
She shook her head. "Nope. When I got to the stadium, I was in such a rush, that I accidentally ended up in the opponent's side of the stadium. It's a wonder I managed to make it out alive after cheering you guys on like mad!"
He laughed heartily. "Only you, Isabelle." He paused and then looked at her impishly. "So, did you see that great tackle I made at the end of the game?"
Isabelle grinned as she brought him down closer to her. "Oh, yes. And don't think you'll go un-rewarded."

"Hey, guys, I found his car. Maybe he's. . . in it?"
Julius, Rev, Louie and Sunshine stopped abruptly outside of Gerry's car.
"I dunno," Louie said, "the windows are all fogged up."
Sunshine snickered. "Well, there's only one way fix this problem, right?" He wiped down the glass and then jumped back in surprise. "Whoa, there!"
Gerry and Isabelle looked out of the now clear window and were suddenly startled. They both climbed out of the car flushed, disheveled, and out of breath, to face their friends.
"Uh, hey, guys. What's up?" Isabelle asked, trying to sound casual.
Rev patted her shoulder. "Great you could make the game. Your mom said she saw you wandering around the crowd, and when she couldn't find you herself, she enlisted us. She has something to tell you."
She stared with confusion at the end of the parking lot where Coach Yoast and the now Ms. James were fast approaching.
"Hey, Mom, Coach Yoast. What's going on?"
"Yeah," Gerry chipped in, eyeing his friends, "we were kind of busy."
Ms. James smiled brightly at her daughter and then at Yoast. "Isabelle," she started slowly, "Bill and I are engaged!"