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Clash(70)

By:Nicole Williams


Lou was right. I’d have to be fast.

“My name’s Lucy,” I began, my voice breaking. I cleared it.

Just pretend you’re talking to no one else but Jude.

“And once upon a time I fell in love with this guy.” The stadium went silent as everyone took their seats to the Lucy Larson Gut Spilling Show. “He wasn’t exactly a fairy tale prince. But I’m no fairy tale princess.” I paused, reminding myself to breathe. This would all be for nothing if I passed out from oxygen deprivation. “He didn’t ride in on a white horse or say all the right things at just the right time. But he was my prince. He would have been the kind I wrote about if I’d written all those fairy tales.”

I noticed a couple of security guards reach for their walkie talkies, mumbling something into them with stern faces. Hurry, Lucy.

“That man made me feel things I never imagined could be felt. He made me want things I wasn’t sure I could have. He made me need things I didn’t know existed.”

My voice was getting stronger as the words started spilling from me. Everything I’d needed to say for so long was finally having its day.

“He made me happy. He made me crazy. He made me thank the heavens for the day I’d met him. He made me curse the same heavens for the day I’d met him.” I smiled, a slew of memories flashing through my mind.

“I screwed up. He screwed up. I was sure I couldn’t live without him. I was just as sure he’d be the death of me. I was confused.” Straddling the fifty, I completed one revolution, waiting for number seventeen to be running across the field at me. No smiling faces were coming for me yet.

I had more to make up for. I only hoped it would be enough.

“We rode this roller coaster. Up, down, and around and around, and just as soon as I was sure it was coming to a stop and we could get off of it once and for all, we repeated the same ride all over again. I didn’t think I wanted to be a passenger on that ride anymore, so I got off, leaving him to ride it alone.”

A couple of guards nodded into their walkies before pocketing them and coming onto the field for me. I did another survey of the field.

Where was he?

“Then we shared one amazing night in a hospital room and I knew everything would be all right. And then doubt crept back into my mind and I knew nothing would be all right. So I left him. I hurt him.” A single phantom tear I hadn’t known was there skied down my cheek.

Ignoring the guards making their way towards me, I looked into the stands. Beyond what I’d expected, more faces were formed into sympathy than judgment.

It turns out, I wasn’t the only one who screwed love up.

“But then this morning, over a sleepless night and a pot of coffee, someone knocked some sense into me. Thanks, mom,” I said, waving at the camera that was tracking me. “I realized I’d never really gotten off that roller coaster, we were just riding in different cars. My life is a roller coaster whether or not I am sitting next to this boy, and I’d rather share this crazy journey through life with him at my side.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I busted into the finale because I had maybe ten seconds before I would be escorted off the field. Hopefully not in cuffs.

“I’m done leaving. I’m done questioning if we can do this thing, Jude.”

Cheering rose up in the stands as fans began to realize their star quarterback was who this screw-loose girl was talking about.

“I’m done pretending I’ll ever love someone else as much as I do you. I know it took me a while, but I know it now. I was made to love you. I was made to share my life with you. I’m rewriting the fairy tale so you and I get to ride off together.” I paused again to get a breath, scanning the field.

He wasn’t coming. Even if he’d been tucked away into the very back of the stadium, he could have made it to me by now if he wanted to. Nothing stopped Jude from what he wanted. The possibility that I wasn’t what he wanted any more broke me.

I fought through the fear. I was done living in a state of it.

“I love you, Jude Ryder. I’m done letting that scare me. I’m not going anywhere.”

One of the security guards stopped in front of me, clearing his throat. “Yes, ma’am. I’m afraid you are.”

This was so not how I’d envisioned this all going. I gave life‌—‌smirking its all-knowing face at me‌—‌the finger.

“I’ll take that,” he said, grabbing the mic out of my hands. “After you,” he said, which was every shade of a demand, motioning me off the field.

The other guard shouldered up next to me, waiting for me as well. At least neither one was swinging a pair of cuffs in front of me. Taking one more look around the field, I felt my already battered heart break one final time.