Wildcat

For the third time, Dad nearly tripped over me as he moved down the display. He was reading something and not looking at me, which was fine, because I wasn’t looking at him either. I was on my phone, checking to see if Damion West had been spotted on campus yet. I wasn’t planning to seek him out and stage a run-in, but I wasn’t going to not try to run into him if I could.

“Luna, are you okay?” Dad asked as he moved his foot off of mine. “Sorry. I wasn’t watching.”

“It’s fine. I wasn’t either.”

“If you’re really that bored,” Dad said, “we can leave and find something else to do on campus.” As he said it, he was eyeing the other displays he hadn’t looked at yet. There was a hunger in his eyes, and I could see it as clear as day.

So, as much as I really did want to get the heck out of this collegiate football museum, I said, “No, Dad. It’s fine. I know you were excited to visit, so you keep reading. I’ll just be looking at my phone, and I’ll try to pay more attention.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

He shrugged and smiled at me. “Thanks, kid.”

After I made sure Dad had gone back to reading his football displays, I went back to my phone, texting my best friend, Carly. “No one has updated the university web page in, like, an hour, and I am dying for some news!”

Her response was quick. “So, no sign of your quarterback crush then, I take it?”

I huffed, even as I smiled at my phone. “No, and it’s not fair. He was pretty much the whole reason I came to this game with my dad.”

“You’re not fooling anybody,” Carly shot back. “I know you gave him those tickets for his birthday because you love the Bobcats as much as he does. You’d be there, Damion West or not.”

“Yeah. Okay. You’re right. Still, there’s no sign of him yet! Why?”

I could basically read the shrug in Carly’s message when she replied, “He’s probably hiding out in the locker room or something just to avoid you.” Then she sent a laughing emoji. “Seriously, though, I’ll bet you almost anything he’ll be spotted somewhere soon. Then, you can ask him out on that date you’ve been talking about for ages. Try to be patient. Only five hours ‘til game time!”

I rolled my eyes at my phone, my thumbs flying. “Yeah. Right. He wouldn’t want to go out on a date with me, and I casually mentioned it one time. He can have his pick of any girl, and besides, no one knows if he’s dating or not. I’m happy to just be a fan.”

“He’d be lucky to date you! You’re beautiful, and you have a firecracker personality.”

I smiled. Carly was always in my corner, no questions asked.

“Now, quit texting me and spend some time with your dad for his birthday!” she wrote. “I’ll keep an eye on the university page, and if I see anything about Damion, I’ll text you. Have fun!”

“Thanks,” I answered, adding in a little heart emoji. “Enjoy being lame and watching the game from your couch!”

Carly merely sent back an emoji with its tongue out, and I didn’t respond, instead pocketing my phone.

I glanced at Dad. He was still engrossed in the displays and had only moved to the back of the free-standing display case since I’d last checked. I did my best to hold in a sigh. It wasn’t that I begrudged him his time in the museum. Football was important to him, and I was glad there was a campus museum all about Bobcat football history. It was part of the reason we’d come to campus so early. It was just that I, personally, couldn’t find a single thing to enjoy about smelly football pads and old, tattered jerseys that had once belonged to players I’d never heard of. Yes, I was a fan of the Bobcats, a big fan, but I was only twenty-two. College football history was not my thing.

I looked around, my gaze finding the wall of student artwork toward the back of the museum. Each piece featured one of the current players, and every one had been done by an on-campus student. I’d looked at them all once, but looking at them again had to be more interesting than standing here.

Nudging Dad, I nodded toward the art wall. “I’m gonna go look at the drawings again. I’ll find you when I’m done.”

He nodded without looking up. “Okay. Have fun. I won’t go far.”

I grinned, shaking my head as I walked away. I was sure he wouldn’t. He’d probably be standing in the exact same spot when I was done.

Moving to the art display, I let my eyes roam over each of the pieces, taking them in one by one. Each was spectacular, and they all had a different focus. Some were done in pencil—like one showing a football after a long and muddy game, one of our receivers crouched beside it—some in gorgeous watercolor—like one showing a ripped and stained linebacker jersey—and some were a delightful mix of bold and bright oils—like one showing a tight end’s excitement after a hard-won victory.

It was this last category in the display which happened to be my favorite, in part because I was always drawn to color and in part because I was very drawn to Damion West, who just so happened to be featured in that set.

The artist who had done him obviously had a similar feeling about him as they had captured each detail of him perfectly. Their piece was a close-up of Damion’s face, his mouth open in one of those roars he always let out when he did something spectacular. The artist had caught the glint in his eye, the little curl of his upper lip, the wrinkles around his eyes, and the cute little scrunch of his nose.

Immediately upon seeing the art for the first time, I had taken a picture of it so I could look at it more later, and my eyes quickly slipped back to it, no matter how hard I tried to give the other artworks equal appreciation. Damion West was a work of art in real life, and whomever had worked on his piece had done an amazing job.

I couldn’t put a finger on exactly what it was that made Damion so special, but from the first time that I’d seen a photo of him on his signing day, I’d known that he would be my favorite Bobcats quarterback of all time. He certainly had a winning air about him, a confidence in the way he walked and talked that spoke to me, but there was something else, too. I chalked it up to his being genuine. Whenever a reporter asked him a question, he always seemed to answer authentically, giving the glory for his wins on the field to his coaches and teammates and accepting responsibility for their losses. Even after a year of play for the Bobcats and a run at the national championship, he hadn’t lost his humble attitude and his dedication to hard work. It had just been my luck that the Bobcats’ season opener had landed on my dad’s birthday, and I’d been able to score fairly cheap but good tickets so we could both go to our first game.

My love for the Bobcats was all my dad’s fault. He’d been cheering for them for as long as I could remember, in good seasons and bad, and I’d followed in his footsteps, becoming an avid fan by the time I was eight or nine years old. Some of my best memories with my dad were of sitting in the living room with the game on, cheering at the top of our lungs when the team scored and yelling out our frustrations when things weren’t going our way. So, it had been a no-brainer, then, when the schedule was announced, to decide to take my dad to a game. I’d always wanted to take him. I was just lucky that the opportunity had come during Damion’s stint as our quarterback.

I spent several long minutes looking at that painting of Damion, memorizing every inch of his face. Not that I didn’t already have most of it memorized from watching him win time and time again the previous season. But it was good to study him in such vibrant color, and I kept my eyes trained on the artwork for several long minutes before turning back to Dad. I was right. He hadn’t moved.

I cast around, looking for something else—anything else—that I could look at, but seeing nothing interesting, I decided the only thing left to do was go back to Dad and wait. So, I did, nudging him on my way.

He glanced up at me and smiled. “Hey, kid. Back so soon?”

I snorted, pulling my phone from my pocket to verify. Just as I’d suspected. “It’s been almost fifteen minutes, Dad.”

His cheeks blushed ever so slightly, and his blue eyes sparkled at me as he smiled. “Oh. Well, felt like fifteen seconds to me.”

“I’m sure,” I answered, leaning over to pat his back.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to—”

“No. You keep looking. I’m doing fine.”

He nodded and went back to whatever boring Bobcat football fact he’d been reading.

Deciding it was a good time to check the university Facebook page again for an update on Damion’s whereabouts, I tucked a lock of my blonde hair behind my ear and began navigating. It only took me a few clicks to get to the page. My heart was racing. Maybe there’s been a new post!

I quickly deflated when the same article about one of our linebackers’ injuries popped up as the top post. Uuugh! Where is Damion?

Even though I knew it wouldn’t help, I scrolled back to the top of the page and pulled my thumb down, making the page refresh. I couldn’t resist.

Once the page stopped loading, I scrolled back down, my eyes already searching for “linebacker” and “injuries.” To my surprise, though, the first thing I saw was “Damion West,” and my heart skipped a beat.

An update! Finally!

I couldn’t click on Read More… fast enough!

“Getting ready for the season opener is never easy,” the post read. “And no one takes game day more seriously than Damion West, our school’s star quarterback. Though no one has seen him all day, Damion was just spotted, heading toward the sporting complex. With only four and a half hours before game time, our star is almost definitely ready for a gentle pre-workout and to get his head in the right place. He knows there’s a lot riding on tonight’s game, and we believe he’s going to set an upbeat, excited tone for this new football season. Go Bobcats!”

I almost couldn’t believe my eyes, and I read the whole post over again, just to be sure. Damion is headed toward the sporting complex. I’m in the sporting complex! Does that mean I have the chance to bump into him, and I don’t even have to try? I could barely contain my excitement.

Me, Luna Brown, could potentially meet the perhaps cutest and most out-of-my-league guy on the face of the planet—something a lot of other fans my age dreamed of—and I wouldn’t even have to try! I wouldn’t have to put on the act that so many other girls did, hanging out until I saw him and then walking across his path in hopes I’d catch his eye. That always made me cringe. Maybe I wouldn’t have to fall into him just to get him to look at me!

As I was reading the Facebook post one more time, trying to convince myself that it was real, I suddenly felt someone stepping into me with quite a lot of force, and I had just a split second to move my eyes from my phone to see who had hit me before I was falling.

My dad. Like me, he’d been so caught up in what he was reading that he hadn’t paid attention to where I was. And this time, he’d full on knocked me over.

Like father, like daughter.

I was bracing myself to hit the floor when a pair of strong arms caught me, one putting pressure into the small of my back while the other grabbed around my upper arm, wrinkling the sleeve of my blue Bobcats jersey. Looking up, my eyes met deep, dark brown pools, gorgeous eyes that I would recognize anywhere.

Damion West.

I could barely breathe.

I just fell into the arms of Damion West!

With easy strength, he set me back on my feet, giving me a hard look and muttering something about watching where he was going. Then, he headed off again at a brisk pace, his dark, curly hair bouncing, his arms bulging, his legs looking fine as ever in his black gym shorts.

I watched him go, frowning at his back.

Behind me, Dad said, “Luna! Oh, my gosh, kid. Are you okay? Was that Damion West?”

“I’m fine,” I assured him, not turning my head. “And yes. It was.” I had just fallen into the arms of Damion West, and he was…mad at me?

Well, that wouldn’t do. It wasn’t as though I had fallen on purpose. After only a split second’s thought, I took off after him, calling out, “Damion! Wait!”

To my surprise, he spun on his heel, turning to look at me. “What?”

“I’m sorry I fell into you,” I said when I’d reached him. He had very nearly gotten out of the dimly-lit museum area and was poised to push open a door marked “Bobcat Team and Staff Only.”

“Yeah,” he said shortly, voice gruff. “I’ll bet you are.”

I frowned. “Do you think I fell into you on purpose?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t everybody?”

“No!” I huffed. “It was an accident! My dad was busy reading some museum display stuff, and I was busy reading a…” Facebook post about you, my brain helpfully finished. But there was no way I was saying that out loud. “…a thing on Facebook,” I finished lamely. “He stepped into me, and I fell. End of story. You just happened to be there.”

He snorted. “Sure. I just happened to be there when you decided to fall.”

“No,” I retorted. “You just happened to be in the way when my dad bumped into me. That’s all. Sorry I bothered you. Good luck with the game.” Then, it was my turn to walk away.

“Wait,” he said. “Hey, blondie. Wait.”

“What?” I asked, spinning on my heel this time.

“Sorry. That’s not really fair of me. I’m sure it was an accident. I’m just used to, um, to girls doing that on purpose.”

“I know. But I really wasn’t trying to run into you.” Even though it is a dream come true.

This time, he actually smiled, and I knew it was genuine because I saw the glimmer in his eyes. Then, he tilted his chin in the direction I was headed. “That your dad?”

I nodded.

“What’s his name?”

“Austin. Austin Brown.”

“I need you to tell him thank you for me,” Damion said, moving further into my space.

I felt my heart speed up. “Why?”

“Because. Since he ran into you, I got to meet you. You, um…” He trailed off, looking at me searchingly.

“Luna.”

“Luna. That’s beautiful.”

I swallowed hard, looking up into his eyes. They were different now, sharing an expression that I had never seen him wear before. His gaze seemed darker now, his eyes hooded and focused on…something. Focused on…

Oh, my gosh. I think I might be sick.

Focused on me.

“Th-Thank you,” I managed to stutter.

“You staying for the game tonight?” he asked, and his voice was deeper now, huskier than I’d ever heard it before. It was making me feel things, things I’d thought might only be wishful thinking before. Things like, Oh, my gosh, I think I have the biggest crush ever on Damion West.

“Yeah,” I said, my mouth dry and tongue feeling thick in my mouth.

“After it’s over, win or lose,” he said, “do you wanna get some ice cream with me, maybe? Or maybe a Slurpee or something?” He swallowed, glancing up and behind me for just a second as he pulled me even closer, wrapping his long, strong arms around my waist. “And I guess if your dad’s around, you could bring him, too.” He paused, frowning. “Do you go here? I’ve never seen you before…”

How was I going to survive having him this close to me?

“I don’t go here. I attend somewhere else. Um, online. I’m just a fan. And my dad… Um, he could go back to our hotel room. Or-or something.”

Damion grinned, and it was so like his grin on the field that I swooned. “Good. Cuz I was hoping it could just be the two of us. Like a date.”

“A date?”

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

I swallowed. “Yeah. It’s, um, it’s more than okay.”

“Good. I’ll find you after. Wait for me.” Then he bent a little closer and whispered, “I think you’re beautiful.” Moments later, he’d kissed my cheek gently and was vanishing behind the nearby door.

I felt lightheaded. What had just happened? A date with Damion West? I had to be dreaming…

To my left, Dad was saying something to me, but I couldn’t hear him. Instead, I pulled out my phone to text Carly.

“You’re not going to believe this, but I think I just got a date with Damion West!”