For a second I was afraid he wasn't going to get up, but he did, shaking it off, trotting back to the huddle. It was first and goal, five seconds were...left on the clock, and we were out of time outs.I jittered around on the sideline at about the thirty yard line, and then broke into a run, sprinting down the sideline, rounding the end line to stand at the end of the field, directly under the goal posts amidst a throng of photographers and who knows who else.For some reason they all backed away. Would this be too far? Would he say something? Would he not? No, there was no way he could not react. Was she being too forward? Would he think she was a slut? There were a million reasons not to send it, but most of them meant nothing to her. She hit send to take the choice away from herself. “Done.”She bit her lip all the way down to breakfast, floating in a dizzy cloud checking her phone for his response. She waited an agonizing minute. With a sigh, she gave up and started heading to the. More

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