Prologue

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"The Tigers have won their first home game!" The announcer's voice booms throughout the stadium.

The crowd goes wild, the cheerleaders jump up and down, and the football players form a huddle in the middle of the field to cheer themselves on. I've been going to football games for as long as I can remember. My older brother, Devin, is a running back and a pretty darn good one at that. Our dad has had this dream of him getting an athletic scholarship for football and making it to the professional league. Sometimes I think our dad pushes him too hard to be the best, but he knows his limits. Nothing good has come out of over competitive parents—I have seen way too many movies to second that notion.

As my parents continue to clap, my eyes find their way to Zach "Fergie" Ferguson. Everyone calls him Fergie because it's a shortened version of his last name. I don't know why but I find it incredibly attractive. Fergie has been best friends with my brother since they were little. They practically rolled around in diapers together—at least that's what our parents always tell us. I have had a crush on Fergie ever since he tended to my wounds when I fell off my bike in the second grade. His mom is a nurse, so I guess he learned a few things from her. My little seven year old heart has been fond of him ever since.

"I'm gonna go start up the car." My mama says.

"Alright, I'ma wait right here and congratulate Devin." My dad nods his head.

"You coming with me?" She asks me.

"Nah, I'll stay right here, too." I shake my head.

I really just want an excuse to talk to Fergie, even if it is for a split second. If Devin comes our way, then Fergie is definitely going to follow behind him. They are like two peas in a pod. They barely go anywhere without each other.

We patiently wait for Devin to jog over to us. I stand corrected when I see Fergie walking behind him. Fergie looks so hot with his hair drenched in sweat and his dirty football attire. There is something about his worn out look that attracts me. He can literally make anything look good.

"Good game, son!" My dad pats Devin on the back. "You too, Fergie. Y'all are unstoppable."

"Thanks, pops." Devin smiles.

"Thanks, Mr. Jones." Fergie smiles and I swear it makes things a little brighter.

Fergie looks at me for a split second—I guess he expects me to say something too—and my heart skips a beat. Every time I'm near him, I become this over anxious, clumsy girl. He has that affect on girls. He's so charming. He's not a douchebag either, like most good-looking guys. He's very humble and I think that's one of the traits I admire most about him. 

"Yeah, good game, guys." I nod my head.

"Thanks, sis." Devin tries to hug me but I push him away because he stinks. It may be chilly outside, but that doesn't stop hardworking football players from sweating.

"Your mama went to go warm up the car. Does the team have something going on afterwards?" My dad asks. Translation: are you going to a party?

"Nah, I was gonna come back home. Fergie can come over, right?"

Shoo.

That boy can come over any day, any time, I think to myself.

"Yeah, well we're about to head out." My dad says.

"We have to go to the locker room for a quick team meeting. I'll be home soon."

"Okay." My dad nods his head. The guys follow their team to the locker room and I follow my dad to the car.

Who knew this one night would change everything?

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