Lisa Schroeder - The Bridge from You to Me

I saw her in the stands. Lauren. The girl I wanted to get to know better until my world shattered into a million pieces.

After the interception, as I headed to the sidelines, I glanced up, and there she was. She and her cousins were hard to miss in their matching blue-and-gold hats near the front of the crowd.

Maybe I should have talked to her when she stopped me in the hall that first day, but when your heart is so full of pain and sadness, it’s hard to make room for anything else. So I told myself to let her go. Besides, she didn’t need me bringing her down.

But as I sat there on the bench, cooling off, I thought about our day together. About our walk back in time at the covered bridge. About our swing from the rope. About what she’d said.

Maybe if you score a touchdown for me, I’ll come.

I told myself if I got another chance, if I got back in the game, I’d do things right. I’d think about her, believing in me enough to dare me to score a touchdown not just once, but once every game .

And then I realized she wasn’t the only one who believed in me that way. Benny did too. I had to stop feeling sorry for myself and start being the kind of person he’d want me to be.

Seeing her there . . . it helped. It helped me a lot. It gave me the push I needed, and thankfully, I caught the pass when it really counted.

After the game, as I’m walking toward the team bus, Coach pulls me aside.

“I’m sorry,” I say before he has a chance to get a word out. “About how I played most of the game.”

“Son, I don’t want your apology. What I want is the dedication and commitment you showed on that winning catch every minute you’re on the field.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your heart is heavy. I understand that. But when it’s game time, you’ve got to find a way to leave it all behind and make the game the priority. There will be times in your life when things happen and you wish you could stay in bed for days, but you can’t because people count on you. This is one of those times. Your team is counting on you now. As hard as it is, you’ve got to trust me that making you get out there and play is the best thing I can do for you right now.”

“I know.”

He slaps me on the back. “Enjoy your weekend. And son, if you need anything, you be sure and let me know, all right?”

“Thanks, Coach. That means a lot.”

“Well, you mean a lot to this team. Remember that.”

Once I’m on the bus, I put on my headphones, sink back into my seat, and close my eyes. Game over. Week over. My feelings for Lauren? Obviously, not over.

When the bus pulls into the school’s parking lot, I think how this is where Benny would lean into me and say, “Whatcha up for now, Pynes?”

Sometimes it was Murphy’s Hill.

Sometimes it was Angie’s Restaurant and the all-you-can-eat pancake special with scrambled eggs and bacon.

Sometimes it was simply two words: “I’m beat.” Benny had different ways of responding to that, and almost all of them made me laugh.

We trudge off the bus, and Derek Nelson asks me if I want to join him and a few other guys who are going to check out a party they heard about.

“Thanks, man, but I’m heading home. I gotta work tomorrow.”

Derek looks over my shoulder and smiles. “Sure you do, Pynes. Sure you do.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about. I turn around and see Meghan leaning up against my truck.

“Damn,” I say.

He slaps me on the shoulder. “Have fun.”

I think about changing my mind and asking him for a ride to the party, if he’ll bring me back here later. That’s how much I don’t want to talk to Meghan right now. But they’re hooting and hollering and happy, walking across the parking lot, and I’m just not up to it.

“Good game,” she says when I approach. “That catch at the end was brilliant.”

“Thanks. I came through when it mattered, I guess.” I move past her, and throw my bag in the bed of my truck.

She pulls on my arm, and when I turn around, she’s right there. “I know you need someone right now.” Her eyes are so sad. And for a second, I wonder why. What does she have to be sad about? “This thing with Benny is killing you, I can tell. Let me help you.”

I sigh. “Meghan, I thought we already went over this.”

“I’m not your guardian angel anymore, but that doesn’t mean we can’t . . . you know.”

“Don’t do this.”

She looks surprised. “Do what?”

“This. Throw yourself at me because I’m the hero of the game tonight or whatever. Did you see the way I played the rest of the game? I’m not a hero. I’m so far from a hero, it’s not even funny.”

She looks heartbroken. “Colby, I like you. That’s all.”

I shake my head. “No. Like I told you before, I don’t think you even really know me. What you like is being a part of the winning team. It makes you feel good. Because you obviously don’t have much else in your life that makes you feel good about yourself, or you wouldn’t be showing up here, acting like this.”