Blitzed(32)

After that, everything is a stat grab. My hit on the fullback took him out of the game with a dislocated shoulder, but more importantly, the Sounders had their hearts taken away from them and came out in the second half a shell of what they were. Final score: Silver Lake 42, Northern 6.

I'm shaking hands with the Sounders when a man approaches me, wearing the crimson and black of Clement University. "Troy Wood?"

"Yes, sir. Can I help you?"

"Yeah," he says, offering his hand. "Zach Peterson, I'm the assistant head coach for Clement University."

"I've read your name before, Coach. It's a pleasure. Hope you enjoyed the game."

"Enjoyed it? That was one of the finest displays of football I've ever seen at the high school level. Now, I know we were supposed to deliver this to you last week, but it kinda got lost in the paperwork shuffle around the office. Here you are," he says, handing me an envelope. "Your hands are sweaty, but it's an offer. Full ride. You play for Clement next year. I know you've got a few weeks until signing day, but we thought you might like to consider us as an option."

There's a TV crew in our face suddenly, and some reporter is getting his bit for the news. "Coach, I don't need to think. You say Clement has an offer for me. I know I’ve gotta wait for the actual signing, but you have my word. I'm going to Clement."

"And there you have it, folks. Local sports star, Troy Wood, has just verbally committed to Clement University after leading the Silver Foxes to a massive forty-two to six thrashing of the Sounders. Troy, do you have anything you'd like to say?"

I nod, knowing there's only one thing I want to say. I hold up the strip of tape with the 'WN' on it, smiling. “That one’s for you.”

I go to look for Whitney, and I hope that maybe, finally, we can put everything behind us. I look everywhere, but the crowd is huge, and I can't see anything beyond the pounding slaps of all the fans cheering our performance. Some of my teammates are coming up for hugs and high-fives, but it's Cory who really sees me. "What's wrong?"

"Where's Whitney?" I yell, looking around. "I can't find her!"

Cory nods, and slaps Pete Barkovitch. "Find Dani! She’ll know where Whitney is.”

Pete disappears, and Cory grins. "Chill, Golden Boy. You earned a bit of glorification. We'll find your girl."

Cory disappears, and I wait. The crowd lessens, and soon, there's only a few left, kids reenacting stuff they just saw, a few guys with their parents or their girlfriends, and me. I look around, desperate. "Whitney? WHITNEY!"

"Troy," a tearful voice says behind me, and I spin to see Danielle, her face streaked with tears as she stands there. "She . . . she's gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" I ask, not understanding. "Gone home? Why?"

Dani shakes her head and takes out an envelope. "I promised her I'd give this to you after the game. I . . . I'm sorry, Troy."

I open the envelope, not caring about the nearly identical sized one from Clement in my helmet, and unfold a single sheet of thick paper, no mere notebook paper like Whitney's note in my helmet liner, but high-quality stationary. The writing is the same, however, in Whitney's clear, fine script.

Dear Troy,

I've tried to write this four times so far, and each time, there's too many tears on the paper to make it readable, so I'm praying that I can get through it this time. It's about three in the afternoon, and right about now, you're leaving your last class to head over to the stadium to get ready for Northern.

Troy, I have to leave. I've always had a desire to study abroad, and a few weeks ago, an offer dropped into my lap that I can't refuse. I thought about it long and hard, which is why for the past few weeks, I've been so off.

You see, Troy, the problem is, when I started this year, I knew about the chance for the program, but I didn't worry about it. I only had Dani as a true friend, and I was willing to give that up for this program, have just a long distance friendship for a while. I never expected to date you, and then more importantly, to fall in love with you. And yes, I love you with all my heart.

Which is why I have to let you go. I can't do the program and be your girlfriend. The time difference is too much, and the miles are too many. I can't rob you of your future, and I know where that is. I wish there were another way. I wish I could dance with you at the prom, or kiss you on Valentine's Day, or yes, make love with you again. I wish we could do all those things, but we can't. It's not fair to me, but more importantly, it's not fair to you.

I'm leaving this note with Dani because I know she'll deliver it to you. Please, don't try to follow up, don't try to figure out where I went. Let's just chop it off clean here before I ruin your life. If fate should bring us together again . . . I don't know. I just know one thing.

I will always love you, Troy. Please believe that.

Whitney

I read the letter twice, not believing the words, and I drop to my knees, the paper tumbling from my numb fingers. "But . . . why?"

Dani shakes her head, and now both of us are crying, sobbing in a heap in the middle of the SLHS logo painted on the grass. "She handed it to me before the game, right after she talked to you," Dani sobs, holding my head to hers. "She gave me a copy, and told me that she was leaving right then. I tried to get her to stay, but she shook her head. 'I don't need to see the game,' she said. 'Troy's going to win, I know it.' And then she was gone."