Sweet Home (Page 101)

Next.

“Molls, it’s Cass. You better be back for the championship, girl, or I’m gonna track you down and kick your skinny English ass! The fans are freakin’ after the story in the paper, and Romeo can’t throw for shit in practice. No more feelin’ sorry for yourself! Fix it, girl. Get here, like, yesterday!”

I laughed lightly at Cass’s usual no-nonsense tone.

I spent the next hour listening to Romeo’s messages of heartbreak, anger, or complete desolation and my friends all trying to convince me to return. The last voicemail was left this morning. I pressed the button to listen.

“Hey, baby, it’s me. I’m in Pasadena now for the game tomorrow and wanted to call you… again. I guess since you haven’t returned my calls, it means that you’re really not comin’ home. I know you’re in Oxford. Professor Ross emailed me. I just want you to know that I love you and that’ll never change. I need you, baby. I need you with me. You’re my family, my everythin’. You’re my home.”

Home. I was his home sweet home.

I erased all the messages and sent two texts.

Ally, don’t say anything to Romeo in case I don’t make it, but I’m on my way to Pasadena. I need you to get me a pass for the game. I’ll call you when I land… I’m so sorry for everything, but I’m coming back for him. I’m coming back. Xx

The next was much simpler.

Romeo. I love you. I haven’t given up on us. You’re my home too. Xx

I shut off my phone and headed to the departure gate. For the first time in my life, I was running to something, not away from it.

26

“How long until kickoff?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Will we get there in time?”

“It all depends on traffic.”

I flopped back in the back seat of the cab and texted Ally.

ME: Almost there. Traffic horrendous. How is he?

ALLY: Hurry, Molls. The fans and cameramen keep looking for you. Cass and I keep getting questioned. Romeo isn’t good. Keeps searching for you as they practice. By the look on his face right now, he’s decided you’re not coming.

Bugger, that wasn’t good.

“Any closer yet?”

The cab driver’s knuckles on the wheel turned white in annoyance. “Look, lady. There’s the stadium. You can see the traffic for yourself.”

I stretched my neck, spotting the large imposing stadium at the end of a long, traffic-jammed road. I had to get there.

I could run that.

I tossed money at the driver, jumping out of the cab, and broke into a run heading in the direction of the Rose Bowl Stadium. People whistled and whooped as I ran by in my brown cowboy boots and white lace summer dress, but I ignored it. I had my hair down and flowing, and I’d even managed to makeup my face. I’d used the time on the plane wisely.

I could hear the noise from the rowdy crowd and grabbed my phone.

ME: Approaching now. Meet me outside with pass.

ALLY: On way. Cutting it close!

I approached the entrance, climbing the steps two at a time. Just as I reached the top, Ally came running out decked in denim shorts and a Tide jersey. Her relieved smile nearly knocked me over as she reached for my hand.

“Molls, I’ll hug you later. Right now you need to come quick. Throw these on!”

She threw my jersey and a security pass at me.

She’d brought my lucky jersey. She hadn’t doubted I’d come. She hadn’t doubted me.

I put the jersey on over my dress, and Ally pulled me into the stadium, waving our passes at the steward as we ran. We weaved in and out of corridors, up staircases and through throngs of people and finally, back down to the lower level, coming out of a tunnel into the bright sunshine where a huge pitch-sized American flag covered the field. The national anthem was just coming to an end, some pop star singing passionately at the top of her lungs. The crowd roaring with excitement and patriotism. I stumbled at the sight of the ceremony, but Ally’s firm grip ensured I kept going.

I spotted the sturdy form of Cass at our seats, directly behind the advertisement boards, whistling and using her hands to guide us to her. Relieved cheers also broke out as the Tide fans began to spot my arrival. I knew if I looked up, I’d be on the big screens, so I kept my head firmly down.

As I ran past supporters, people paid their respects to my loss, taking hats off their heads as a sympathetic gesture and tapping me on the back, telling me to keep strong.

I faltered.

Ally turned to me with a sorrowful face. “It was big news, darlin’, but they’re all here to wish you well. No need to be embarrassed. Folks are sick to their stomachs at what Rome’s parents have done. They love y’all.”