The street is teeming with Adler Beck jerseys, and they’re not just topping torsos. They’re flapping from windows. Spread across tables
that line the street leading to Kluvberg’s stadium. BECK is spray-painted repeatedly across the pavement we’re walking along.
“This is insane,” Hallie comments. Matt and our father nod their agreement. They’ve both met Beck before, but I guess meeting someone and seeing their name plastered on every visible surface are two different things.
Despite my many protests—mostly about how I’d enjoy myself more if they weren’t present—Beck insisted on flying my family to Germany for his final match of the season. Sandra remained behind at the hotel with Matthew Jr., but my father, Hallie, and Matt are all making the trip with me to Kluvberg’s stadium for the game.
I guess Beck might understand more than my stubbornness after eight months of officially dating, because I’m less irritated and more cheery as I watch my three companions take in the chaos the anticipation is effervescing. It is spectacular.
We reach the stadium, and I guide my companions to the side entrance. One flash of our badges is all it takes to bypass security and head through the tunnel toward the seats reserved for us. I don’t know if Beck requested these particular seats or they were just given to him, but we’re right on top of the field.
It’s insanity. Pandemonium. I’m watched plenty of clips of European football games, but this is the first one I’m witnessing in person. Television screens don’t convey the energy and excitement of a sold-out crowd.
I try to take it all in, but it becomes a blur. Anthems, announcements, applause. Once number twenty-three appears on the pitch, nothing else can hold my attention.
My father and Matt are content to just take the atmosphere in, but Hallie keeps pestering me with questions. Are they allowed to cross that line? What does the whistle mean? Is he going to score? I simply grunt in response to most of them, too focused to formulate an answer.
The first half is scoreless and mostly even. I dig my nails into my palm for the start of the second.
“This is much more exciting than I expected it to be,” Hallie announces as the noise level in the stadium rises again.
I roll my eyes. Sometimes, I’m not sure how we’re related.
Ten minutes into the second period, I watch Beck steal the ball from Portugal’s star striker just past the center line. “Go, go, go,” I whisper.
He does, dodging defenders with a beauty and grace even an impartial viewer would appreciate. I’m the furthest thing from one. Not only am I invested in the sport, I’m invested in him.
Not because he’s the most famous footballer in the world.
Because he calls me every night before I go to bed, despite the fact that it’s the middle of the night for him.
Because he sent me a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream on the anniversary of my mother’s departure, so I didn’t have to go buy it myself.
Because I’m completely, devastatingly in love with him, even if I haven’t told him so.
One powerful kick, and Kluvberg is winning. Beck’s surrounded by his teammates. Noise I didn’t think could get any louder rises exponentially, filling the stadium with cheers I imagine overflowing the stadium and flooding all of Kluvberg.
“Oh my God!” Hallie screams. “He scored! He actually scored!”
I’m too busy cheering to laugh at her out loud, but I definitely do inside. The rest of the game is a nail-biter. Both teams have chances to score.
One kick by Portugal almost finds the back of the net, but Herrmann snags it from midair.
Two minutes are added for extra time. My stress level shoots through the roof. Metaphorically, since the stadium is open air.
But those one hundred and twenty seconds pass, and Kluvberg is still ahead when they officially expire.
I sit in shocked silence as the jubilation resonating around the stadium slowly registers, rising and rising and rising like an ocean tide that can’t be contained.
“They won,” I say to myself. “Get out there!” Hallie urges.
“How?” I break through my daze and look around at the euphoric fans surrounding us. I’ve seen photos of players on the field with loved ones after a major victory, but I’ve never seen how that actually takes place, logistically speaking.
“Um, the field is right there.” Hallie gestures forward.
“I’m definitely not supposed to climb over the barricade, Hallie.” She smiles. “Since when has that ever stopped you?”
Fair. And Hallie doesn’t even know about my illicit first trip here.
So I do just that, leaping over the plastic fencing. Portugal is standing in shocked disbelief. Kluvberg is celebrating. They’re a huddled mass around the one person I want to see. Eventually, they clear. Thankfully, it’s before security hauls me off the field.
Beck spots me and grins, and that smile is the release I’ve been waiting for. I sprint, not caring who’s watching us. We could be on the fucking jumbotron for all I care right now.
He catches me, barely moving, despite my momentum.
“Holy shit! You won!” I shout the words so he can hear them over the pandemonium.
Pure euphoria is painted over Beck’s perfect features. Some amusement blends in as he takes a few steps back, taking us to the fringes of the celebration where it’s a few decibels quieter. “You know you could have just shown your badge to get on the field, right?”
“Obviously not.”
“I told you last night,” Beck informs me. “You were naked. I was distracted.”
He chuckles. “Or you like trespassing.”
“I’m not trespassing. You just said I have permission.” I grin triumphantly. “It was a grand gesture, okay?”
“I’m blown away.”
“Yeah, you look it,” I comment. But he doesn’t. He looks sweaty and happy and gorgeous. And the knowledge that he’s also mine swells and
swells inside me until it pushes out the words I’ve been afraid to utter until right now. “Ich liebe dich.”
Those three words just sit, encasing us in a bubble of silence amongst the celebration that surrounds us.
“What?” Beck asks. Now he does look stunned. Ten minutes ago, he was sprinting across the field like a god, and now he looks so startled a light breeze could knock him over. I don’t even think he’s trying to draw this out or get me to say it again. I think I genuinely took him completely off guard.
“Did I pronounce it wrong?” I roll my eyes, even though it’s totally possible. “I love you, Beck.” I say the unfamiliar words with a little more conviction this time, because I actually know what I’m saying, and I’m rewarded with a crooked grin that grows and grows until it transforms the handsome features I now know better than my own.
“Ich liebe dich auch. I love you, too,” Beck replies, and I realize why he looked so completely gobsmacked seconds ago. Because it’s one thing to hear others exchange those words, or to say them in different combinations.
It’s another matter entirely to have someone say them to you. To hear them ring with sincerity.
“Uh, okay then.” I flash him a giddy smile that betrays any indifference my casual words convey.
“Okay then,” he echoes, still grinning. “This is alleviating a lot of worries about the surprise proposal I planned for tonight.”
That gets my attention. “You didn’t.” I study his face, trying to draw the truth out of those chiseled features.
“I don’t know. Did I?” Blue eyes dance. “I’ll turn you down.”
A broad grin splits stone, transforming from teasing to delight. “Yeah, right,” Beck scoffs.
He’s got reason to be confident. Ever since I agreed to give us a try, his record on convincing me to say yes is pretty spotless. Even disallowing his dirtier tricks.
“Guess you’ll just have to ask me and find out then,” I challenge. Beck accepts it with a smirk. “Okay, I will.”
“Okay,” I volley back.
Beck takes a step closer to me, compressing our little bubble further. “What did you think of the game?”
“Let’s go find a storage closet, and I’ll show you.”
Beck chuckles as he uses my waist to tug my body flush with his. “I love you, Saylor Scott.”
There are a dozen witty quips waiting on my tongue, but for once I opt for sincerity. “I love you, Adler Beck.”
He kisses me. In the very spot where we first met. And this time, I don’t critique.
I don’t deflect.
I don’t flee.
For the first and final time, I let myself fully fall.
