Epilogue

: Andi

I try to school my expression as I feel the camera zoom in. In the year since Brandon and I got together, I’ve lost my poker face. Mostly because I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to be invisible anymore.

Right now, I’d like to be, though.

I don’t need the entire world to see me freak out.

This past winter, he trained like nobody’s business, gaining 15 pounds of pure muscle to get him to a more competitive weight by the February combine.

Even without the contracted television cameras, Brandon certainly amassed a lot of attention this year. With Hannah LaRosa’s help, his ClikClak account has taken off. He has over two million followers now. It’s more than just temporary social media fame. From the most cards in a professional soccer season to the oldest player ever drafted in the NFL (33 years and 2 days) to the only person to ever play at the top professional level for both soccer and football, Brandon’s in the history books.

I am too, as the first female soccer referee to reach Level 2 status and be primarily stationed in the MUSSL.

All in all, it’s been a stellar year for both of us.

I’m sitting at the 50-yard line of the New England Patriots and New York Jets game with Brandon’s sister, Jess, and her boyfriend Jasper. Benj and Sam are here too.

Benj is now the president of the Brandon Nix fan club. At least that’s what the shirt Brandon gave Benj for Christmas says.

Later that night, in the darkness of my childhood bedroom, he whispered that while Benj’s shirt was hilarious, seeing me with his name on my shirt had other effects.

I enjoyed that Christmas gift tremendously.

But now is definitely not the time to be thinking about that.

Hannah’s down on the sidelines, getting pictures and footage. Several of Brandon’s former teammates from the Buzzards are here as well, but they’re sitting somewhere else. I’m trying to keep as much distance from them as possible, though they’re a pretty good group of guys.

It’s the second possession of the game for the Patriots. If this drive is successful, the Patriots will score a touchdown, which should be a good thing. Except that means Brandon will make his debut as their placekicker to make the extra point. I see him on the sideline, warming up. He kicks into the net a few times as the quarterback throws the ball squarely into the end zone.

Oh shit, this is it.

I watch my man take the field. Soccer shorts may do wonders for a player’s thighs, but football pants are simply magical on the backside.

At least Brandon’s backside.

Brandon sprints out onto the field. He’s run all the math with me a thousand times. The extra point is kicked from a distance of roughly 33 yards. But then it has to be launched vertically as well. The crossbar is approximately 10 feet off the ground, but most players have a vertical jump of ...

I stopped listening when he got into the physics behind the differences in the shapes of the soccer ball versus the football. It was amazing to see how happy this made him. The light in his eyes when he talks about playing football is something I’d never have predicted.

Just like I’d never have predicted how good he’d look with short hair. It was part of his image makeover for the show, and let me just say, I like it.

A lot.

I also like that I inherited Brandon’s hair-tie collection.

The Pats get in formation. I put my hands over my eyes and then peek through my fingers. Brandon’s out there, raising his arm up and down to line up where he needs to be. The ball is snapped. Brandon takes three steps back and then three steps forward swinging and kicking and ... he misses.

No good.

The fans boo.

I sit down, my face blank. Oh Brandon, he’s got to be crushed. He runs off the field as the punter trots out to kick the ball away. The Jets receive it and begin running, only to fumble it. It’s recovered by the Patriots and returned for a touchdown.

Just like that, it’s Brandon’s turn again.

I really can’t watch this time. I put my head down and wait. The roar of the crowd tells me all I need to know.

He made it.

I jump to my feet, screaming and clapping. Jess grabs me, and we bounce up and down holding onto each other as if that one point just won the Superbowl. The look on his face as he takes his helmet off is one of pure joy.

An agonizing three hours later, the game is still going. I know people criticize soccer for being slow because there’s not a lot of scoring, but American football takes forever.

Too many commercial breaks.

The Patriots ran away with the game. It’s 37–7 with two minutes left on the clock. The math on that is Brandon made four out of five extra-point attempts and one field goal from 45 yards. For those who have him in their fantasy leagues, he scored seven points.

That’s also important because one of his corporate sponsors is donating a thousand dollars for every point scored to JustSibs.

As the time ticks away on the fourth quarter, Jess and I make our way down to the front row. Benj and Sam can’t weave their way down to the field the same way, but Hannah has given them passes to get on-field access. We’ll meet them down there. We have family passes hung on lanyards around our necks, so we’re allowed through without difficulty. Having a camera crew for the series finale of American Football Hero doesn’t hurt our access.

This will be the last part they film, at least for now.

Having a production team attached to his training journey certainly helped Brandon get noticed. His performance, as evidenced by this game, secured him the spot.

Brandon looks up to the stands, searching. His gaze lands on me and his mouth breaks into a huge grin. I match his expression.

I love seeing his smile. I love seeing the joy that playing this sport brings him. I love him.

He waves at us and then motions for us to come closer. We get up to the rail, still about seven feet above Brandon’s head.

“Come on over,” he yells as the final whistle blows. There will be media down on the field, so it’s not like they’re in a mad dash for the locker room. At least the Patriots aren’t. The Jets might be another story.

I swing one leg over the railing and then the other. Brandon’s standing underneath me, his arms raised and ready to catch me.

“Just go for it. I’ve got you.”

No other statement could better sum up our relationship.

I jump down and Brandon catches me, my body slamming into his. Certainly not graceful, and I’d bet there’s at least one camera that’s recorded it for posterity.

Brandon plants a quick kiss on my lips and then lets his hands drop. He stands inches from my face.

Love.

I love listening to the sound of water lap the banks of the lake. I love taking an ice bath followed by a hot shower to ease the pain in my aching body after a fulfilling, yet grueling workout. I love waking up to the most beautiful brown eyes every morning.

I love Brandon Nix.

“You did it,” I yell over the volume in the stadium.

“We did it, Andrew.”

I have to laugh. “Why with the Andrew still?”

“Because I love how riled up it gets you. Because I love how it makes your eyes sparkle. Because I love you.”

Brandon takes a step back and then another and then another. Then, he’s down on one knee, pulling a small ring box out from—hell I don’t even know where he’s had it.

“Andrea Nichols, will you—”

I don’t even wait for him to finish. I rush him, tackling him to the ground, planting my lips firmly on his as I scream, “YES! YES! YES!” He rolls me over and somehow manages to slip the diamond ring on my finger. I look up to see not only Benj and Sam, Jess and Jasper, but several of Brandon’s new teammates surrounding us.

Not to mention multiple cameras.

Now that’s a video I can’t wait to see go viral.

––––––––

THE END