Cute | American Football | Players | Proposal
Jake tosses the football to me. “Nah, man, I’m not into Katherine.”
“She’s hot isn’t she?” I toss it back, putting a spin on it.
“Yeah but…she’s not my type,” Jake said, evasively, after he caught my return pass. Yeah, of course Katherine wasn’t; no one was his type. I had been noticing that he brought up girls less and less the longer we hung out together. We only had one class together, science, and we became friends after we ended up as lab partners. I was smitten with Jake’s smile, his all-American boy-next-door charm. He was an Eagle Scout and an athlete and an A student. Of course I was smitten, but I let my crush simmer from a distance.
“You never have a type!” I joked. “Not into dating huh? You want to get married one day?”
He paused, inspecting the lacing on the ball. “Maybe. To the right person. Maybe I’ll meet them in college or something.”
I held out my hands and he returned the football to me. I smiled at him and threw it back. I had purposely told Jake that practice was one hour earlier than it actually was, just so I’d have some time alone with him. He believed me, when I said I just misread the schedule. It was so hard to get time alone with him. When we were working on that project, or hanging out on the weekend, the hours went too fast. Each separation was a little painful, because we just felt so comfortable around each-other. We had a lot of fun, more fun than any date with any girl I’d been on…well, that’s because I never liked girls, but Jake did not know that.
“You think you’re gonna get married one day, Carter?”
“Oh for sure!” I replied. “Cause I look damn good in a suit.”
Jake snorted. “Since when have you worn a suit?”
“I wore one to my sister’s Bat Mitzvah,” I offered.
“You were 13.”
I shrugged. “I still got a nice suit,” I hinted.
“What does that mean?”
I took a big breath. I had been debating a long while if I really wanted to do this. It meant risking our friendship. Things would never be not awkward ever again if this went wrong. It would mean that I had misinterpreted all of Jake’s signals.
I caught a strong pass – god Jake had such great arm! – but I didn’t return it. Instead, I walked over to him. Confusion alit on his face. “Carter?”
I glanced around and made sure no one was in the stands. I then got down on one knee and offered the football with both hands.
“Jake…if you say no, I understand, but I thought I’d give it a chance.” I took a huge breath. “Will you go to prom with me?”
His arms fell to his sides like lead; his jaw nearly hit his chest. “Prom?”
“Well, no one has asked you yet right?” I asked, hopeful.
“No,” he admitted. And then he blushed! God, he was adorable! He hadn’t responded yet; I sensed hesitation.
I quickly added. “If you’re nervous about being out, then you don’t have to be seen coming with me. I just want to see you first in a suit.”
Jake blushed even harder. He covered his mouth and laughed. “Alright, you win. I’ll go with you.”
I dropped the football. “What? Really?”
“Yeah,” he said, scuffing his foot into the astroturf. “I was …kind of hoping you’d ask. I mean…we spend so much time together, and well, it was fun you know. Different, than with my other friends. But fun.”
I launched upwards and gave him an awkward hug in our bulky gear.
Later, after the prom, he let me kiss him when I dropped him off at his house.
Six years later, I walked out onto the field of the New York Levithians in front of thousands of excited football fans and proposed to Jake. He was in full uniform, looking incredibly handsome all grown up, despite being covered in grass stains. He said yes, and the entire stadium roared.