I am fifteen years old, arms folded

My uniform, clean

Because I haven't played all game

From my spot on the sidelines, I peek

Over my shoulder and he's there,

Standing in the bleachers

Hands in pockets, smiling at me

We're losing by a lot

So I get to play

Most everyone went home

Only a few seconds left

I manage to barely trip the guy with the ball

But I guess it's a tackle

I stand up and look back

And he's clapping vigorously

Looking like he didn't mind waiting

One bit.

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