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“They’re faster than any team we’ve faced so far, and they’re stronger too. They don’t make mistakes, so if we want anything out of this game, we can’t afford to make them either.”
I adjusted my gloves, keeping my eyes down and my focus on his voice.
“The line holds,” Coach said, pointing as he went through it.” Ethan, you control the pace. Lucas, you stretch them, and Malik, you shut them down on defense.”
He paused, and then his gaze landed on me.
“And we run through you.”
I nodded automatically because it was our usual gameplay. It had worked with every other team, and we had no reason to believe that it would start failing now.
“Which brings me to this,” Coach added.
The shift in his tone had drawn everyone’s attention. I looked up to see what he was talking about, but what he said next had the blood freezing in my veins.
“Dylan’s out,” he said, earning a few shocked gasps, one of which came from me.
After that, the room fell silent, and it hit hard. I felt it before I saw it. Dylan stood across the room, his head shaking with disappointment.
“But, Coach—”
“You’re not fit to play, and you know it.”
“I’m fine,” Dylan insisted. “This is Endicott. You can’t bench me for this game.”
“You’re not ready.”
Dylan let out a sharp laugh as he ran his fingers through his hair. “So what, you’re just handing my position over?”
His eyes flickered to me, and no one could miss the edge in them. I held his gaze for half a second and then looked away, trying to avoid any trouble that might threaten to build between us.
“This isn’t about handing anything over. It’s about putting the best team on the field.”
Dylan clenched his fists. “That’s a team with me in it.”
“It’s not the case tonight.”
The words landed in a tone that was flat and final. Dylan didn’t argue, but the tension didn’t go away. It lingered in the room as he dropped back onto the bench. His shoulders were tight and his eyes were fixed straight ahead. The guy was furious, and that was dangerous.
I exhaled slowly and pulled my helmet strap tighter. All of this was mine, and there could be no excuses or distractions, but those words refused to leave my mind. Think about your sisters…
*
The whistle blew, and we ran like our lives depended on it. The first play was fast. Ethan called it, and the ball shot into motion before the noise from the crowd could settle. I took the handoff smoothly and pushed toward the gap, but it closed in an instant.
A wall of maroon surged forward, with defenders reading it before it was even fully formed. The contact hit hard and drove me sideways before I could adjust. Second down. I rolled my shoulders once to reset, and then the next play began.
Ethan faked a pass, pulling the defense back for half a second before doing the handoff. I cut left, trying to find a space, but there was nothing there. Then a linebacker met me low. He wrapped my legs and took me down before I could break through.
“Again!” Coach called from the sidelines.
I pushed myself up and took a steady breath, but my lungs were tighter than they had been when we started the game. For the third down, the snap came, and I took the ball. I dove forward, lowering my shoulders into contact and trying to force something, anything, into place, but the line didn’t move. They had stopped me cold. Punt. I jogged off the field with my jaw tight. This hadn’t happened in weeks.
“Shake it off,” Ethan said, slapping my shoulder encouragingly as we crossed.
I nodded, but I couldn’t shake it because it wasn’t just the defense. A big part of it had to do with me, and because of that, the next drive didn’t go any better. Endicott moved the ball like they’d done it a hundred times before. Their passes were clean and routes were sharp. They didn’t hesitate once, and that was what earned them the first touchdown.
The crowd’s noise dipped and then surged again, making it sound uneven. I stood on the sideline with my helmet pressed against my hip, and for a moment I just watched.
