Chapter 7

Everyone was nervous and amped up as we suited up in the locker room. Our field house was behind one of the goal lines in an older-style building, but we could already hear the noise of the crowd outside.

We were all freshmen, being the freshman team, so even though most of us had been playing for years, there was a big difference between middle school ball and high school, as far as attendance went. In Texas, football was king, and high school games could pull huge crowds. The varsity games emptied most of the town on Friday or Saturday nights as everyone piled into the stadium. Even for away games, we’d form these long convoys of parents, friends, family, and just fans, following the school team to whatever town we were playing against. My dad and I had been to a lot of varsity games over the years and had even been in some of those long convoys to away games.

Things weren’t quite that serious for the freshman team, but the stadium still filled up a lot more than I, or anyone else on the team, had ever experienced.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.

I was also supposed to be a leader on the team, and I wasn’t the only one nervous. Miguel looked like he was going to puke.

“Hey.” I nudged him. “You got this.”

“First game, you know? What if I mess up?”

“Then you mess up. But you won’t. Just like practice, right?”

“Right.” Miguel managed a small smile. “Thanks, Blake.”

I slapped him on the arm again and tried to give him a ‘this is no big deal’ kind of smile.

That was made harder by Elijah sitting a few spaces down by the other section of lockers mad-dogging me the whole time. We hadn’t had any more shenanigans at practice after Monday because the coaches had been calling out hard hits more, but Elijah and the rest had been becoming more ... passive-aggressive.

For a second, it looked like he was going to come over and say something, start something, but the coach came out of his office.

“Listen up, gentlemen. Monterey’s going to come at us hard. This is our first game and everyone on the other side of the field is a freshman too, so they’re going to be looking to prove something. They have a good program, but not something we can’t beat. Play smart, trust each other, and remember, it’s not just about individual glory. We win as a team. Let’s get going.”

I was still feeling the nerves as we jogged out of the field house. Our cheerleaders were lined up in the end zone closest to the field house, holding a massive paper banner in black and gold with a mustang painted on it. I’d seen this done in the football games I’d gone to as a spectator, but I’d assumed that was only something they did for varsity games. I didn’t remember them doing it for my freshman games from my dreams, but I hadn’t played in the first one and had been in kind of a funk, so I wasn’t really paying attention. I was pretty sure this was only because it was our first game, and they wouldn’t do it for any of the others because I would have noticed that from my dream, but it still felt good to have it.

The Monterey High players were already on their sideline, having come out first as the visitors, but I ignored them. When we saw the banner, we all started yelling and took off for the paper banner. I’d come out first and I put some extra speed into my run, mostly because I wanted to be the first one through. Tearing through that banner and running through the line of cheerleaders for the first time was exhilarating.

As I jogged to our sidelines, I looked up into the stands. Dad said he was coming, and even told me where he was planning to sit, but I still had a moment of worry. I guess I’d spent too long in my dream life, because every time I looked for him, I expected him to be gone.

He was there though, sitting up front at the fifty-yard line, wearing a Mustangs cap I didn’t even know he had. He’d switched shifts with one of the other deputies so he could be here for my first game. When he spotted me looking, he raised his hand in a wave, grinning broadly. I waved back, grinning just as big.

“Sims!” Coach Heidemann called. “You’re up for the coin toss.”

I jogged toward midfield, where the officials waited with the opposing team’s quarterback. Coach said we didn’t do team captains on the freshman team, and that he’d be rotating players through the coin toss throughout the season.

Sadly, my first time didn’t go well, as it landed on tails, which was the other team’s pick, giving them the first possession.

Monterey’s kick returner caught the ball at their two-yard line and took off like he had something to prove, managing to slip through the coverage until one of our guys wrapped him up at the thirty-five. Not a great start for us.

Their offense was good, or at least good against our defense, managing to move the ball in steady chunks. They ran a few short plays, grinding out yardage. Finally, on third and long, Julius broke through their line and sacked their quarterback, forcing them to punt.

I pulled my helmet on as we ran onto the field, feeling the nerves as I was about to take my first snap in a high school game. I could remember, and even kind of feel, all of those snaps I took in my dream, for the two years I played, but that was kind of fuzzy. This was the real thing so I pushed the nerves down and tried to focus as I got into the huddle.

We lined up and I got behind Tyrell just like at practice.

“Red Forty-three! Hut! Hut!”

The ball snapped into my hands, and I spun, thrusting it into Hunter’s gut. He secured it and charged forward, blasting through the hole that Tyrell and Connor opened up. One of their linebackers filled the gap, but Hunter lowered his shoulder and powered through the hit, stumbling but keeping his feet. He churned forward, fighting for every inch before their safety dragged him down after a solid eight-yard gain.

Not quite enough for a first down, but forward momentum. Coach Heidemann had made it clear he preferred a running game for the freshman team, as it was less likely to cause turnovers and would pick up yards. He said he would get me some passing plays, but even those would focus on short passes to pick up yardage instead of big plays.

“Nice run!” I slapped Hunter on the helmet as we jogged back to the huddle.

He shrugged me off. I just shook my head. They couldn’t drop it, even when it was in their best interest for everyone to get along.

Monterey’s defense toughened up after that, and we ended up having to punt a few plays later. The rest of the first quarter was a back-and-forth battle, both of us trading possessions as we each tried to find our rhythm.

Late in the quarter, Monterey started to put a drive together. They mixed runs and short passes, playing almost exactly the playbook that Coach Heidemann liked, marching down the field despite our defense’s best efforts. As the clock ticked down, they punched it in from the two-yard line, their fullback diving over the top for the score. The extra point sailed through the uprights, and just like that, we were down 7 to 0.

I tried not to let it get to me as we headed to the sidelines for the break between quarters.

“Plenty of time left,” I said to my guys, who were looking a little grim. “We’ll get ‘em back.”

Coach Heidemann seemed to agree. “Good effort out there, boys. We’re right in this. Blake, I want to open it up a bit this quarter. Their safeties are cheating up.”

Early in the second, we finally got a break. It was second down and I was back behind Tyrell, ready to get the snap.

“Blue eightyyy!” I called. “Blue eighty! Hut! Hut! Hut!”

The ball slapped into my hands and I took a step back, faking a handoff to Hunter as best I could, watching as the Monterey defense bit on it hard, expecting another run. Instead, I pulled the ball back and stepped up into the pocket, looking downfield.

Miguel was my first read, and he was sprinting downfield, several steps ahead of his man. I planted my feet and let it fly. The ball spiraled clean, and for a second, time seemed to slow. Miguel reached out just as the safety closed in and bam, he caught it, pulled it in, and broke away for the end zone. The crowd roared as he crossed the goal line.

Touchdown.

We lined up for the extra point, and Dominic’s kick sailed through the uprights. The score was tied. It was an amazing feeling.

The rest of the first half settled into another grind - run, pass, punt, with neither team able to break through. The defenses were keyed up now, flying to the ball on every play. By the time the clock hit zeros and the teams jogged to the locker rooms, the score was still stuck at seven apiece.

I do not know if it was the grinding nature of the game or what, but everyone was tense when we got back to the field house for halftime. Monterey had put up a fight in the first half, and we all knew this was far from over. I grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off my face, and watched as Elijah, Hunter, and the rest came in through the door, having apparently hung back for a second.

I knew what was coming. Elijah had been glancing at me all through the second quarter, eyeing me like he had been since everything fell apart between us, and I knew in my gut that they hung back to talk about whatever was pissing him off.

“You really gonna act like that out there, Sims?” Elijah snapped, stepping in front of me before I could even sit down.

“Act like what?”

“Like you’re out there playing for your new best friends. Passing to Miguel? Seriously? You’ve got me wide open half the time and you don’t even look my way.”

“You’re not wide open. I’m making the right reads, Elijah. I’m not forcing throws just to make you happy.”

“Bullshit. You’re blowing it for us, man. This team could win if you’d stop playing favorites.”

I could feel the eyes of the other guys on us now. The room was going quiet. I knew four new guys were on my side and Elijah and his four were against me whatever I said, but there were nine other guys on the team besides us, and they didn’t need this shit. I wasn’t going to back down from him, though.

“Elijah, I’m doing my job,” I said, keeping my voice level. “I’m hitting the open guy. You want the ball? Get open.”

“I was open!” he shouted, stepping closer, his chest puffed out like he was trying to intimidate me. “You just didn’t see me because you’re too busy sucking up to the new kids.”

“You were covered, Elijah. Every time. I’m not gonna force it. I’m playing to win, not to make you feel good.”

“That’s bullshit!” he all but yelled.

For a second, I thought he was going to swing at me, the way his fists clenched. The whole room seemed to freeze, everyone waiting to see what would happen next. Before he could do anything, the locker room door slammed open, and Coach Heidemann came in. Elijah took a step back and I was pretty sure the coach didn’t see what he was up to.

“Alright, everyone gather round!”

Elijah gave me one last glare, but moved away. I watched him for a second, then turned toward Coach like the rest of the guys, shoving the tension down for now. We had a second half to worry about, and I wasn’t about to let Elijah throw me off my game.