Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
My teammates made various faces that said fair point.
For a moment, I watched them with an uncomfortable nostalgia swimming in my gut. We’d all walked onto the team as freshmen together and had been through so much the last three seasons, I knew we had the kind of friendship that was forged in fire.
I could still remember when Riley walked into our locker room that first day of fall camp like she had something to prove — and she did. I remembered her slowly gaining our trust, kicking Kyle’s ass in a game of five hundred that would go down in our team’s history, and finally giving in to her feelings for Zeke.
Zeke, who had the highest returning yards of any special teams punt returner in the last season. On top of that, I’d watched him go from a kid who struggled so much in school that he just wanted to give up on it completely, to one who tutored the freshmen we had now who were in the same position he once was.
Clay had always been a beast on the field, and he’d had that same easy ability to lead just like Holden. But in the past year, he’d dedicated himself to weights and conditioning, to his diet, and he now had the build of an NFL player. He didn’t look like a kid anymore, like a college athlete. He looked like a pro. And I knew by this time next year, he would be — just like Holden.
My thoughts drifted to Coach Lee, to the look on his face when he showed me that stupid fucking article.
When he thought of us, of our crew, where did he place me? Did he see my growth, my potential?
Or did he only see wasted talent?
“I think he just needs a little support,” Clay said, and he clapped Zeke on the shoulder, stepping forward like he was about to jog over to where Blake stood with the team.
“Wait,” I said.
He turned, his eyes meeting mine along with the rest of them.
“I got this.”
Clay and Zeke exchanged looks before Clay waved his hand over the field as if to say after you.
I nodded, jogging over to where Blake stood. I nudged his arm when I reached him. “You good, Cap?”
Blake tried to smile but it fell flat. “I’m not captain yet.”
“And you won’t be if you keep acting like you don’t belong in that QB1 spot.”
“Maybe I don’t,” he said, his eyes snapping to mine. He was shorter than Holden, softer somehow — and yet, I had seen what he could do, what he was capable of when he turned his brain off. “Coach brought in a freshman QB, remember? Maybe he’ll be the one out here once fall camp starts.”
“Is that what you want?”
He hit me with a look that said what do you think?
“Stop acting like he’s already here, like he’s already better than you. You haven’t even seen him play. Besides, you are the veteran,” I reminded him, pointing my index finger into his chest. “You are the one who led us to a winning season last year. That kid might have talent, but he doesn’t have anything on what you have.”
“Which is?”
“La experiencia,” I answered easily. “Experience. Skill. And a whole team who has your back.”
Blake nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You’re right.”
“Aren’t I always?”
He laughed at that, and I clapped him on the back before turning my attention to where the team had been resting and waiting for direction.
“Alright, fam. You know the drill. You’re here because you want to get better, because you don’t want to waste a single second of this summer while our opponents are out there training for their number one goal — to beat us. They want to see us lose. They want to see us tuck our tails and limp back out of the spotlight where they liked us. But is that what we’re going to do?”
“Hell no!” Clay said from the back, and the rest of the team shot out various agreements.
“Hell fucking no,” I echoed. “No one is here to hold our hands. Coach can’t work with us over the summer except to direct our strength and conditioning staff to get us into shape. But we all came here to work together, and we know what to do.” I grabbed a ball off the field and shoved it into Blake’s hands. “Blake will take offense. Clay, get your defensive players on the backfield. Zeke and Riley, work with special teams and the kicking unit. And if you’re training and you think of something we need to work on, speak up,” I said to the rest of the team. “I don’t care what year you are or what experience you have. In fact, usually, you see more when you’re on the sidelines. So let’s work together. Let’s get better together.”