Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Head in the game, Sentinels,” Coach yelled, clapping for attention.
He might not have been talking to me, but I needed to snap the hell out of it, or we’d be in a world of hurt.
I shut my eyes, breathed out, and focused. You can do this.
By the time I led the offense onto the field, I was determined. My first pass was rough, the tight end barely catching it off his fingertips. But I couldn’t let it get to me. I pushed aside the panic like I’d been able to do so many times before on the field and stayed focused on my teammates and the game.
Thankfully, I was able to get in the right mindset by the second down, which was a running play, and tuned out the crowd. I only focused on the coach and the team for the rest of the second half.
The effort paid off because by the end of the third quarter I was able to lead the offense down the field to the nineteen-yard line and in the red zone, where we always did well. On the third down, I threw a perfect spiral to Flash in the end zone, and when he caught it and stayed in bounds, the crowd went wild.
We were able to hold them to a tie game until the final three minutes of the fourth quarter, where I ran the ball into the end zone myself from the five-yard line because of the tight coverage and the only opportunity I saw to squeak by a defensive end. Christ, it’d been a nail-biter for us too.
After my teammates and I celebrated with high-fives and bear hugs, I finally allowed myself to glance at the stands as I headed to the sideline. My parents were up on their feet cheering, and several rows behind them, Lark and his friends were too. He looked almost shell-shocked, like he didn’t know what to make of any of it, but my stomach did this strange twisty thing just seeing him smile.
“Get your ass out there and kick that extra point,” I said to Spencer.
“Will do, Cap,” he replied with a little salute, then went out there and did just that to secure our lead.
I sank down on the bench to catch my breath and drink the water handed to me. Spencer did the same once our teammates rallied around us.
“Nice job,” I said, nudging his shoulder.
“Thanks.” I could see the relief in his eyes, but he rarely missed this season. “You good?”
“I am now that we scored. Was worried there for a bit,” I replied.
“Nah, I knew you’d pull it out.”
My cheeks heated. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
He nodded. “Only have to hold them, and we got this game in the bag.”
We cheered on the defensive line when the opposing team came up short of the first down. All that was left was letting the clock run out.
Once the game ended, the crowd was on their feet again as we celebrated with slaps on the back before seeking out the opposing team’s players for sportsmanship’s sake.
When I saw the other team’s quarterback, I walked over to meet him in the middle of the field. I knew him by now, and not only because of our rivalry. I’d watched tapes to prep for games and even cheered them on when they were playing teams we hoped they’d beat. It was a small world when it came to college-level ball.
“Good job,” he said as we shook hands.
“You made me work for it.”
Once that was behind us, Coach motioned for the team to leave the field. On my way to the locker room, I looked up in the stands, still so fucking relieved we’d pulled it out. What else would explain lifting my hand in a wave? I didn’t even know who the gesture was for, but when my mom waved back, I was relieved. But also not.
13
LARK
At the end of the game, everyone in the stands stood to cheer the win, and I followed along, happy for Henry. Also impressed that he could command all that on the field and remain calm. He was a team captain and a quarterback and looked natural as a leader. Emil had been right when he’d said he was confident and seemed well-respected by his teammates.
I watched the opposing teams interact by shaking hands and thumping backs, and my gaze tracked Henry when the two quarterbacks spoke to each other.
As he followed his team off the field, he looked up at the stands and lifted his hand in a wave. My stomach warmed, and I nearly returned the gesture until I noticed he wasn’t waving to me at all but his parents, who were several rows in front of me. I could see their smiles, and I’d bet they were proud.