Chapter Six
Jason
“Yo, QB, check it out.” Grady flipped me his cell phone. I caught it, my eyes narrowing on the tweet.
@ThatcherQB1: Raiders better watch out, the Tigers are on the prowl #Tigersgohunting #Raiderscansuckit
“Doesn’t Thatcher’s cousin play for the Tigers?” he asked me as I handed back his cell.
Shrugging, I grunted. “Fuck if I care. He’s just bitter we put their asses in the ground Rival’s Week.” We’d played them a couple weeks back. It had been a dog fight, both teams refusing to roll over. But, in the end, we got the win, and Thatcher had gone back to Rixon East with his tail between his legs.
“Should we be worried?” Cam leaned in, whispering in my ear.
“Do I look worried?” Thatcher was clutching at straws. He couldn’t touch me on the field, and he knew it.
“Hey.” Cam’s hand pressed against my chest as I went to move. “You sure you’re good?”
“Millington are going down and I’m going to enjoy every fucking second.” I grinned, but Cameron didn’t share my enthusiasm. In fact, he looked miserable as hell.
“He can’t touch me out there.” My expression grew serious. “You don’t need to look so—”
“Grady,” Coach boomed, startling us. “That better not be a cell phone I can see on game night. Lock it away, Son. Now.”
“Sorry, Coach,” Grady grumbled, flipping me off when I smirked at him.
“Gather in, ladies,” Coach Hasson’s voice echoed around the locker room. We all moved in, dropping into formation around him. I kneeled, helmet tucked onto my knee, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
“Game six,” he said. “Win tonight and we’re only one more game away from securing our place in the play-offs. We’re the team to chase, the team to beat. But that doesn’t mean we can get cocky, you hear me?”
“Yes, Sir,” rang out, vibrating through me.
“Millington have a strong defense and a quick offense. Don’t underestimate them. I want eyes open, give Chase a clear path, and for the love of God, keep your eye on your QB.”
Our defense grunted another, “Yes, Sir.”
“Chase,” Coach said to the guy standing at my side. “You good?”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Glad to hear it, Son. Anything changes and you let me know, okay?”
Cam nodded, his eyes sliding to mine. So much passed between us my chest constricted. He’d missed our last game due to his mom being in the hospital, but he was back now and he was hungry for it. I saw it in his eyes, knew I was reflecting the same back at him. We were so close. So fucking close I could almost taste it. Last year, we’d lost out to a shot at the championship but this year it was ours. Do or die, I was getting my championship ring before I graduated.
“Anything you want to add QB?” Coach asked me, his eyes conveying every conversation we’d had during practice this week.
Keep your cool.
We’re almost there.
Lead them to victory, Son.
Letting my eyes run over every one of my teammates faces, I said, “We do what we do every week, go out there and play like we want it. Like we deserve it. We’re Raiders. And what are we going to do?”
“WIN,” the roar of my teammates, my brothers, slammed into me, fueling the fire already raging in my chest.
“That’s what I like to hear. Asher, Son, care to do the honors?”
“Sure thing, Coach.” Asher jumped to his feet, bouncing around like fucking Tigger on steroids. “Who are we?” he cried.
“Raiders,” our voices carried over the rumble of the crowd outside.
“I said who are we?”
“RAIDERS.”
“And what are we?”
“Family.”
“And what are we gonna do?” Asher grinned at me, cocky motherfucker.
“Win.”
“I said what are we gonna do?”
“WIN!”
“Damn right we are,” Coach punched the air with his clipboard and yelled, “Now get out there and show me what you’re made of.”
As we spilled from the locker room into the stadium tunnel, we sounded like a stampede, an army rushing into war. Flames licked my insides; hunger for the win coursing through my veins. I pulled on my helmet as we jogged onto the field, crashing through the cheerleader’s banner like a powerful wave. The crowd was on their feet, cheering and yelling our names. The sheer force of their collective voices slamming into me. Whatever it takes by Imagine Dragons rose above the noise, igniting the whole place into a frenzy. This is what I lived for. On this sacred place, under the bright Friday night lights, I was the best. Worshipped like a god and revered like a star. I was an above average student, knew my way around an algebra textbook, knew my Shakespeare from my Miller, but out here… out here I was home.
I took a second, inhaling deeply, relishing the smell of freshly cut grass, letting my eyes run over the four-thousand-strong crowd. Four years, I’d played football here. Four years, I’d celebrated wins and defeats, although not many. Four years of blood, sweat, and tears. I was ready, so ready, for the next step in my football career. The NCAA. One step closer to the ultimate dream: The NFL. But I knew there was something about this time, senior year at high school. I’d grown from a boy into a man on this field and I would never forget my time playing under Coach Hasson, with guys I considered my brothers.
“Yo, QB, you good?” Asher yelled, and my head whipped over to him. I gave him a nod, jogging over to the rest of the guys. Anticipation rippled around us, the air crackling with excitement. It was addictive; better than any synthetic high.
“Hey, Jase.” Grady flicked his head over to where Millington were huddled. “Looks like you’ve got a new fan club.”
One of their players was glaring over at me. I stood taller, tipping my chin slightly, sending him a silent ‘fuck you’. He narrowed his eyes, pointing his finger at me before dragging it across his throat.
“Yo, Coach?” I asked one of our assistant coaches. “Number twenty-three. What position is he playing?”
“Linebacker,” he said warily. “Should I be concerned?”
“Nah, Coach. Just wondered.”
He gave me a pointed look. “No bullshit out there, okay?”
“Did I hear someone say bullshit?” Coach Hasson called us in. “Listen up. Millington came here to win. If they don’t, they can kiss a shot at the play-offs goodbye. So that means they’ll be gunning for blood. Your blood. You hear me?” We nodded. “They’re desperate and desperate men will do anything to get the win. Keep your cool and don’t get dragged into their games. That goes for you too, QB.”
“Yes, Sir.” My eyes flicked over to Millington. Like us, they were now huddled around their coach, who was no doubt telling them to use every trick in the book to get the win they so desperately needed to keep their play-off dream alive.
The referee interrupted Coach’s pep talk to inform us we needed to call the toss. I jogged out into the middle of the field with Cam and Asher flanking my side where we met the Millington players head on.