Page 112 of Forever Cursed

Chapter Fifty-One

Rome

“Gather up!” Coach Bradson yells over the team’s nervous and excited chatter.

We huddle around Coach, who stands on a wooden bench so everyone can see him. He takes a moment to scan the locker room, making eye contact with as many players as he can. When his gaze lands on me, he gives me a firm nod, and I return the gesture.

“This is what we’ve been preparing for. I’m not expecting perfection tonight, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want each and every one of you to give it your all. Remember our practices and plays. Remember to rely on your team and ask questions if you have them. It’s the first game of the season, which means there are scouts from the NFL. Don’t let it get to your heads. Do you hear me, seniors?”

“Yes, sir!” we all respond in unison.

“We’ll gather here at halftime. Malik! Get up here and talk to your team.” The disdain in his tone is evident.

I wonder if the other guys notice it like I do.

Malik takes Coach’s spot. With a cocky smirk, he looks out into the crowd and starts to try and amp us up for the game. “Alright, guys, we’re playing against the Arcadian Owls. Forthose who were on the team last season, you know we lost against them in the final cup. I don’t know about you, but I’m craving that sweet taste of revenge!”

A few yeses and yeahs fill the room in response.

“I want us to kick ass! We’ll prove to those assholes who rules the Northeast! Let’s make this game the start of a winning season!”

Everyone chants and agrees, grinning all around me, and if Malik and I were on good terms, his speech would have amped me up as well. Instead, a different feeling settles inside me, and I let it fuel me.

Give him hell.

The tunnel is dimly lit. The buzz from the crowd puts my head where it needs to be. I’m near the front with the other seniors. Malik is at the charge, per usual. The music lowers, and the announcer begins to rile the crowd.

Malik turns his head, meeting my gaze as I bring my helmet up to my head. We stare at one another, the tension that has been building between us apparent. With a look full of nothing but fury, I secure my helmet over my head and refuse to give him the reaction he’s looking for.

Go ahead, Malik. See what happens if you don’t throw me the ball. You want to win this game so bad? Prove it.

The announcer’s voice breaks through our stare off, and Malik secures his helmet over his head. “Let’s usher in the 2016-2017 season and give our team the welcome they deserve!”

Cheers follow suit, and when the music returns, we start onto the field for the first official time.

My last first time.

I was always a wide receiver. It started when I was a kid. I was quick and rarely dropped a pass. I made the junior varsity team in ninth grade and moved to varsity the following year. I poured myself into this sport. When Mom left, Dad was goneas well. Yes, he was there physically, but emotionally, he was a husk. All I had was football, and it never let me down.

When I run onto the field, I absorb the energy from the crowd. A proud smile splits my face. Dad is watching from home, and my girl is here, along with the rest of the crew. Newfound determination sets in, and I’m more than ready to leave my mark on my final season as a Castle Brook Dragon.

When I near the players’ bench, I take my helmet off and scan the crowd. The familiar feel of the grass under my cleats grounds me. I can’t help but smile at the fans who cheer and clap for me, but they’re not who I’m looking for.

A tug pulls on my heart, pleading for me to look to my right. With a slight turn, I meet my girl’s dazzling blue eyes and beaming smile. She left her curls down, and they’re as wild and gorgeous as ever. And she’s wearing the jersey I left for her. Seeing her in my number makes my heart swell with love and pride. I can’t wait to hold her in my arms and kiss her.

But first, we need to win this game.

Everything I’ve done has led up to this moment. Scouts are in the stands, the cameras are rolling, and my teammates are anxious in more ways than one. I spot Blake sitting next to Levi, and with a final wink toward Chrissy, I turn around and make my way over to them.

They’re whispering when I approach them. Levi looks like he’s about to projectile vomit across the field. First-game jitters are real, even if you aren’t playing. Anything can happen, and Coach can call on you at any time.

“You okay, Levi?” I ask.

All he can do is nod.

“You know how it is,” Blake offers with a warm smile, and I smile back at him, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“Faulkner.” I squat in front of him, earning his attention. “Breathe with me.” I take in a long breath and watch him dothe same. Holding it for a moment, I start to release it slowly, making sure to expel every ounce of air I just took in. “Again,” I instruct, and he follows suit.

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