Page 113 of Forever Cursed

Once we’ve taken a few deep breaths, I meet his dark brown eyes and place my hand on his shoulder. “You’re on the team for a reason. You’re a damn good quarterback. Coach knows it, the assistant coaches know it. Not a lot of freshmen are alternate quarterbacks, remember that. You might not even play today. Just focus on observing.” I give him a firm shake.

“Okay,” he mumbles with a nod. “You’re right, thank you.”

Coach starts to bark orders. Blake and I look at one another and smile.

“Ready for our last first game?” I ask.

“Let’s make it count.”

The team gets into position, and I ready myself to burst down the field and drive the ball as far as I can. I don’t bother looking toward Malik. He begins to shout numbers, signaling which play he wants us to execute.

Silence fills the air, and my muscles are taut. With a quick snap, Malik has the ball, and I book it. My legs devour the yards, navigating through the defense like they don’t exist. The crowd’s cheering becomes a distant hum as my heartbeat echoes in my ears. I’m open, and I turn to see what the holdup is.

With the ball still in Malik’s hand, I catch the moment he sees me, but he turns his attention to the other wide receiver, Michaels, who is completely covered. He chucks the ball, not caring about the opening. Time slows as the ball flies through the air, losing momentum within seconds. Michaels propels himself in the air, and while he manages to catch it, he’s tackled the moment his feet meet the ground. Michaels never stood a chance.

Malik, you fucking moron.

Coach is pissed. He’s already shouting at Malik, questioning his rationale. Time doesn’t allow Bradson to pull Malik to the side. With the clock running, we get back into position and repeat the motions.

And each time, Malik never tosses the ball my way.

“Chen?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Coach shouts, his face red.

Malik doesn’t respond. Instead, he tosses his helmet into a locker. The bang rings in my ears, and some guys flinch at the sudden noise.

“You won’t get your revenge if you don’t get your shit together,” Coach continues, not caring that Malik is ignoring him. “Go ahead, pretend like you can’t hear me. I don’t want to hear it when I bench your ass and put a freshman in your position.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Malik hisses, spit flying from his mouth.

“Oh, he speaks? Talk to me like that again, boy.”

They continue shouting at one another, and I peel my attention away from them, noticing that most of the guys are looking at me. They’re discouraged. We’re losing, twenty-one to seven, and with Malik being, well, a stupid prick, hope is diminishing for a first-game win. A certain someone is going to hate me for this, but fuck it.

“Listen up!” I shout over the argument in the back, earning everyone’s attention. “We’ve been working toward this moment. All the drills in the summer heat, every ounce of sweat and cursing we’ve poured into this—it’s led us to this moment. These last sixty minutes will define our season. Take a moment and look around you. We are more than a team, we’re a family. We’re messy and complicated. But we’re always a tight-knit foundation of support. I’ve considered you guys my second home. We’re stronger than those Owls. We’re Dragons, for god’s sake!”

“Yes, we fucking are!” Blake shouts, and the rest of the team echoes him.

“Who are we?!” I ask, my voice straining.

“Dragons!”

“Motherfucking Dragons! No regrets! No holding back! Let’s get out there and kick some ass!”

A chorus of determination and renewed hope brings a wide grin to my face. The room transformed from building hostility to fierce readiness with one goal in mind: Win.

“Let’s fucking go!” I finish my speech, and we start to file back out.

When I take a step forward, a hand grips my shoulder and pulls me back. I turn around to meet Coach Bradson.

“And that is why you need to be captain.”

Coach benched Malik, replacing him with Levi without so much as a second thought. Levi was nervous, but he put his trust in his team, and we won by the skin of our teeth. The crowd roared for me every time I landed in the end zone, scoring us touchdowns. And I smiled each time for more than one reason. I imagined what Dad must be doing, watching his son dominate the field. I swore I could hear Chrissy over the crowd, screaming my name with pride. And then I imagined Malik’s face. He was right, revenge does taste sweet.

When we reach the locker room, the energy is an addicting mixture of delight and hunger for more.

Malik is silently fuming, and Coach is watching me, waiting for my approval to move forward. Malik’s proven to me and this team that he’s selfish and only cares about himself and his own future. It’s time I take a stand. It’s time I claim what is rightfully mine.

If things go well, I’ll be captain by the next game. But that doesn’t erase my concern over Malik. As much as I don’t want to,it’s time I tell Coach what has been going on. I decide to do this for my team, not for me, because their futures are on the line as well. And I’ll do anything for my family.

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