Page 101 of Running With Lions

Sebastian whacks his head on the wall to make sure it’s not a dream. Then he nods at her. He hums “Eye of the Tiger,” becauseRockymovies really are magical.

The Lions are about to kick the Spartans’ asses.

The locker room is frantic.Guys are hopped up on adrenaline, roughhousing, shoving each other, snapping towels. A few players are being taped up to protect soreness or mild injuries. Gio and Jack are engaged in a furious game of bloody knuckles. Rollins is pale, huddled in a corner, saying Hail Marys.

Warm-up gear is shed; uniforms are pulled on. It’s noisy and smelly and just the kind of atmosphere Sebastian craves before a game. He still might vomit, but in a good way, like he would stepping off the world’s fastest rollercoaster.

“Delson! Get out of that mirror and suit up,” Willie shouts, moving swifter than any boy on crutches should.

Kyle flips him off and returns to his reflection, fixing his hair. “Coach Willie’s more of a hard-ass than Rivera.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Willie says over his shoulder.

Mason is hunched over, forearms on his thighs, head bobbing, with the chord of his Beatz wound around a finger. He’s got a bench to himself. No one bothers him thirty minutes before a game. He doesn’t meet eyes with anyone; he’s slipped into a zone.

Sebastian gets it. Everything about today is exciting. It’s terrifying and so big that they all need a way to escape for just a few minutes. That’s the thing about life: The biggest, most thrilling moments can make you wish they wouldn’t happen at all.

Coach barrels in, with Grey following, then Rivera and O’Brien. He says, voice booming, “Okay, gather ‘round, Lions,” before he slips into his usual pregame speech. It’s profanity-filled and meaningful.

Sebastian rests against his locker.

Freshman eyes are saucer-wide. Guys elbow to get closer. Coach doesn’t talk for the hell of it. If he isn’t going to inspire you, he’s silent. He’s not going to quote dead legends. He spouts rap lyrics, spinning them to fit his brand of motivation. Sebastian’s never heard LL Cool J used so poetically.

Coach pins Sebastian with his eyes. “Now, let’s hear from Captain Hughes.”

Sebastian doesn’t shrink, though his heart has claimed residence in his throat. He’s not expecting the applause or the back-claps as he nudges his way to the front. They amp up his nerves. He smiles shakily for Willie, then avoids eye contact with Carl as he passes. Carl’s still shit on the bottoms of his shoes.

When Sebastian climbs up on a bench, towering over his peers, things shift. It hits him like electric shock. Last Saturday, he ate cold pizza for breakfast, binged an entire season ofAmerican Horror Storyfrom the couch, had waffles for dinner, and it was just another day. Today, he’s playing one of his biggest games, witnessed his friends come together, and is staring the boy he loves right in the eyes.

And that’s the thing, life is sometimes just another day, and sometimes it’s moment after moment after moment that only paralyzes you if you let it.

Sebastian’s not letting it.

Mason says, grinning, “C’mon Hughes, inspire us.”

Sebastian rubs the back of his neck. “I suck at speeches.” He pauses; a teacher once told him that pointing out your weaknesses leaves you vulnerable to your audience. “We all know what this season is about, right?”

“Winning the championship!”

“Well, yes,that.” Sebastian winks at Gio. “Also, it’s about proving ourselves, proving life isn’t only about what you accomplish.” His eyes find Zach, then Willie. “It’s about proving to yourself you can make the best of what you’ve been given.”

Zach tips his chin up.

“We’re not those guys from camp anymore. That’s our past. Last season is our past too. It doesn’t define who we are right now.” Goosebumps break out on his arms; his eyes well up. This isn’t just for Zach; it’s for Sebastian too. He’s not his past, his youth. He’snotBastian the Trashcan anymore. That’s a lesson he’s learned from counseling and talks with his family. “Wedecide our futures. No one can stop us, especially not some pathetic Spartans.

“We don’t need to beat any team, ’cause we beat ourselves. ’Cause we’re better than all of them.” His hands are shaky. He clears his throat. The lump of anxiety melts, and he says, “Now who are we?”

“Lions!”

Willie is the loudest. He hobbles forward and leans into Grey.

“And what are we gonna do?”

“Kill the Spartans!”

Coach clears his throat gruffly and drags a finger across it.

Sebastian holds in a chuckle. “Okay, maybe notkill, but you will protect your brother. If someone hurts your family, take them down—” Again, Coach clears his throat, and Sebastian says, with a wry smile, “—legally, please.”

---