Page 53 of Running With Lions

Sebastian does a quick headcount. Willie’s missing. He’s sitting in the bleachers next to Grey.

“He’s resting his knee,” Hunter whispers.

Sebastian doesn’t tell Hunter he wasn’t looking for Willie. His eyes find Emir, who is glaring at the mud on his shoes rather than Sebastian.

“I want Riley,” Jack says, startling Sebastian.

“Shit,” Sebastian mouths. Picking Mason should’ve been automatic.

Mason stomps over to Jack’s side.

“Fine,” Sebastian says, glancing at the leftovers. And then he says, proudly, “I’ll take Emir.”

The gasps are audible. Emir stands wide-eyed, hands jammed in his pockets, eyebrows raised. He skulks over, shoulders tight.

Carl whispers, “This is going to be good,” too loudly.

“Shut up,” Sebastian says. “Face it, Mason’s our strongest attacker. If he’s on the other team, I want a good defender, like Emir. It’s calledstrategy.” He doesn’t flinch when Jack sucks air through his teeth as though Sebastian’s digging his own grave. Jack is an intolerable jerk, and his opinion doesn’t matter.

Coach clears his throat. “Enough,” he warns, when a few guys snicker. He doesn’t tolerate bullshit; he always preaches about every member of the team being invaluable. They all have a role to play. Sebastian’s not sure if that’s fromRemember the TitansorAny Given Sunday, but he agrees. Emir is as important as Mason.

“Right on, Bastian,” Hunter says.

“Jesus freak,” Carl replies, chuckling.

Hunter peers at Carl. “Let’s hope God blesses me not to humiliate your sorry ass all over the field today.” He bows his head. “Amen.”

To the left of Sebastian, Coach smiles, as if he’s impressed with Sebastian’s speech or his decision-making skills, or maybe he’s just trying not to laugh at Sebastian for picking a very green Emir.

This could all go horribly wrong in about five minutes. But first, they finish divvying up the remaining players. Sebastian steals Hunter and Smith, because Jack is too egotistical about picking Mason to remember he needs to build an offense around him. Jack gets Gio and Zach too. Sebastian settles for two freshmen over a shivering Kyle.

“C’mon,” Coach barks. “If any of you catch the flu because picking sides took so long, Drews and Hughes will be cleaning up your puke.”

The field is a slick surface made for disaster. Jack has stacked his team offensively, but Sebastian’s squad is balanced with players interchangeable by position. It’s a small advantage. He won’t stop Mason, but he can slow him down.

“Hey,” he calls to a sulking Emir. “We’re gonna win.”

Emir tilts his head to the heavens. “We’ll lose,” he says weakly.

Sebastian says, “And if you’re wrong, we run an extra mile tomorrow,” before swatting Emir’s ass; he puts a hand over his own mouth to hold back a laugh.

Emir narrows his eyes as if unconvinced. At the last second, he smiles. Sebastian relaxes, content in his tiny victory.

Mason’s eyes are rimmed by hurt or anger. “Good luck,” he scoffs, and trudges to his end of the field.

Sebastian shrugs. His mind is on one thing: crushing Jack’s team.

They lose, one-zip, but toSebastian’s holy grail of delight, it’s not because of Emir, who holds his own against Jack’s team. He defends Sebastian’s box the way a knight defends his castle. Midway into the game, Emir goes toe to toe with Mason, putting on an epic show of fast feet. His nerves are visible: stiff shoulders, shaky legs, a wan expression every time Mason isn’t looking.

Sebastian’s proud he survived.

Their downfall is their lack of offense. Smith’s way too cocky for a sophomore. Kyle is all over the place. And Mikey, a freshman who’s more bones than muscle, bombs a penalty kick in the first five minutes.

Coach, disgusted, shouts, “Who taught you how to play, son?” while tugging the brim of his beat-up BHS Lions snapback low enough to hide his scowl.

Gio steals the ball when something goes wrong on an easy passing play between Smith and Kyle and cracks the ball right into Mason’s path.

Sebastian isn’t embarrassed to admit he and Willie spent an entire winter break repeatedly viewing the originalStar Warstrilogy. The team’s defense racing behind Mason is like a fleet of TIE fighters trying to chase down the Millennium Falcon; it’s not possible.

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