The Freshmen- No. 5

Chronicle 5

“The Big Man On Campus: The First Game”

Christ the Savior was terrible.

Everybody knew Christ the Savior was terrible.

Christ the Savior probably knew Christ the Savior was terrible.

None of this prevented a large crowd from showing up at the Crestview Nest.

Jason Rydell looked around at the parking lot.

“I thought this was a football game.”

“It is,” Kathy said.

“There's an acrobat.”

There was.

A woman was hanging upside down from a rope suspended several metres above the ground.

Nearby, a local band was playing.

Beyond them, children were trying to throw footballs through increasingly small holes for prizes.

There was trivia.

There were carnival games.

There were former Crestview athletes signing autographs and talking to anybody interested in hearing about what the Crows had been like ten, twenty or thirty years ago.

There was no Jim McMahon.

Jason had already checked.

Twice.

“Dad said Tommy's coach used to have him,” Chloe said.

“He did,” Kathy said.

“Maybe he'll come next time.”

Jason looked hopeful.

Scott Summers was looking somewhere else.

The cheerleaders were everywhere.

Some were performing little routines.

Some were running games.

Some were selling photographs.

Scott watched one of them pose with a middle-aged man.

The man had his arm around her.

His wife stood several feet away.

She didn't look impressed.

Scott frowned.

“Are these cheerleaders or did somebody import them from the Moulin Rouge?”

Lily looked at him.

“Don't be so stuck up.”

“I'm not stuck up.”

“You're being stuck up.”

Scott gestured towards the cheerleaders.

“Look at them.”

“I am.”

Lily smiled.

“They're cute.”

Scott stared at his wife.

Lily continued walking.

Jason stopped.

“Pictures with the cheerleaders?”

Kathy looked at him.

Jason looked at Kathy.

“What?”

Kathy shook her head.

“Go ahead.”

Jason smiled.

“You want one too, Scott?”

“No.”

“Yes, he does,” Lily said.

“I do not.”

Several minutes later, Jason and Scott stood between three Crestview cheerleaders.

Scott looked deeply uncomfortable.

Jason did not.

“Closer,” the photographer said.

Jason happily moved closer.

Scott didn't.

One of the cheerleaders put her arm around him instead.

Scott looked at Lily.

Lily waved.

Kathy shook her head.

The camera clicked.

A photograph slid out.

The photographer handed it to Jason.

“Give it a few minutes.”

Jason, now very pleased with himself, held it carefully by the edges.

Kathy held out her hand.

“What?”

“The picture.”

“It isn't even a picture yet.”

“Give it to me.”

“What?”

“It's mine.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you want it?”

“So I can remember this when you complain about me looking at somebody.”

Jason handed it over.

“That's entrapment.”

Kathy smiled.

---

Kathy was considerably better at trivia.

“Who was the first Crestview player to rush for more than a thousand yards in a season?”

Kathy hit the buzzer.

Jason looked at her.

She answered.

Correct.

“Since when do you know this?”

“I listen when you talk.”

Jason looked touched.

“Really?”

“Sometimes.”

She got the next one right too.

Jason looked considerably less touched.

“You know more about Crestview football than I do.”

“No. I know how to remember things.”

“That sounded insulting.”

“It wasn't supposed to.”

“It still did.”

---

Then there was the mosasaur.

Nobody knew why there was a mosasaur.

Nobody knew how there was a mosasaur.

More importantly, nobody understood how somebody had managed to install an enormous tank beside the football stadium without anyone apparently considering that unusual.

Scott stopped walking.

“No.”

Lily looked at him.

“What?”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

Scott pointed.

“That.”

A large reptilian head briefly broke the surface.

Jason stared.

Kathy stared.

Lily stared.

Chloe's eyes widened.

“Is that a mosasaur?”

“Yes,” Jason said.

“How?”

“I don't know.”

“Why?”

“I don't know.”

A handler stood on a platform beside the tank.

He held up a fish.

The mosasaur appeared to know what this meant.

The crowd gathered.

The handler threw.

The animal exploded from the water.

Its jaws opened.

The fish disappeared.

The mosasaur crashed back into the tank.

Water sprayed over the edge.

The crowd erupted.

Chloe screamed.

“That was amazing!”

Scott stared at the tank.

“I have several questions.”

“So does everybody,” Lily said.

“Where did they get it?”

“I don't know.”

“How did they get it here?”

“I don't know.”

“How did they build that?”

“I don't know.”

“Why is there a mosasaur at a high school football game?”

Lily looked at him.

“Because it's fun?”

Scott stared at her.

Chloe was already moving towards the handler.

“Can I do it?”

“Chloe!”

The handler handed her a fish.

Chloe held it.

She looked considerably less enthusiastic now that she was actually holding a dead fish.

“Ew.”

“You wanted to do it,” Lily called.

“I know!”

The mosasaur waited.

Chloe looked at the fish.

Then the mosasaur.

Then the fish.

“Okay.”

She threw.

Not particularly well.

The mosasaur didn't care.

It launched itself upwards.

The jaws closed around the fish.

Chloe screamed again and ran backwards.

The animal crashed into the water.

Chloe returned to her parents grinning.

“That was awesome.”

Scott stared at her wet hand.

“Don't touch me.”

Chloe immediately reached for him.

“Chloe.”

She laughed.

“Chloe.”

She chased him.

“CHLOE.”

Lily laughed.

---

Eventually the music stopped.

An announcement came over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the gates to the Crestview Nest are now open. Kickoff between your Crestview Crows and the Christ the Savior Saints will begin shortly.”

The crowd started moving.

Jason looked towards the stadium.

“Let's get good seats.”

“Definitely,” Kathy said.

Scott nodded.

Lily looked around.

“Chloe?”

Chloe was already several metres ahead.

“I'm going down front!”

“We're sitting together!”

“I'll find you later!”

“Chloe!”

She disappeared into the crowd.

Scott sighed.

Lily looked at him.

“What?”

“She isn't going to sit with us.”

“Of course she isn't.”

“Why not?”

“Tommy's playing.”

“So?”

Lily stared at him.

Scott sighed again.

“Right.”

The four parents joined the crowd heading towards the stands.

Chloe headed somewhere else.

She wanted the railing.

As close to the field as she could possibly get.

She hadn't made the cheerleading team.

That was unfortunate.

It wasn't going to stop her from cheering.

Not even slightly.

…and if she could find Keisha, even better.

Tommy was about to play his first high school football game.

Whether he started or not, Chloe Summers intended to make absolutely certain he knew she was there.

---

The locker room was loud.

It stopped being loud when Paul Ritter walked in.

“Everybody sit down.”

Players found benches.

Some sat on the floor.

Tommy sat beside Jensen.

Ritter stood in front of them with Wayne Calder.

He looked around.

“All right. First thing.”

Tommy straightened.

So did Jensen.

Ritter had waited until now.

All week, three quarterbacks had taken snaps.

All week, Ritter had refused to name one.

“Jensen.”

Jensen looked up.

“You're starting.”

Jensen froze.

Then smiled.

“Yes, Coach.”

The locker room applauded.

Tommy did too.

He even slapped Jensen on the back.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Tommy meant it.

He was also crushed.

Both could be true.

Ritter looked at him.

“Rydell.”

Tommy straightened again.

“You're number two.”

Tommy nodded.

“Yes, Coach.”

It wasn't what he'd wanted.

…but he was fourteen years old.

He was a freshman.

Jensen was a junior.

…and he was the backup quarterback for Crestview High School.

Tommy tried to remind himself that wasn't bad.

It still felt bad.

Then he noticed something.

“Where's Bobby?”

Jensen looked around.

He hadn't noticed either.

Ritter answered.

“Munson isn't on the team anymore.”

Tommy stared at him.

“What?”

“I cut him.”

“When?”

“Before we came in here.”

Jensen frowned.

“Today?”

“Yes.”

Tommy looked towards Bobby's empty locker.

Yesterday there had been three of them.

Now there were two.

Ritter followed his eyes.

“I hope I only need two quarterbacks this season.”

Nobody laughed.

Ritter didn't expect them to.

Tommy felt bad for Bobby.

So did Jensen.

Neither had much time to think about it.

Ritter slapped the board.

“Christ the Savior.”

Several players smiled.

Ritter didn't.

“Anybody thinks this is funny?”

The smiles disappeared.

“They haven't won a football game in fifteen years unless somebody else didn't show up.”

One player laughed.

Ritter stared at him.

He stopped.

“I don't care.”

Ritter turned towards the board.

“You don't prepare for the team you expect. You prepare for the team that's coming onto the field.”

He pointed at the first diagram.

“Wishbone.”

Three backs were drawn behind the quarterback.

“They're going to run this.”

Ritter looked towards his defence.

“They're going to run it a lot.”

He went through the assignments.

Who took the fullback.

Who watched the quarterback.

Who had responsibility if the ball went outside.

“Do not chase the football.”

He pointed at the diagram again.

“That is what they want.”

He moved his finger between the backs.

“They want you looking at the wrong man. They want you guessing who has it. You don't guess. You do your job.”

Ritter moved to another diagram.

“Now their defence.”

The players watched.

“They've been using this.”

He pointed towards the two safeties.

“Two deep.”

Then the linebackers.

“Middle underneath.”

Calder leaned against the wall.

Ritter continued.

“It's not complicated. That doesn't mean you get stupid.”

He looked directly at Jensen.

“Take what they give you.”

Jensen nodded.

“Yes, Coach.”

“If underneath is open?”

“I take underneath.”

“If the run is there?”

“We run.”

“If nothing's there?”

“I don't force it.”

Ritter nodded.

Tommy knew that last one was for him.

Ritter pointed towards one of the safeties.

“…and this man.”

He wrote a name.

CODY DAMPIER

“Remember it.”

Tommy looked at the board.

“Free safety. Cody Dampier.”

Ritter turned around.

“He is very, very good and very fast.”

He looked at the quarterbacks.

“You don't want to make mistakes around this guy.”

Jensen nodded.

Tommy stared at the name.

Very good.

Very fast.

Tommy wondered how fast.

Ritter saw him.

That was exactly why Jensen was starting.

Jensen would hear very good and very fast and think:

Stay away from him.

Thomas Rydell would hear very good and very fast and think:

I wonder if I can beat him.

Ritter had spent all week trying to teach Thomas that football wasn't a series of personal challenges.

He hadn't succeeded yet.

Jensen had three years of high school football experience, including two years watching the varsity team.

Thomas had none.

If anybody asked, that was the explanation.

It wasn't even a lie.

Ritter looked around the room.

“Christ the Savior does not get fifteen years of losing wiped away tonight because we decided they weren't worth preparing for.”

He pointed towards the door.

“You respect your opponent.”

Then towards the board.

“You know your assignment.”

Then towards the players.

“…and you do your darn job.”

Ritter paused.

“Questions?”

There weren't any.

“Good.”

The players began getting ready.

Tommy stayed seated for another moment.

Jensen nudged him.

“You okay?”

Tommy nodded.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

Tommy looked at him.

Then smiled.

“You better be good.”

Jensen laughed.

“I'll try.”

“You screw up, I'm taking your job.”

“There he is.”

Tommy stood.

He still wanted to start.

Badly.

…but Jensen was his friend.

So Tommy slapped him on the shoulder.

“Go get 'em.”

---

Ritter watched the players file towards the tunnel.

Calder remained behind.

“You know,” Calder said, “there's preparing for an opponent and then there's preparing for Christ the Savior.”

Ritter gathered his papers.

“They run the wishbone.”

“They run into each other.”

“They still run the wishbone.”

“Paul, they haven't actually won in fifteen years.”

“Then they're overdue.”

Calder laughed.

“You seriously think they're going to beat us?”

Ritter looked at him.

“No.”

“Then what was all that?”

Ritter tucked the papers under his arm.

“I don't take any result for granted.”

Calder smiled.

“Even Christ?”

Ritter opened the door.

“Especially Christ.”

Then he headed for the field.

---

Christ the Savior ran onto the field.

That was their introduction.

No names.

No music.

No individual announcements.

They simply emerged from the visitors' tunnel and ran towards their sideline while a few sections of the crowd politely applauded.

Then the lights around the Crestview Nest dimmed.

Christ the Savior had to watch.

Music started playing through the stadium speakers.

It was loud.

Not particularly clear.

…but loud.

The Crestview cheerleaders ran onto the field.

The crowd stood.

Then the announcer began introducing the starting lineup.

One by one, the Crows emerged.

Each player got his name.

His position.

His year.

The crowd cheered.

Some players ran straight towards the sideline.

Others stopped to wave.

One tried to jump through the cheerleaders and nearly knocked two of them over.

It wasn't professional football.

It wasn't college football.

It was about as glamorous as a high school in Provo could make itself in 1980.

John Davis loved every second of it.

He stood near the sideline with one arm around Cali Newsome.

Cali was a reporter for the Provo Caller.

Davis had personally invited her.

He wanted at least one newspaper at the game.

More specifically, he wanted at least one newspaper at the game if Paul Ritter did what Davis hoped Paul Ritter would do.

Cali didn't seem particularly interested in football.

That was fine.

Davis didn't particularly care about football either.

He cared about Crestview.

He cared about publicity.

…and he cared about the possibility that Crestview was about to make history.

Davis pulled Cali slightly closer.

She didn't object.

She never did.

Cali wasn't particularly fond of Davis putting his arm around her.

She wasn't particularly offended by it either.

Mostly, she tolerated it.

Her husband barely touched her anymore.

Sometimes it was nice to remember that somebody wanted to.

“…and starting at quarterback…”

Davis immediately stopped paying attention to everything else.

“Junior…”

He smiled.

“Number twelve…”

Cali looked at him.

“Jensen Munnerlyn!”

The crowd cheered.

Davis threw his free hand into the air.

“Yes!”

Cali laughed.

“I'm guessing that's who you wanted.”

“You have no idea.”

Jensen ran onto the field.

Davis watched him.

A Black starting quarterback.

At Crestview.

In Utah.

…and nobody had bothered to tell him beforehand.

Davis's smile briefly disappeared.

“The press coverage would've been huge.”

Cali looked at him.

“You have press coverage.”

“One newspaper.”

“One excellent newspaper.”

Davis looked at her.

“Of course.”

“You didn't know?”

“Ritter didn't tell me.”

“Maybe he just decided.”

“He could've decided yesterday.”

Cali laughed.

Davis sighed.

At least he'd invited her.

…and at least he had someone to hug.

He squeezed Cali.

She let him.

---

Joey was going to throw up.

She was reasonably certain of that.

She stood near midfield with a microphone in her hand.

Thousands of people surrounded her.

At least it felt like thousands.

Possibly millions.

Joey had dreamed about this.

Not exactly this.

Usually there was a guitar.

Usually the crowd was there specifically to see her.

Usually she wasn't wearing a Crestview cheerleading uniform.

…but she'd imagined standing in front of huge crowds.

She'd imagined people listening to her sing.

She'd imagined becoming a rock star.

Apparently her imagination had forgotten to include the part where she was terrified.

“You okay?”

Polly stood nearby.

“No.”

“You'll be great.”

“I hate you.”

Polly smiled.

“No, you don't.”

“No.”

Joey swallowed.

“I really don't.”

The announcer's voice came through the speakers.

“…and now, before tonight's game, please rise for This Great Western Land, performed by Crestview freshman cheerleader Joey Robertson!”

Applause.

Joey's stomach tightened.

She walked forward.

This had been a terrible idea.

Singing to herself was easy.

Singing with friends was easy.

Dreaming about singing in front of thousands of people was extremely easy.

Actually doing it was different.

Joey looked into the stands.

Too many faces.

She couldn't focus on any of them.

She looked around.

She needed somebody she knew.

Anybody.

Then she found Chloe.

Right against the railing.

Of course she was.

Chloe waved both arms.

Joey smiled.

Then she saw Keisha beside her.

Keisha smiled.

Joey looked at her.

Keisha gave her a thumbs-up.

Something loosened inside Joey.

She took a breath.

Then she started to sing.

The nervousness didn't disappear.

She just stopped listening to it.

Joey sang This Great Western Land beautifully.

Her voice carried across the stadium.

By the middle of the song, she wasn't looking at the ground anymore.

By the end, she wasn't thinking about the crowd.

She was just singing.

She finished.

For a moment there was silence.

Then the Crestview Nest erupted.

Joey froze.

The applause rolled down from the stands.

People stood.

People cheered.

Chloe was screaming.

Keisha was clapping above her head.

Joey stared.

She had another job.

She was supposed to start the game.

She knew the line.

She'd practiced the line.

She couldn't say it.

Her eyes filled.

Joey blinked.

No.

Absolutely not.

She had makeup on.

The crowd got louder.

Joey wiped underneath one eye.

“Stop!”

The crowd got louder.

Joey laughed.

“No!”

Louder.

Joey started crying anyway.

She tried wiping her face again.

“You're ruining my makeup!”

The crowd laughed.

Joey laughed with them.

She couldn't believe this was happening.

She'd spent so much of her life feeling like nobody noticed whether she was there.

Now an entire stadium was cheering because she was.

Joey took another breath.

She raised the microphone.

“All right!”

The crowd settled slightly.

Joey smiled.

“WHO'S READY FOR FOOTBALL?”

The Crestview Nest exploded.

Joey lowered the microphone.

She couldn't stop smiling.

The cheerleaders descended on her almost immediately.

Joey disappeared into hugs.

“You did it!”

“That was amazing!”

“I told you!”

Polly grabbed Joey's face.

“Hold still.”

“What?”

“Your makeup.”

“Oh.”

Polly carefully fixed what Joey's tears had damaged.

“I told them to stop.”

“Yes.”

“They didn't listen.”

“You told them to stop like this.”

Polly grinned and waved her hands towards herself.

Joey laughed.

“I panicked.”

“You encouraged them.”

“I know.”

Jenna Smith came over.

The captain hugged Joey.

Joey hugged her back.

Tightly.

Jenna pulled away.

“I'm proud of you.”

Joey's smile disappeared for a moment.

Not because she was upset.

Because she hadn't expected that.

Jenna smiled.

“You okay?”

Joey nodded.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

Joey looked around.

At Polly.

At Jenna.

At the other cheerleaders.

Then towards the railing.

Chloe was still there.

Keisha was still there.

Joey smiled again.

“Yeah.”

She had never been happier.

---

Paul Ritter had made an unusual choice.

He'd won the toss.

He'd deferred.

Wayne Calder had looked at him.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You don't want the ball?”

“I want it later.”

Ritter's thinking was simple.

If everything went according to plan, Crestview could score near the end of the first half and get the ball right back to begin the second.

Two possessions.

Two touchdowns.

A fourteen-point swing without Christ the Savior's offence getting anywhere near the field.

If the game somehow stayed close, that could break it open.

If it didn't stay close, it could make the score even uglier.

Ritter wanted ugly.

Christ the Savior hadn't won a non-forfeit game in more than fifteen years.

Ritter had no intention of becoming a historical footnote.

The teams lined up for the opening kickoff.

The whistle blew.

Crestview kicked.

The ball sailed downfield.

Xavier Dickinson caught it.

Christ's blockers converged in front of him.

Ritter immediately leaned forward.

The return formed into something resembling a wedge.

Not quite the old-fashioned version.

…but close enough.

Dickinson followed it.

A Crestview defender disappeared into the pile.

Another got turned around.

Then another blocker hit a Crow squarely in the back.

Ritter's arms shot out.

“FLAG!”

Nothing.

Dickinson broke outside.

Another Crestview player moved towards him.

Another block from behind.

“FLAG!”

Still nothing.

The crowd started booing.

Dickinson crossed midfield.

There was nobody left.

“Oh, come on!”

Dickinson sprinted the rest of the way untouched.

Touchdown.

Christ the Savior.

The visitors' sideline erupted.

The Crestview Nest didn't.

Ritter turned towards the nearest official.

“You missed two!”

The official ignored him.

“Two!”

Calder grabbed Ritter's arm.

“Paul.”

“He hit him in the back!”

“I know.”

“Everybody in the stadium knows!”

The extra point was good.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 7
CRESTVIEW 0

Ritter stared at the scoreboard.

Seven points.

Fine.

It was seven points.

A kickoff return.

A couple missed calls.

Nothing more.

Ritter exhaled.

He wasn't coaching the Denver Broncos.

He was coaching high school football in Provo.

The officials were human.

Mistakes happened.

Ritter looked towards the field.

“If only we had video replay to help us…”

Calder looked at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Christ lined up to kick.

“Let's go!” Ritter shouted. “Forget it! Get the ball and play football!”

The kick went high.

Danny Petersen moved underneath it.

Then stopped.

The sun hit him directly in the eyes.

Danny squinted.

Moved left.

Then right.

The ball disappeared.

“Danny!”

It landed.

Danny spun around.

Christ the Savior didn't.

Three Saints converged on the loose ball.

A Crestview player dove for it.

Bodies piled together.

The official ran in.

Christ the Savior football.

The visiting crowd erupted again.

Ritter stared.

Calder stared.

Danny stared.

Then one of the Saints emerged from the pile with the football and kept running.

The officials hadn't blown the play dead.

“GET HIM!”

Nobody did.

Touchdown.

Ritter slowly put both hands on top of his head.

The extra point was good.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 14
CRESTVIEW 0

Nobody said anything.

Ritter looked at the scoreboard.

Then at Calder.

“We haven't touched the ball.”

Calder nodded.

“I know.”

“Fourteen-nothing.”

“I know.”

“We haven't touched the ball.”

“I heard you the first time.”

---

Christ kicked off again.

Danny tracked this one.

He caught it.

The Crestview crowd applauded.

Not because he'd done anything particularly impressive.

Because Crestview had finally successfully acquired possession of a football.

Danny returned it to reasonable field position.

Jensen Munnerlyn jogged onto the field.

Tommy stood on the sideline.

Ritter grabbed Jensen before he went.

“Forget the score.”

Jensen nodded.

“Do not get fourteen points on one play.”

“I know.”

“Take what they give you.”

“Yes, Coach.”

Jensen joined the huddle.

Tommy watched.

First play.

Jensen dropped back.

Short pass.

Completion.

Second play.

Another short pass.

Completion.

First down.

The crowd finally had something to cheer about.

Jensen kept going.

Run.

Short pass.

Another run.

Nothing spectacular.

Nothing dangerous.

Nothing stupid.

Tommy saw something.

“Throw it!”

Jensen didn't.

The receiver had gotten behind the corner.

There was open field ahead.

Tommy stared.

“He had him.”

Ritter said nothing.

“He could've scored.”

“I know.”

“Then why didn't he throw it?”

Ritter looked at Tommy.

“Where was Dampier?”

Tommy looked.

Deep.

Moving towards the receiver.

“He could've beaten him.”

Ritter smiled slightly.

There it was.

“He didn't need to.”

Tommy frowned.

Crestview had another first down.

Ritter was perfectly happy.

Jensen took the next snap.

He dropped back.

Looked underneath.

Then Cody Dampier moved.

Fast.

Very fast.

Jensen never saw him coming.

Dampier came off the edge.

“JENSEN!”

Too late.

Dampier hit him.

Hard.

The ball came loose.

Christ recovered.

The Crestview Nest went silent.

Tommy's eyes widened.

Ritter closed his.

When he opened them again, Christ the Savior had the football at the Crestview ten.

Calder looked at him.

“Still think they're overdue?”

Ritter glared at him.

“Not helping.”

---

Christ came out in the wishbone.

Ritter immediately started shouting.

“Assignments! Watch your assignments!”

The quarterback took the snap.

He put the ball into the fullback's stomach.

Crestview crashed inside.

Exactly what Christ wanted.

The fullback took two steps.

Then somehow managed to pitch the ball sideways.

The halfback caught it in stride.

It wasn't elegant.

It wasn't particularly smooth.

It barely looked intentional.

…but every Crestview defender who mattered was chasing the fullback.

The halfback ran outside.

Nobody was there.

Touchdown.

The Christ the Savior sideline exploded.

The extra point was good.

Ritter looked up.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 21
CRESTVIEW 0

The crowd stared at it.

The Crestview players stared at it.

Tommy stared at it.

Chloe stared at it from the railing.

Jason and Kathy stared at it from the stands.

Even the Christ the Savior players seemed to stare at it.

Twenty-one to nothing.

Christ the Savior.

A team that hadn't won a non-forfeit game in more than fifteen years.

Crestview had run a handful of offensive plays.

Ritter stood on the sideline with his hands on his hips.

Nobody could quite believe what the scoreboard said.

Christ the Savior kicked off again.

Danny Petersen watched the ball.

This time, the sun wasn't the problem.

Danny was.

The kick came down shorter than he expected.

Danny backed up.

Then realized it wasn't going that far.

He ran forward.

The ball bounced.

“Oh, no,” Ritter said.

Danny dove.

Three Saints dove with him.

Christ came out with the football.

Ritter stared at the field.

Calder stared at Ritter.

“Don't.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“Don't.”

Christ the Savior had the ball at the Crestview fifteen.

Danny slowly returned to the sideline.

Ritter pointed towards the bench.

Danny didn't argue.

There really wasn't much to argue about.

He sat down.

---

Christ lined up in the wishbone again.

By now Crestview knew what was coming.

At least theoretically.

The problem was that Christ the Savior seemed to know it couldn't beat Crestview by simply lining up and playing football.

So it didn't.

The quarterback put the ball into the fullback's stomach.

Pulled it back.

Turned.

Pitched.

The halfback reversed direction.

Four yards.

Next play, the quarterback faked the handoff.

Kept it.

Then pitched at the last possible moment.

Three yards.

Next came a reverse.

Then another option.

Then something Ritter wasn't entirely sure had a name.

Christ wasn't necessarily running any of it well.

That almost made it harder.

Half the time Crestview couldn't tell who had the ball because the deception was good.

The other half, Crestview couldn't tell who had the ball because Christ didn't seem entirely certain either.

“They've got ideas,” Calder said.

“I'll give them that.”

Christ lined up again.

The snap.

Handoff.

No.

Pitch.

No.

The ball went backwards.

Then sideways.

Then backwards again.

Ritter watched.

“How many people are supposed to touch the ball?”

Apparently one fewer than Christ had planned.

The final runner turned around expecting the football.

The football hit him in the shoulder.

It bounced onto the turf.

Everyone stopped for half a second.

Then Crestview realized what had happened.

A Crow grabbed it.

The crowd erupted.

“GO!”

He ran.

Forty.

Forty-five.

Midfield.

He was finally dragged down.

Crestview football.

Ritter pumped his fist.

“Finally!”

Calder looked at him.

“A break.”

“A break.”

Ritter didn't care how ugly it had been.

He'd take it.

---

Jensen returned.

Danny didn't.

Danny watched from the bench.

He looked miserable.

Ritter felt bad for him.

Not enough to put him back in.

Jensen took the snap.

Short completion.

Then another.

Then another.

Crestview moved.

Slowly.

Methodically.

Safely.

Exactly how Ritter wanted it.

First down at the Christ twenty-six.

The crowd was finally alive again.

On the next play, Crestview handed it off.

The running back found a gap.

Five yards.

Ritter nodded.

“That's it.”

Twenty-one yard line.

They were moving.

They were finally playing football.

Next play.

Screen.

Jensen dropped back.

The rush came.

Exactly as expected.

He waited.

The running back slipped outside.

Jensen dumped the ball towards him.

Cody Dampier was already there.

Ritter's stomach dropped.

Dampier hadn't been fooled for a second.

He'd seen Crestview run this.

He'd managed to watch enough of their practices to recognize what was coming almost as soon as they lined up.

He exploded towards the play.

The running back caught the ball.

Dampier hit him.

Hard.

The play disappeared backwards.

By the time it ended, Crestview had lost ten yards.

The crowd groaned.

Ritter looked towards the scoreboard.

Fourth down.

He looked at the field.

Then at his kicking unit.

Field goal.

For about three seconds, Ritter seriously considered it.

Then he remembered something important.

He was not coaching the Denver Broncos.

He did not have an NFL kicker.

“Punt team!”

The crowd booed.

Ritter ignored them.

Then he looked at where they were on the field.

He didn't like that either.

Too close.

He thought for a moment.

Then smiled.

Calder saw it.

“Oh, no.”

Ritter didn't answer.

Crestview lined up.

They didn't snap the ball.

The play clock expired.

Whistle.

Delay of game.

The crowd booed louder.

Ritter stood calmly.

Five yards.

Still not enough.

They lined up again.

Calder looked at him.

“You're actually doing it twice?”

“Yes.”

The play clock expired.

Whistle.

Delay of game.

Now the crowd was furious.

Ritter heard several opinions about his intelligence.

He ignored those too.

“Now punt it.”

The punt went high.

It dropped near the goal line.

A Crestview player got underneath it.

The ball bounced.

He stopped it.

The official marked it.

One yard line.

Ritter smiled.

“Perfect.”

The crowd booed.

Ritter looked into the stands.

Still booing.

Loudly.

Mercilessly.

Crestview was down twenty-one points to Christ the Savior.

Ritter had just deliberately taken ten yards in penalties.

Of course they were booing.

Calder stood beside him.

“Think they appreciated the strategy?”

“No.”

“They're still booing.”

“I can hear them.”

Ritter looked towards Christ the Savior's offence.

The Saints had ninety-nine yards behind them.

One yard between the ball and their own end zone.

Ritter folded his arms.

“Let them boo.”

For the first time all night, something had gone exactly according to plan.

Before the game, Chloe had thought this was funny.

That was the problem.

Christ the Savior's players had been warming up on the field.

Chloe and Keisha had already claimed their places against the railing.

Chloe watched the Saints.

Then she smiled.

“Hey!”

A few players looked over.

Chloe raised her voice.

“If you guys actually win tonight, I'll go on a date with one of you!”

Keisha slowly turned towards her.

“Chloe.”

“What?”

Keisha stared.

“What?”

“You have a boyfriend.”

“I know.”

“…and you just offered to go on a date with somebody on the other team.”

Chloe laughed.

“They're not going to win.”

“You don't know that.”

“They're Christ the Savior.”

Keisha looked towards the field.

“So?”

“They haven't won in fifteen years.”

“Except forfeits.”

“Exactly.”

“That still seems dangerous.”

Chloe grinned.

“It's just a joke.”

Unfortunately, somebody had heard the joke.

Xavier Dickinson walked towards the railing.

Chloe noticed him coming.

“Oh.”

Keisha smiled.

“Here we go.”

Xavier stopped in front of Chloe.

“So that's a real offer?”

Chloe looked at him.

“No.”

Xavier laughed.

“You just said it was.”

“I said if you win.”

“Then I hope I can take you up on it.”

Chloe stuck her tongue out at him.

Xavier laughed again.

“See you after the game.”

“Don't count on it!”

Xavier jogged back towards his teammates.

Keisha looked at Chloe.

Chloe shrugged.

“They're not winning.”

---

Christ the Savior was winning.

By twenty-one points.

Chloe stood against the railing staring at the scoreboard.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 21
CRESTVIEW 0

She didn't find her joke funny anymore.

“I shouldn't have said that.”

Keisha was watching the field.

“Probably not.”

Chloe looked at her.

“That wasn't helpful.”

“You want me to lie?”

“No.”

Chloe looked back at the scoreboard.

“Do you think Tommy heard?”

“No.”

“What if somebody tells him?”

“Then somebody tells him.”

“He's going to be mad.”

Keisha finally looked at her.

“Why?”

“Because I told another boy I'd go on a date with him!”

“You told an entire football team you'd go on a date with one of them if they won a game nobody thought they could win.”

“That's worse.”

Keisha laughed.

“Keisha!”

“Sorry.”

Chloe folded her arms.

“I was just having fun.”

“I know.”

“I didn't think they'd actually…”

Chloe looked at the scoreboard again.

Twenty-one to nothing.

She groaned.

“What if I caused this?”

Keisha stared at her.

“What?”

“What if I fired them up?”

“You think Christ the Savior is beating Crestview because you offered somebody a date?”

“Maybe.”

Keisha looked onto the field.

“Then Crestview deserves to lose.”

Chloe's eyes widened.

“Keisha!”

“What?”

“Your brother's playing!”

“I know.”

Keisha pointed towards the field.

“Maybe you fired them up. So what? You didn't miss two kickoffs.”

Chloe said nothing.

“You didn't fumble.”

“No.”

“You didn't let them score three touchdowns.”

“No.”

“Then you didn't do this.”

Chloe looked down.

Keisha leaned against the railing beside her.

“Crestview's playing bad.”

“I know.”

“That's Crestview's fault.”

Chloe sighed.

“Tommy blamed me when he played bad at practice.”

“…and Tommy was wrong.”

Chloe looked at her.

Keisha shrugged.

“If he gets mad at you again because he played bad, then he's wrong again.”

“He isn't even playing.”

“Then he's got even less reason.”

Chloe smiled slightly.

Keisha continued.

“…and you weren't seriously offering to date Xavier.”

“No.”

“So Tommy should know that.”

“He might not.”

“Then explain it.”

Chloe nodded.

She looked towards the Christ sideline.

Xavier was standing there.

He happened to look towards the railing.

He saw Chloe.

He smiled.

Chloe immediately looked away.

“Oh, by Jove.”

Keisha laughed.

“Stop.”

“You're in trouble.”

“Keisha!”

“I'm kidding.”

Chloe looked miserable.

Keisha bumped her shoulder.

“You know you don't actually have to go out with him.”

“I said I would.”

“You were teasing them.”

“I still said it.”

“So?”

Chloe frowned.

Keisha looked at her.

“You don't owe somebody a date because of a joke.”

Chloe thought about that.

“No?”

“No.”

“What if he asks?”

“Say no.”

“That seems mean.”

“He'll survive.”

Chloe looked back towards Xavier.

Then towards the scoreboard.

Twenty-one to nothing.

She groaned.

“Can Crestview please just start playing football?”

Keisha smiled.

“That would solve a lot of problems.”

The Saints' offence came back onto the field.

Chloe grabbed the railing.

“Come on, Crestview!”

Keisha joined her.

For the moment, there was nothing else they could do.

Chloe just hoped that by the end of the night, Xavier Dickinson wouldn't have any reason to remember her offer.

By the time Chloe's joke reached the Crestview sideline, it had changed slightly.

Then it changed again.

Then somebody changed it some more.

One player leaned towards Tommy.

“Hey.”

Tommy looked at him.

“What?”

“Did you hear about Chloe?”

Tommy immediately became interested.

“What about Chloe?”

“If Christ wins, she's marrying Xavier Dickinson after the game.”

Tommy stared at him.

“What?”

“That's what I heard.”

“She's not marrying Xavier.”

Another player joined in.

“She proposed to him before the game.”

“No, she didn't.”

“Apparently she did.”

Tommy shook his head.

“No.”

“She said if Christ wins-”

“I don't care what you heard. Chloe isn't marrying anybody.”

Someone farther down the bench laughed.

“Maybe that's why they're winning.”

Tommy looked over.

“What?”

“She motivated them.”

A few players laughed.

Tommy didn't.

“No!”

They stopped.

“We're losing because we're losing!”

Nobody said anything.

Tommy pointed towards the field.

“We screwed up. They scored. That's why we're losing.”

He stood.

Then walked away from them.

Tommy stopped beside Ritter.

Ritter glanced at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Tommy folded his arms and watched the field.

Behind him, the conversation about Chloe's impending marriage ended.

---

Christ the Savior had the ball at its own one.

Ritter almost felt good about this.

Almost.

“Ninety-nine yards,” Calder said.

“I know.”

“Even they can't-”

“Don't.”

Calder stopped.

Ritter had learned enough tonight.

Christ lined up.

The ball was snapped.

Crestview rushed.

Then Ritter saw the line.

“Oh, come on!”

One Crestview defender was grabbed.

Another tried to get through and couldn't.

A third was practically being hugged in the end zone.

“THAT'S HOLDING!”

No flag.

“HE'S HOLDING HIM IN THE END ZONE!”

Nothing.

It should have been a safety.

Instead, the quarterback had something Christ the Savior's quarterback had rarely enjoyed.

Time.

He dropped back.

Looked downfield.

Then threw.

The ball went high.

It wobbled.

Ritter watched it.

Tommy watched it.

Everyone watched it.

It was terrible.

The Crestview safety settled underneath.

Ritter relaxed.

Finally.

The safety moved forward.

Then backwards.

Then forward again.

“No…”

He misjudged it.

Badly.

The ball looked like it was going to sail over him.

A Christ receiver turned.

The ball hit the Crestview safety’s helmet in front of him.

Then bounced straight into the receiver’s hands.

For a moment, the receiver seemed as surprised as everybody else.

Then he noticed something.

There was nobody between him and the end zone.

He ran.

The Crestview crowd began making a sound that wasn't quite booing.

It was worse.

It was disbelief.

The receiver crossed midfield.

Forty.

Thirty.

Twenty.

Nobody caught him.

Ten.

Touchdown.

Christ the Savior.

Ritter didn't move.

Neither did Tommy.

Neither did Jensen.

The Saints celebrated in the end zone.

Calder stared at the field.

“I'd like to wake up now.”

Ritter said nothing.

“Any time.”

The extra point was good.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 28
CRESTVIEW 0

Calder looked at the scoreboard.

“This is a dream.”

“No.”

“Nightmare?”

“Yes.”

“Can I wake up?”

“No.”

Calder sighed.

The crowd was furious.

Some booed.

Some shouted.

Some just sat there.

Ritter looked towards Jensen.

Jensen hadn't been bad.

That was almost the problem.

He'd done what Ritter asked.

He'd taken the short passes.

He'd moved the football.

He hadn't challenged Dampier unnecessarily.

Then Dampier had come to him.

Jensen had made sensible decisions.

He'd played controlled football.

Crestview was losing twenty-eight to nothing.

Ritter looked beside him.

Tommy was still there.

Fourteen years old.

Freshman.

Backup quarterback.

An extraordinary arm attached to a brain Ritter still didn't trust.

Ritter looked at the scoreboard again.

Twenty-eight points.

Playing safe wasn't going to fix this anymore.

If Crestview was going to get back into this game, Ritter needed something.

Maybe something stupid.

Maybe something spectacular.

Probably both.

He looked at Tommy.

“Rydell.”

Tommy immediately turned.

“Yes, Coach?”

Ritter hesitated.

This could go very badly.

Then again, everything had already gone very badly.

“Tommy, you're in.”

Tommy stared at him.

“I'm in?”

“You're in.”

Tommy grabbed his helmet.

Ritter caught his arm before he could run away.

“Thomas.”

Tommy stopped.

“Don't make me regret this.”

Tommy put on his helmet.

“I won't.”

Ritter watched him run onto the field.

Calder stepped beside him.

“You believe him?”

“No.”

Ritter folded his arms.

“…but right now, I'll take my chances.”

Tommy ran onto the field.

Then the nerves hit him.

He'd dreamed about this.

He'd dreamed about being Crestview's quarterback.

He'd dreamed about running onto the field while thousands of people cheered.

He'd dreamed about throwing touchdowns.

He hadn't dreamed about Crestview losing twenty-eight to nothing to Christ the Savior.

Tommy entered the huddle.

Everybody looked at him.

That didn't help.

He called the play.

They broke.

Tommy lined up behind center.

He looked at the defence.

Then the crowd.

Then the defence again.

His heart was pounding.

He took a breath.

Then another.

The play clock continued running.

“Come on, Tommy,” Ritter muttered.

Tommy breathed again.

“Rydell!”

Tommy looked at the clock.

“Oh.”

He hurried.

“Set!”

The ball was snapped just in time.

Tommy dropped back.

Eric Vincent broke open from the slot.

Tommy saw him.

He threw.

Hard.

Very hard.

The ball hit Eric's hands.

It bounced upwards.

Ritter's stomach went with it.

A Christ defender reached for it.

The ball bounced again.

Then fell harmlessly to the ground.

Incomplete.

Ritter exhaled.

Eric returned to the huddle.

Tommy immediately looked at him.

“Sorry.”

Eric shook his hands.

“Maybe don't throw it so hard.”

“Okay.”

Eric looked at him.

“Seriously.”

“Okay.”

Second down.

Tommy took the snap.

He went through his reads.

Outside.

There might be something there.

Then Tommy saw Cody Dampier.

He remembered Ritter.

You don't want to make mistakes around this guy.

Tommy looked elsewhere.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Then Terry Rasmussen moved into a tiny opening.

Tommy saw it.

It wasn't going to stay open long.

There was only one way to get the ball there.

Tommy fired.

The ball flew between two defenders.

Terry caught it.

Easily.

Tommy blinked.

Terry turned upfield.

One defender hit him.

Terry kept going.

Another tried.

Terry dragged him several yards.

By the time Christ finally brought him down, Crestview had gained twenty.

The crowd came alive.

Tommy ran towards the huddle.

Terry looked at him.

“That all you got?”

Tommy smiled.

“Oh, I like you.”

---

Next play.

Play-action.

Christ didn't bite.

Tommy looked downfield.

Covered.

Covered.

Covered.

Then he saw it.

The middle.

Nobody was there.

Tommy tucked the football.

Ritter's eyes widened.

“Go!”

Tommy ran.

Five yards.

Eight.

The first-down marker approached.

A defender closed in.

Tommy crossed the sticks.

Then slid.

Ritter clapped.

“Good!”

Tommy got up.

He'd wanted to keep running.

He hadn't.

That counted as progress.

Christ adjusted.

On the next play, a linebacker stayed with Tommy.

Ritter noticed.

“They're spying him.”

Calder nodded.

“That didn't take long.”

Tommy noticed too.

Fine.

If Christ wanted somebody watching him, that was one fewer person watching somebody else.

Terry found another opening.

Tommy fired.

Terry caught it.

Again.

Tommy smiled.

Apparently Terry Rasmussen didn't care how hard Tommy threw the football.

Second down.

Crestview was moving.

The crowd could feel it.

So could Christ.

---

The ball was snapped.

The protection collapsed immediately.

Tommy didn't see it.

A defender came from his blind side.

He hit Tommy hard.

The ball flew loose.

The crowd screamed.

Ritter's heart stopped.

“BALL!”

Players dove.

Terry Rasmussen got there first.

He scooped it up.

A Christ defender was already on him.

Whistle.

Down.

Crestview football.

Ritter exhaled.

Again.

Tommy got up slowly.

Terry handed the ball to the official.

“You okay?”

Tommy nodded.

“Yeah.”

He looked towards the blockers.

They knew.

Nobody needed to say anything.

Third and long.

Very long.

Christ knew it too.

The Saints backed off.

The rushers looked ready.

The defensive backs looked ready.

Cody Dampier looked particularly ready.

Ritter folded his arms.

“Oh, boy.”

Calder looked at him.

“What?”

“I don't want to watch.”

“You're the coach.”

“I know.”

“That seems like an important part of the job.”

Ritter watched.

---

Tommy took the snap.

He dropped back.

Eric was underneath.

Open.

Tommy saw him.

He could throw it there.

Easy completion.

A few yards.

Then Crestview would punt.

No.

They needed the first down.

Tommy looked deeper.

Cody Dampier was watching him.

Tommy remembered everything Ritter had told him.

Don't challenge Cody.

Don't force the football.

Take what the defence gives you.

Tommy looked towards one side of the field.

Cody followed his eyes.

Tommy kept looking.

Cody started moving.

Then Tommy turned.

Danny Petersen was going the other way.

Tommy planted.

He threw.

Deep.

Very deep.

Ritter watched the ball leave Tommy's hand.

“No…”

Cody turned.

Too late.

The football sailed over him.

Danny looked up.

The ball dropped into his hands.

He caught it.

The crowd erupted.

Danny ran.

Nobody was in front of him.

Twenty.

Ten.

End zone.

Touchdown.

Crestview.

Tommy threw both arms into the air.

The Crestview Nest exploded.

Chloe screamed from the railing.

Keisha screamed beside her.

The entire Crestview sideline poured towards Tommy.

Ritter didn't move.

He stared at the field.

Tommy had done exactly what Ritter had spent all week trying to stop him from doing.

He'd challenged Cody Dampier.

Except he hadn't.

Not really.

He'd used Cody.

Ritter slowly smiled.

“Son of a gun!”

Calder laughed.

The kicking team came out.

The extra point went wide.

Ritter's smile disappeared.

“Of course.”

The scoreboard changed.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 28
CRESTVIEW 6

It was still ugly.

Very ugly.

…but Crestview was finally on the board.

Tommy came off the field.

Ritter stopped him.

Tommy was grinning.

Ritter looked at him.

“You looked Dampier off.”

Tommy nodded.

“I knew he'd follow me.”

“You had Vincent underneath.”

“I know.”

“Could've taken the easy completion.”

“We needed the first down.”

Ritter stared at him for a moment.

That was the problem.

Thomas Rydell hadn't played safe.

…but for once, he hadn't merely refused to play safe.

He'd understood why he was taking the risk.

Ritter slapped the side of Tommy's helmet.

“Good throw.”

Tommy's grin grew.

“Thanks, Coach.”

He ran towards his teammates.

Ritter watched him go.

Twenty-eight to six.

A freshman quarterback.

A defence full of holes.

A team that had spent most of the first quarter trying to lose in increasingly creative ways.

Ritter looked at the scoreboard.

For the first time all night, he thought Crestview might actually have a football game.

The extra point had been bad.

The kickoff was worse.

It sailed towards the sideline.

Then kept sailing.

Ritter watched it.

“No.”

Out of bounds.

The whistle blew.

Ritter slowly looked towards the sky.

He'd spent the entire week worrying about quarterbacks.

Bobby couldn't throw deep.

Jensen was solid but unspectacular.

Tommy had enough physical talent for three quarterbacks and occasionally enough judgment for none.

Apparently Ritter had been worried about the wrong position.

Calder stepped beside him.

“Kicker?”

“I don't have one.”

“You have someone kicking.”

“That is becoming increasingly difficult to defend.”

---

Christ the Savior took possession with excellent field position.

Then Christ the Savior reminded everybody why excellent field position hadn't resulted in a non-forfeit victory in fifteen years.

They lined up in the wishbone.

Ritter shouted towards his defence.

“Assignments!”

The quarterback took the snap.

Fake to the fullback.

Pitch to the halfback.

No.

The halfback handed it back.

Or tried to.

The exchange went wrong.

The football hit the ground.

This time Crestview wasn't fooled.

The defence descended on it.

Crestview ball.

Near midfield.

The crowd erupted.

Ritter pointed towards the field.

“OFFENCE!”

Tommy grabbed his helmet.

There wasn't much time left in the half.

He knew it.

Ritter knew it.

Everybody knew it.

Crestview needed points.

Fast.

---

Tommy took the snap.

The pocket held.

Danny Petersen went deep.

Eric Vincent went deep on the other side.

Cody Dampier watched Tommy.

Tommy looked towards Danny.

Cody started moving.

Tommy immediately turned and fired the other way.

Eric was open.

Very open.

The ball came down.

Eric reached for it.

It went through his hands.

Incomplete.

The sound that came from the Crestview Nest wasn't quite a boo.

It was thousands of people groaning simultaneously.

Eric stood there for a moment.

That had been a touchdown.

He knew it.

Tommy knew it.

Everyone knew it.

Eric returned to the huddle.

“My fault.”

Tommy nodded.

“Next one.”

Eric looked at him.

Tommy smiled.

“I won't throw it so hard.”

That got a smile out of Eric.

---

Next play.

Tommy took the snap.

The protection collapsed.

This time he saw it.

Tommy escaped.

A defender chased him.

Tommy rolled away.

Terry Rasmussen broke open.

Tommy was still moving when he threw.

The ball came out like a dart.

Terry caught it.

Then Terry ran into a defender.

…and kept running.

Another Saint joined in.

Terry kept running.

A third finally helped bring him down.

First down.

Tommy hurried everyone back.

Terry was becoming his favourite person.

More importantly, Christ knew it.

They were paying more attention to him.

They were adjusting their coverage.

They were trying to take him away.

It wasn't working.

Cody Dampier noticed that too.

Cody noticed everything.

He watched Tommy.

The freshman was harder to read than most quarterbacks.

Partly because Tommy was talented.

Partly because Tommy was inexperienced.

Partly because sometimes Tommy didn't seem to know what he was going to do until he did it.

…but Cody was learning.

Little things.

Where Tommy looked.

How long he looked.

What his shoulders did.

How his feet moved.

Every snap gave Cody something else.

---

Tommy took the next one.

Again, the pocket disappeared.

He moved.

Danny was going deep.

Cody was nearby.

Tommy looked away.

Cody didn't move.

Tommy looked somewhere else.

Still nothing.

Tommy knew what Cody was doing.

He's watching me.

Eric was another possibility.

Tommy saw him.

Then remembered the drop.

He looked back towards Danny.

Cody was still there.

Too close.

Tommy should have gone somewhere else.

He knew that.

He threw anyway.

Cody reacted.

Tommy's stomach dropped.

For half a second, he thought he'd made a terrible mistake.

Then Cody went the wrong way.

He'd read Tommy's throwing motion incorrectly.

The ball sailed past him.

Danny caught it.

Tommy exhaled.

Danny didn't have anybody left to beat.

He ran into the end zone.

Touchdown.

The Crestview Nest exploded again.

Tommy didn't celebrate immediately.

He looked at Cody.

Cody looked back at him.

That had been close.

Much too close.

Tommy knew it.

Cody probably knew it too.

The scoreboard changed.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 28
CRESTVIEW 12

Ritter looked towards his kicking unit.

Then he looked away.

“No.”

Calder laughed.

“What?”

“We're not doing that again.”

Ritter held up two fingers.

“Two!”

The offence stayed on the field.

Tommy returned to the huddle.

They lined up.

Snap.

Terry found a small opening.

Tommy fired.

Terry caught it.

Two points.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 28
CRESTVIEW 14

Ritter nodded.

That looked considerably better.

Then he remembered they had to kick the ball again.

His expression changed.

Calder noticed.

“What now?”

Ritter pointed towards the punter.

“You.”

The punter looked around.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Kickoff?”

“Yes.”

“I punt.”

“Congratulations. You've been promoted.”

The punter ran onto the field.

Ritter watched him.

All he wanted was a football that stayed somewhere between the sidelines.

At this point, that would be enough.

The punter kicked off.

Ritter watched the football sail downfield.

Straight.

Actually straight.

Between the sidelines.

“Thank you.”

Then it kept going.

The Christ returner backed up.

…and backed up.

Then realized he'd badly misjudged it.

The ball sailed over his head.

He turned and ran.

The football came down near the goal line.

It bounced.

The returner scrambled after it.

So did Crestview.

A Crow got there first.

He scooped up the football at the one.

Then, apparently deciding the moment required something more dramatic, he launched himself into the end zone.

Touchdown.

For a moment, the Crestview Nest seemed confused.

Then the officials raised their arms.

The stadium erupted.

Ritter stared.

Calder stared.

“Did we just-”

“Yes.”

“On a kickoff?”

“Yes.”

Calder looked at Ritter.

“You found a kicker.”

Ritter smiled.

“I found a kicker.”

The scoreboard changed.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 28
CRESTVIEW 20

Suddenly, this was a football game.

A few minutes ago, Crestview had been down twenty-eight to nothing.

Now they were six points behind.

Ritter held up two fingers again.

There was no chance he was sending his original kicker onto the field.

Crestview lined up.

Christ had seen the pass to Terry Rasmussen before.

Ritter knew they'd be looking for it.

So did Tommy.

The ball was snapped.

Handoff.

Christ crashed towards the line.

The running back disappeared.

The pile moved.

Then stopped.

Nobody knew.

Tommy looked towards the officials.

The Crestview sideline looked towards the officials.

Christ started celebrating.

So did Crestview.

One side was wrong.

The officials dug through the pile.

Finally, two arms went up.

Successful.

The Crestview Nest exploded again.

Christ's sideline erupted for a different reason.

Several Saints surrounded the nearest official.

One pointed furiously towards the turf.

Another insisted the runner's knee had been down.

The official listened.

Then walked away.

The scoreboard changed.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 28
CRESTVIEW 22

Ritter smiled.

Calder looked at him.

“Twenty-eight nothing.”

“I remember.”

“Six-point game.”

“I can count.”

“Just making sure.”

---

The punter kicked off again.

Another beauty.

The Christ returner misjudged this one too.

He recovered in time.

Barely.

He picked up the ball and managed about a yard before Crestview buried him.

The crowd roared.

Christ was pinned deep.

Now Crestview believed.

The defence believed.

The crowd believed.

Everybody in the stadium could feel the game turning.

That was exactly when Crestview became too excited.

Christ lined up in the wishbone.

The quarterback took the snap.

This time there was no elaborate trick.

No reverse.

No extra pitch.

No attempt to confuse everybody.

He simply handed the football to the fullback.

Crestview attacked.

Hard.

Too hard.

The fullback hit the middle.

Then came out the other side.

Ritter's eyes widened.

“No.”

The linebackers had overcommitted.

The fullback reached the second level.

A defender tried to bring him down.

He shed him.

Another took a bad angle.

Suddenly there was nobody left.

The fullback ran.

The Crestview crowd went quiet.

Forty.

Thirty.

Twenty.

Ten.

Touchdown.

Christ the Savior.

Ritter closed his eyes.

Calder sighed.

“Twenty-eight nothing.”

“Wayne.”

“Six-point game.”

“Wayne.”

“Now this.”

“Wayne.”

“I'll stop.”

The scoreboard changed.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 34
CRESTVIEW 22

Christ decided to go for two.

Perhaps they were feeling confident.

Perhaps they didn't trust their kicker.

Ritter could sympathize.

They lined up.

The quarterback took the snap.

The play collapsed almost immediately.

Crestview swallowed the runner behind the line.

No conversion.

Ritter clapped.

“Good! That's done! Forget the touchdown!”

There was almost no time left.

One second.

Christ lined up for the kickoff.

Ritter looked at the clock.

“One second.”

Calder nodded.

“One.”

Christ wasn't taking any chances.

They squibbed it.

The ball bounced along the field.

Eric Vincent grabbed it.

He ran.

One defender came towards him.

Eric slipped past.

The crowd came alive.

Another Saint missed.

Eric found some space.

For just a moment, something ridiculous seemed possible.

“GO!”

Eric crossed midfield.

Then Christ finally brought him down.

The whistle blew.

The clock hit zero.

Halftime.

Eric stayed on the ground for a moment.

So did several Saints.

The crowd applauded him as he got back up.

Ritter looked towards the scoreboard.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 34
CRESTVIEW 22

He'd wanted a blowout.

Technically, he'd gotten one.

Just not the one he'd had in mind.

…but Crestview had been down twenty-eight to nothing.

They'd scored twenty-two points.

They'd found a quarterback.

They'd apparently found a kicker.

…and somehow, despite everything that had happened, they were still in this.

Ritter headed towards the locker room.

Now he had fifteen minutes to figure out how to stop Christ the Savior from scoring another thirty-four points.

The football players left the field.

The cheerleaders took it.

Joey trotted out with the rest of the squad.

Chloe immediately screamed.

“JOEY!”

Keisha joined her.

“JOEY!”

Joey heard them.

She looked towards the railing.

There they were.

Chloe was waving both arms.

Keisha was jumping up and down.

Joey smiled and waved back.

Polly Travis was holding her other hand.

“Your fan club?”

“My friends.”

Polly looked towards them.

“The little one's really excited.”

Joey smiled.

“That's Keisha.”

“Oh.”

Polly looked at Joey.

Joey looked at Polly.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Joey narrowed her eyes.

Polly smiled.

Then the music started.

The cheerleaders moved.

Joey moved with them.

Yesterday, she'd still been thinking about everything.

Where her feet went.

Where her hands went.

Whether she was early.

Whether she was late.

Whether somebody was watching her.

Tonight, everybody was watching her.

Joey loved it.

The crowd cheered.

Joey smiled.

They cheered louder.

Joey pushed herself harder.

Every time she heard them, she seemed to find something else.

More energy.

More confidence.

More Joey.

She jumped.

Turned.

Landed.

Perfectly.

The crowd reacted.

Joey soaked it in.

She understood now.

She understood why people wanted this.

Why singers wanted stages.

Why performers wanted crowds.

Why somebody could hear thousands of people cheering and spend the rest of their life trying to hear it again.

Joey was having fun.

Real fun.

She wasn't pretending not to care.

She wasn't protecting herself.

She wasn't wondering when somebody would decide she didn't belong.

She belonged.

…and she knew it.

The cheerleaders finished.

The crowd roared.

Joey raised both arms.

Chloe screamed again.

Keisha screamed louder.

Joey laughed.

The cheerleaders had also managed to make up for the marching band.

The marching band had played reasonably well.

The marching part had been more complicated.

At one point, half the band had turned left.

The other half had turned right.

Two trumpet players nearly collided.

One drummer appeared to forget he was supposed to be moving at all.

Eventually they abandoned whatever formation they'd been attempting and concentrated on playing music.

This worked better.

---

The cheerleaders remained on the field.

Joey thought they were finished.

Then Jenna Smith walked towards her.

She was holding a microphone.

Joey looked at it.

Then at Jenna.

“No.”

Jenna handed it to her.

“What am I doing?”

“The Impossible Question.”

Joey stared.

“You didn't tell me about this.”

“I just did.”

“Jenna.”

“You'll be great.”

Joey looked at the microphone.

Then towards the crowd.

This morning, that would have terrified her.

Now?

Joey smiled.

“Okay.”

She took it.

“HELLO, CRESTVIEW!”

The crowd responded.

Joey's smile grew.

“Oh, I could get used to this.”

The crowd laughed.

Joey walked across the field.

“All right! It's time for the Impossible Question!”

Applause.

“…and apparently nobody thought they should tell me I was doing this until about ten seconds ago.”

More laughter.

Joey looked towards Jenna.

“Thank you, Jenna.”

Jenna waved.

Joey turned back towards the stands.

“Tonight's prize…”

She paused.

“Two tickets to BYU's home opener against San Diego State!”

That got attention.

Joey looked around.

“All I need is somebody brave enough to try.”

A few hands went up.

Some people shifted around.

One woman was considerably more enthusiastic than everybody else.

Joey pointed.

“You!”

Kathy Rydell looked around.

Jason pointed at her.

“She means you.”

“I know!”

Kathy made her way down.

Tommy's mother.

Joey laughed.

Of course.

Kathy joined her.

Joey hugged her.

“Hi, Mrs. Rydell.”

“Hi, Joey.”

“You want those tickets?”

“Very much.”

“Mr. Rydell want them?”

Kathy looked towards Jason.

Jason was already celebrating.

“I think so.”

Joey laughed.

“All right. Here's how this works.”

She turned towards the crowd.

“Mrs. Rydell gets a question. If she doesn't know the answer, she can pass.”

Joey held up two fingers.

“…but she can only pass twice.”

She lowered one finger.

“The third question has to be answered.”

Kathy nodded.

“…and if you answer any question incorrectly, you lose.”

Kathy's expression changed.

“Immediately?”

“Immediately.”

“That's mean.”

“It's called the Impossible Question.”

The crowd laughed.

Joey picked up the first card.

“Ready?”

“I think so.”

Joey read.

“What city changed hands under the Treaty of Matamoros?”

Kathy stared.

Joey waited.

Kathy continued staring.

Jason shouted something from the stands.

Kathy turned.

“Don't help me!”

Joey laughed.

“Do you know it?”

“No.”

“Want to guess?”

“No.”

“Good decision.”

Kathy looked at her.

“Pass.”

“That's one.”

Joey took the next card.

“Question number two.”

She read it.

“What is the atomic number of cobalt?”

Kathy froze.

The crowd became quiet.

Joey looked at her.

Kathy looked upwards.

“Cobalt…”

Joey waited.

“Twenty…”

Kathy stopped.

Joey immediately raised a finger.

“Remember. If you answer and you're wrong, you're done.”

Kathy looked at her.

“So if you don't know-”

“Pass.”

“Exactly.”

Kathy thought.

She could pass.

Then she'd have to answer the third question.

She looked towards Jason.

Jason shrugged.

No help there.

Kathy looked back at Joey.

“Twenty-seven?”

Joey didn't react.

Kathy's eyes widened.

“Was that wrong?”

Joey looked at the card.

Then at Kathy.

Then smiled.

“Twenty-seven is correct!”

Kathy screamed.

The crowd cheered.

Jason threw both arms into the air.

Kathy hugged Joey.

Joey hugged her back.

“You scared me!”

“I didn't do anything!”

“You made that face!”

“What face?”

“That face!”

Joey laughed.

She handed Kathy the tickets.

“Two tickets to BYU versus San Diego State!”

Kathy held them up.

Jason cheered again.

Joey raised the microphone.

“All right!”

The crowd responded.

Joey looked around the Crestview Nest.

She'd sung in front of them.

She'd performed for them.

Now she'd made them laugh.

This was becoming easier very quickly.

Possibly too quickly.

Joey smiled.

“Now that we've given away our tickets…”

She glanced towards the scoreboard.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 34
CRESTVIEW 22

“…how about we go win a football game?”

The crowd roared.

Joey raised her arm.

“IT'S TIME FOR THE SECOND HALF!”

The cheerleaders erupted around her.

Joey handed the microphone back to Jenna.

Jenna smiled.

“Natural.”

Joey smiled back.

She was starting to think so too.

Paul Ritter stared at the board.

He had fifteen minutes to fix this.

Preferably fewer.

He wrote:

34–22

Then stared at it.

Christ the Savior had scored thirty-four points.

Christ the Savior.

Ritter rubbed his forehead.

Normally halftime adjustments weren't this difficult.

You watched what the other team was doing.

You identified tendencies.

You figured out what was working.

You figured out what wasn't.

Then you adjusted.

The problem was that the first half hadn't resembled a normal football game.

Two botched kickoffs.

A kickoff return.

Turnovers.

Missed penalties.

A ninety-nine-yard touchdown off a pass that should have been intercepted.

Wishbone plays that occasionally seemed to confuse Christ as much as Crestview.

A fullback running almost the entire field because Crestview got too aggressive.

What exactly was Ritter supposed to learn from that?

He looked at the board again.

Quarterback was easy.

RYDELL

Tommy was staying in.

Jensen hadn't done anything particularly wrong.

Tommy had simply given the offence something Jensen hadn't.

Explosiveness.

Risk too.

Lots of risk.

Ritter would live with it.

For now.

Then there was Terry Rasmussen.

Ritter wrote his name.

Thomas had found him repeatedly.

More importantly, Terry could handle Thomas' arm.

If Tommy threw a football hard enough to kill a normal receiver, Terry simply caught it and kept running.

Christ had already started adjusting to him.

Good.

Let them.

Every defender paying extra attention to Terry was one who couldn't pay attention somewhere else.

Ritter wrote:

PUNTER = KICKER

That adjustment required considerably less thought.

Then he got to the defence.

Ritter leaned back.

Christ was making mistakes.

Lots of them.

Their wishbone had produced turnovers because they were trying to do too much with it.

So pressure them.

Force them to make decisions faster.

Make those complicated exchanges even harder.

Ritter started drawing.

More pressure from the linebackers.

Attack the backfield.

Don't give the quarterback time to read anything.

Make Christ execute under pressure.

He stopped.

The fullback.

Ritter stared at the board.

The last time Crestview had gotten aggressive, everybody had attacked.

The fullback had gone through the middle.

Nobody was left.

Touchdown.

Ritter erased part of what he'd drawn.

“Fine.”

Pressure.

…but disciplined pressure.

Everybody keeps their assignment.

Nobody chases.

Nobody overcommits.

Play smarter.

Ritter nodded.

That was it.

“Just get them to play smarter.”

He paused.

Then remembered who he was coaching.

Fourteen-year-olds.

Fifteen-year-olds.

Sixteen-year-olds.

Seventeen-year-olds.

This wasn't the Denver Broncos.

Ritter sighed.

“Right.”

He went back to the board.

Eventually, something resembling a plan emerged.

Pressure Christ without abandoning assignments.

Make the wishbone execute perfectly.

Trust that it wouldn't.

Keep Tommy aggressive without letting him become reckless.

Use Terry.

Take the opportunities Christ gave them.

…and under no circumstances let the original kicker touch a football with his foot.

Good enough.

Ritter entered the locker room.

The players quieted.

He looked around.

Normally this was where the speech went.

Twenty-eight to nothing.

Then twenty-eight to twenty-two.

Then thirty-four to twenty-two.

Ritter could yell.

He could inspire.

He could tell them about pride.

He could remind them who they were playing.

He didn't need to.

He saw their faces.

They knew.

Nobody in that room thought Crestview should be losing to Christ the Savior.

Nobody had an excuse.

Good.

Ritter walked to the board.

“Rydell.”

Tommy looked up.

“You're staying in.”

Tommy nodded.

“Yes, Coach.”

Jensen looked disappointed.

Ritter noticed.

He'd deal with that later.

“Rasmussen.”

Terry looked up.

“Keep doing what you're doing.”

Terry smiled.

“That it?”

“That's it.”

A few players laughed.

Ritter pointed towards the defence.

“They're beating us with confusion. Stop being confused.”

He drew the wishbone.

“They want you chasing the football. Don't.”

He pointed towards the assignments.

“We're bringing more pressure. That does not mean everybody gets to become a hero.”

He looked around.

“You have a man. You have a gap. You have a responsibility. Do it.”

Ritter pointed towards the middle.

“If that fullback gets through untouched again, I'm going to lose my mind.”

A few players smiled.

“Christ can't execute this offence cleanly when we give them time. I don't think they're going to suddenly get better when we take the time away.”

Calder smiled from the back.

Ritter continued.

“They're going to make mistakes.”

He pointed towards the players.

“When they do, take the football.”

Simple.

Ritter looked around the room one more time.

No grand speech.

No screaming.

No promises.

Just football.

“You know why we're losing.”

Nobody answered.

“You know what we have to fix.”

A few nodded.

Ritter stepped away from the board.

“So fix it.”

He pointed towards the door.

“Go execute.”

The players stood.

Helmets went on.

Tommy joined them.

Jensen followed.

Terry slapped Tommy on the shoulder as they headed towards the tunnel.

Ritter watched them leave.

Then Calder walked beside him.

“That was your halftime speech?”

“Yes.”

“Go execute?”

“Yes.”

Calder nodded.

“Hope it works.”

Ritter picked up his headset.

“So do I.”

Crestview received the second-half kickoff.

Danny Petersen caught this one.

That alone represented an improvement over much of the first half.

He found a seam, made one defender miss and gave Crestview decent field position.

Tommy ran onto the field.

The scoreboard still wasn't pretty.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 34
CRESTVIEW 22

…but it was manageable.

Score here and they were right back in it.

Get eight and they'd be within four.

More importantly, Ritter wanted Christ to feel it.

Christ wasn't accustomed to winning football games.

Put them under enough pressure and maybe they'd start remembering why.

Tommy took the snap.

His first instinct was deep.

Cody Dampier couldn't cover everybody.

Could he?

Tommy looked left.

Cody watched.

Tommy looked right.

Cody watched.

Tommy looked back towards the middle.

Cody still watched.

Who are you covering?

Tommy tried looking him off again.

Nothing.

Cody wasn't moving.

Tommy waited.

…and waited.

Ritter's expression changed.

“Throw it.”

Tommy couldn't decide.

“Throw it!”

Too late.

The pocket collapsed.

Tommy tried to escape.

There was nowhere to go.

A Saint grabbed him.

Another finished it.

Tommy went down hard.

Sack.

Chloe immediately stopped cheering.

Kathy grabbed Jason's arm.

Ritter's heart jumped into his throat.

Tommy remained on the ground.

One second.

Two.

Three.

“Get up,” Ritter muttered.

Tommy finally moved.

He rolled over.

Then pushed himself up.

Chloe exhaled.

So did Kathy.

So did Ritter.

Tommy hurt.

Nothing serious.

He'd mostly stayed down because he was angry.

He'd caused that sack.

Not the offensive line.

Not the receivers.

Not Cody.

Him.

He'd spent too much time trying to beat one player instead of playing football.

Tommy returned to the huddle.

---

Second down.

Tommy dropped back.

This time there was no dancing with Cody.

Terry Rasmussen.

Tommy fired.

Terry reached.

The ball hit his hands.

…and fell.

Incomplete.

Terry stared at it.

Then hurried back to the huddle.

“My fault.”

Tommy shook his head.

“Forget it.”

“I should've caught it.”

“I said forget it.”

Terry nodded.

They had considerably more important problems.

Third and long.

Ritter looked at the field.

Obvious passing down.

Christ knew it.

Crestview knew it.

Everybody in the stadium knew it.

Ritter smiled.

Calder saw the expression.

“What?”

“Draw.”

Calder looked at him.

“Third and long?”

“Yes.”

Calder stared.

Ritter shrugged.

“They're not the Broncos.”

The play came in.

Tommy heard it.

For a moment, he wondered whether he'd heard correctly.

Then he lined everyone up.

Christ prepared for the pass.

Exactly as Ritter wanted.

Tommy took the snap.

Dropped back.

The Saints came.

Tommy turned.

Handed the ball to Cal Norstrom.

Cal hit the middle.

There was nobody there.

Ritter's eyes widened.

“Go.”

Cal accelerated.

First down.

He kept going.

The crowd rose.

Thirty-five.

Thirty.

A defender finally reached him.

Cal broke the tackle.

Twenty-five.

Christ finally dragged him down.

The Crestview Nest erupted.

Cal jumped to his feet.

Tommy ran towards him and smacked him on the helmet.

Ritter grinned.

Cal Norstrom had just turned third and long into a massive gain.

Crestview had the ball at the Christ twenty-five.

Calder looked at Ritter.

Ritter looked back.

“Not the Broncos.”

Calder nodded.

“Not the Broncos.”

Tommy brought the offence to the line.

Twenty-five yards away.

Crestview was rolling again.

First down.

Tommy looked over the defence.

Cody Dampier was leaning towards one side.

Tommy noticed.

For once, Cody was giving something away.

Tommy looked towards the other side.

One of his receivers had single coverage.

Tommy smiled.

Got you.

Snap.

Tommy dropped back.

The receiver broke towards the end zone.

Open.

Tommy threw.

Perfect.

Right in the numbers.

The receiver caught it.

Or almost caught it.

The ball somehow bounced out of his hands, popped upwards, nearly hit him in the helmet and fell harmlessly to the ground.

Incomplete.

Tommy stared.

The receiver stared.

The entire Crestview Nest groaned.

Again.

Ritter put his hands on his hips.

“You have to catch those.”

---

Second down.

Ritter didn't need anything spectacular.

Neither did Tommy.

Get five.

Get six.

Make third down manageable.

Tommy took the snap.

A receiver opened in the slot.

Tommy fired.

Perfect again.

The ball hit the receiver's hands.

…and fell to the ground.

Tommy stared at him.

The receiver stared back.

Incomplete.

Third and ten.

Tommy walked towards the sideline.

Ritter met him.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Keep throwing.”

“To who?”

Ritter paused.

That was becoming a legitimate question.

Eric had dropped a touchdown.

Terry had just dropped one.

Now two other receivers had dropped perfectly thrown passes on consecutive plays.

“Someone will catch it.”

“Cody's watching.”

“Let him watch.”

“He's figuring this out.”

Ritter looked across the field.

Cody was talking to one of his teammates.

“He's smart.”

“Exactly.”

“He's also a high schooler.”

Tommy looked at Ritter.

“So am I.”

Ritter paused.

“That's not helping my argument.”

Tommy returned to the huddle.

---

Third down.

Ritter looked at the defence.

Passing situation again.

They'd fooled Christ with the draw once.

Why not twice?

Calder looked at him.

“You're doing it again?”

“They won't expect it again.”

Calder considered that.

“Because we already did it?”

“Exactly.”

The ball was snapped.

Tommy dropped back.

Christ rushed.

Cal Norstrom took the handoff.

For a moment, the middle opened.

Then Cody moved.

Immediately.

He'd seen it.

Cal barely got going before Cody crashed into the play.

Other Saints arrived.

Cal went down.

Small gain.

Fourth down.

Ritter stared across the field.

Cody got up.

Ritter shook his head.

He knew the kid was good.

He'd told Tommy he was good.

He'd spent all week telling everyone how good he was.

…but this?

“He's seventeen,” Ritter muttered.

Calder looked at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Ritter had another problem.

Fourth down.

Normally this was easy.

Send out the field-goal unit.

Except Ritter's kicker had already demonstrated an unusual ability to send footballs everywhere except where they were supposed to go.

The punter had rescued the kickoffs.

He wasn't a field-goal kicker.

Ritter looked at the uprights.

Then at his offence.

“Stay out there.”

---

Four wide receivers.

Terry Rasmussen.

Empty backfield.

Christ spread out to account for everybody.

Ritter watched Cody.

This had to work.

Four receivers were going deep.

Terry would drag underneath.

Let Christ worry about Tommy throwing another bomb.

Let Cody worry about everything happening behind him.

Then Tommy dumps it to Terry.

Terry gets the yards.

First down.

Simple.

Cody couldn't cover everything.

Snap.

The four receivers went.

Cody reacted.

Deep.

Ritter smiled.

Terry crossed underneath.

Cody stopped.

Ritter's smile disappeared.

“Oh, come on.”

Tommy saw Terry.

So did Cody.

Tommy threw.

Perfect.

Terry caught it.

He turned upfield.

Five yards.

Six.

Seven.

Cody came flying towards him.

Terry lowered his shoulder.

Cody hit him.

Terry kept fighting.

They went down.

Right at the sticks.

The stadium erupted.

Half the Crestview sideline pointed downfield.

“FIRST DOWN!”

The Christ sideline pointed the other way.

“SHORT!”

Ritter walked towards the official.

The ball was spotted.

He stared at it.

“No.”

The chains came out.

The crowd quieted.

Ritter leaned forward.

The measurement was close.

Very close.

The official looked.

Then stood.

He signalled Christ ball.

Short.

The Christ sideline erupted.

Ritter stared at the spot.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

The official ignored him.

“That isn't where he went down.”

Still nothing.

Ritter reached towards his waist.

Then stopped.

“I need a challenge flag.”

Calder looked at him.

“A what?”

“A challenge flag.”

“What the hell is a challenge flag?”

Ritter stared at the field.

“A flag I throw when they're wrong.”

Calder waited.

Ritter said nothing else.

There was no flag.

There was no challenge.

There wasn't even replay.

Christ the Savior had the football.

Ritter muttered something to himself and headed back towards the sideline.

Calder followed him.

“I still don't understand the flag.”

“You don't need to.”

Ritter looked back at Cody Dampier.

The kid had just diagnosed the draw and then recovered from biting on four vertical routes quickly enough to stop Terry at the sticks.

Ritter had gone into this game worried about Christ's one genuinely exceptional player.

Now he was beginning to wonder just how exceptional Cody Dampier actually was.

Christ the Savior got the football back.

Ritter watched them line up in the wishbone.

He waited for whatever insanity was coming next.

The quarterback took the snap.

Handed it to the fullback.

That was it.

The fullback gained six yards.

Ritter blinked.

Second down.

The quarterback took the snap.

This time he pitched outside.

Five yards.

First down.

Ritter stared across the field.

Christ lined up again.

Outside handoff.

Seven yards.

No double handoff.

No reverse.

No player running in one direction before giving the football to somebody going in another direction.

No attempt to make the football disappear.

They were just playing football.

…and it was working.

Calder stepped beside Ritter.

“They stopped being clever.”

“I noticed.”

Another snap.

Simple inside handoff.

Four yards.

First down.

Ritter frowned.

“That might be a problem.”

---

It was.

Christ had apparently spent halftime discovering that their biggest weakness was Christ the Savior.

They stopped trying to outsmart Crestview.

They stopped trying to outsmart themselves.

The quarterback made simple reads.

The backs hit their assigned holes.

They pitched when they were supposed to pitch.

They blocked.

They even ran a simple screen.

It gained nine yards.

Crestview wasn't being destroyed.

That almost made it worse.

Christ simply kept moving.

Three yards.

Five yards.

First down.

Four yards.

Penalty.

Back them up.

Seven yards.

Third down.

Conversion.

First down.

Again.

Again.

Again.

The clock kept moving.

Ritter looked towards it.

He'd wanted Christ to make mistakes.

Instead, they'd stopped giving themselves opportunities to make them.

The third quarter disappeared.

By the time the clock reached zero, Christ was still on the field.

Still driving.

Still leading.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 34
CRESTVIEW 22

The teams changed ends.

Fourth quarter.

Christ was already in field-goal range.

Ritter gathered his defence.

“They're not doing anything complicated anymore!”

His players listened.

“So stop waiting for complicated!”

They returned to the field.

Christ lined up.

Third and short.

Then a flag flew.

Holding.

Christ backed up.

Third and long.

The Crestview crowd came alive.

So did the defence.

Ritter saw it immediately.

They smelled blood.

Christ's quarterback saw it too.

Crestview came.

The quarterback dropped back.

Pressure arrived almost immediately.

He didn't panic.

He dumped the football underneath to the slot receiver.

Then got drilled.

The receiver caught it.

Turned.

Ran.

One defender missed.

Another grabbed him.

The receiver fought.

He dragged the defender another yard.

Then another Crow arrived.

Down.

Short.

The crowd erupted.

Fourth down.

The Christ quarterback slowly got back to his feet.

Ritter watched him.

“That was good.”

Calder looked at him.

“Whose side are you on?”

“Ours. That was still good.”

Christ sent out the field-goal unit.

Ritter folded his arms.

The kicker lined up.

Snap.

Hold.

Kick.

The football went up.

Then started moving sideways.

Ritter watched.

The officials watched.

The crowd watched.

Wide.

No good.

The Crestview Nest exploded.

Ritter punched the air.

Then he stopped.

Calder smiled.

“What?”

Ritter looked at him.

“Apparently nobody in Utah can kick.”

Crestview's offence started onto the field.

Tommy put on his helmet.

Twelve minutes remained.

Christ had just consumed almost an entire quarter and gotten nothing for it.

Crestview was still down twelve.

…but they were still alive.

Ritter watched Tommy put his helmet on.

Twelve minutes.

Down twelve.

Christ had just demonstrated that they could hold the football for an entire quarter if Crestview let them.

Ritter considered his options.

Then he made a decision that seemed completely wrong.

“Run it.”

Calder looked at him.

“We're down twelve.”

“I know.”

“Fourth quarter.”

“I know.”

“…and you want to run.”

“I don't want to give them the football back in thirty seconds.”

Christ had spent the third quarter doing something Crestview hadn't done enough of all night.

Playing ordinary football.

Maybe Crestview should try it.

Tommy took the snap.

He handed it to Cal Norstrom.

Cal dropped it.

Ritter stared.

Cal reached down.

His foot hit the football.

It shot backwards.

“No!”

Players scrambled.

A Crestview player finally fell on it.

Huge loss.

Ritter slowly looked around.

“Am I coaching Christ now?”

Calder looked at him.

“What?”

“Did somebody switch teams without telling me?”

Calder didn't answer.

Ritter sighed.

So much for running.

---

Tommy dropped back.

Terry Rasmussen went underneath.

Christ immediately reacted.

Several defenders shifted towards him.

Even Cody.

Tommy saw Danny Petersen farther downfield.

He threw.

Danny caught it.

Big gain.

Ritter pointed.

“There!”

Christ had finally become so concerned about Terry that they'd created something somewhere else.

Crestview hurried to the line.

Tommy took the next snap.

Danny went deep again.

Cody saw him.

He started moving.

Tommy planted.

And threw.

Hard.

Very hard.

Cody reacted.

Not quickly enough.

The football got there considerably faster than he'd expected.

Danny caught it.

The crowd erupted.

Cody turned towards Tommy.

Tommy smiled.

That was something Cody hadn't figured out yet.

Crestview was knocking on the door.

---

First down.

Tommy took the snap.

He looked left.

Nothing.

Right.

Nothing.

Terry covered.

Danny covered.

Everybody covered.

The pocket started closing.

Tommy ran.

A defender came towards him.

Tommy cut around him.

Another reached.

Tommy slipped away.

The goal line was ahead.

Tommy accelerated.

One more defender.

Tommy got past him.

Touchdown.

The Crestview Nest exploded.

Tommy kept running through the end zone.

His arms went into the air.

His first high-school touchdown.

Not one he'd thrown.

His.

He'd crossed the goal line himself.

Tommy screamed.

His teammates surrounded him.

He jumped into them.

Then Tommy looked towards the stands.

Chloe was losing her mind.

Tommy ran towards her.

Ritter saw him.

“Oh, don't-”

Tommy reached the railing.

Chloe leaned down.

Tommy kissed her.

The crowd reacted.

Then Tommy handed Chloe the football.

She hugged it against herself.

A flag flew.

Tommy stopped.

Chloe stopped.

Ritter stared.

“What?”

The referee signalled the penalty.

Tommy pointed towards Chloe.

“I kissed my girlfriend!”

The referee didn't seem interested.

Tommy looked towards Ritter.

Ritter looked towards the referee.

“You're kidding.”

The referee was not kidding.

The penalty would back Crestview up on the conversion.

Tommy slowly returned towards the field.

He looked back at Chloe.

She was still holding the football.

At least she got something out of it.

---

The two-point attempt came from farther back than Ritter wanted.

Christ knew Crestview had to throw.

Tommy took the snap.

Pressure came.

Nobody opened.

Tommy tried to keep the play alive.

He couldn't.

No conversion.

CHRIST THE SAVIOR 34
CRESTVIEW 28

Six-point game.

Again.

Tommy returned to the sideline.

He found the bench.

Sat down.

Then very deliberately did not look at Ritter.

Ritter noticed.

He walked over.

Tommy stared at the field.

“Coach-”

“I don't care.”

Tommy looked at him.

“What?”

“I don't care that you kissed Chloe.”

Tommy blinked.

Ritter pointed towards the scoreboard.

“I care that it cost us yards.”

“Oh.”

Ritter looked towards the officials.

“…and I'm not particularly convinced it should have.”

Tommy finally looked at him.

“You're not mad?”

“About kissing your girlfriend?”

Tommy nodded.

“No.”

Ritter walked away.

Tommy sat there.

He thought about the lake.

He thought about what their parents had told them afterward.

Some people weren't going to like seeing them being affectionate.

That was society.

They couldn't control everybody else's reaction to it.

Tommy had accepted that.

Mostly.

He looked towards Chloe.

She was holding his football.

She smiled.

Tommy smiled back.

He could live with people not liking it.

He just wished they'd chosen a time when he wasn't trying to win a football game.

Christ the Savior got the ball back.

…and they did exactly what Ritter didn't want them to do.

They ran the football.

Then they ran it again.

Then they ran it again.

The Saints weren't doing anything particularly impressive. The elaborate tricks from the first half were mostly gone. They handed the ball to the fullback. They pitched it outside. They threw the occasional short pass.

And they kept getting just enough.

Ritter stared at the clock.

It was moving much faster than he wanted it to.

"Come on," Ritter muttered. "Give me the football."

The Saints didn't.

They picked up another first down.

Ritter looked at the clock again.

"Wayne."

"Yeah?"

"We might not get another drive."

Calder looked at the clock.

"Then I guess we should stop them."

Ritter looked at him.

"Thank you, Wayne."

"You're welcome."

The Saints quarterback dropped back.

Pressure came from his right. He stepped away from it and threw across the middle.

A Crestview defender jumped in front.

The ball landed in his hands.

The stadium exploded.

Ritter threw both arms into the air.

"YES!"

A flag landed on the field.

Ritter slowly lowered his arms.

"No."

Pass interference.

Crestview.

First down, Christ the Savior.

Ritter stared at the official.

"Of course."

The Saints continued their drive.

It wasn't pretty.

They nearly took a delay of game and burned a timeout.

A few plays later, they nearly did it again.

Another timeout.

…but they kept moving.

Eventually, they reached field goal range.

Ritter looked at the clock.

A field goal would make it a two-score game.

He looked toward the sky.

"Just one mistake."

A flag flew.

Holding.

Christ the Savior.

Ritter smiled.

"Thank you."

On the next play, another flag flew.

Tripping.

Ritter smiled wider.

"Thank you very much."

Christ suddenly faced third and very long.

The Saints quarterback dropped back and looked downfield.

Nobody was open.

He threw anyway.

The ball sailed toward the end zone.

It sailed over one receiver.

Then another.

Then everybody.

Incomplete.

Christ punted.

Crestview finally had the football.

Ritter immediately looked at the clock.

There wasn't much of it.

…but Crestview still had all three timeouts.

Tommy ran onto the field.

"Chunks!" Ritter shouted. "We need chunks!"

Tommy nodded.

He knew.

Danny Petersen lined up outside.

Terry Rasmussen lined up closer to the formation.

Across from them, Cody Dampier watched.

Tommy took the snap.

Danny went deep.

Tommy fired.

Complete.

Timeout Crestview.

Next play.

Terry.

Complete.

Another first down.

The clock stopped long enough for the chains to reset.

Tommy hurried everyone back to the line.

Danny went deep again.

Cody went with him.

Tommy smiled.

He liked this.

Ritter did not.

"Don't challenge him just because he's there!"

Tommy took the snap.

Danny beat his defender.

Cody was behind him.

Tommy stepped into the throw.

The football flew almost fifty yards through the air.

Danny had nothing in front of him.

Nothing except the end zone.

Cody knew it too.

He grabbed Danny and dragged him down.

The flag came immediately.

The Crestview crowd erupted.

Tommy pointed at Cody.

"You had to!"

Cody got up.

He didn't answer.

He didn't have to.

Ritter knew exactly what Cody had done.

So did Tommy.

If Cody hadn't tackled Danny, Danny was gone.

The penalty was better than the touchdown.

Crestview kept moving.

Danny.

Terry.

Danny again.

Tommy used the sideline whenever he could.

When he couldn't, Ritter used his timeouts.

One disappeared.

Then another.

Then the last one.

Finally, Crestview reached the Saints' two-yard line.

First down.

The officials stopped the clock while the chains were reset.

Ritter already had the play.

Tommy got everyone lined up.

The clock restarted.

Snap.

Tommy looked into the end zone.

A receiver broke free.

Tommy threw.

Cody appeared at the last possible second.

He swatted the ball away.

Incomplete.

Tommy stared at him.

Cody stared back.

No time.

Second down.

Tommy turned and handed the ball to Cal Norstrom.

Cal lowered his head.

One yard.

Then another.

He crashed through the goal line.

Touchdown.

The stadium exploded.

Tommy jumped into the air.

Cal threw both arms up.

Terry grabbed him.

The offense started running toward the sideline.

34-34.

Even if the extra point went wrong, they had tied it.

Then Tommy saw Ritter.

Ritter wasn't celebrating anymore.

There was a flag on the field.

Holding.

Crestview.

"No!"

The touchdown disappeared.

The ball moved backward.

Second down again.

Tommy hurried everyone to the line.

He took the snap.

Terry slipped underneath.

Tommy hit him.

Terry turned upfield.

Five yards.

Six.

Seven.

He lowered his shoulder and dragged a defender another yard before going down.

"GO! GO! GO!"

Tommy waved everybody forward.

Terry scrambled back to his feet.

The clock continued to run.

Crestview rushed to the line.

Someone moved early.

Whistle.

Tommy froze.

False start.

Crestview.

Five yards.

Still third down.

Ritter stared at the clock.

Most of what Terry had just gained was gone.

"Get lined up!"

Tommy got them lined up.

The ball was ready.

Third down.

Tommy took the snap.

He looked left.

Nothing.

Right.

Nothing.

Back across the middle.

Nothing he trusted.

The clock was disappearing.

Tommy couldn't take a sack.

He fired the ball out of the end zone.

A man in the first few rows caught it.

"YEAH!"

He threw both arms into the air.

Everyone around him stared at him.

The man looked around.

"What?"

Fourth down.

Terry came back toward Tommy.

"I was open."

Tommy looked at him.

"What?"

"I think I could've got in."

Tommy glanced toward the end zone.

Terry had been open.

He'd missed him.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

They had no time to talk about it.

Fourth down.

Ritter didn't need to say anything.

Everybody knew.

Touchdown or lose.

Christ the Savior didn't send pressure.

They didn't need a sack.

They needed to stop one pass.

Tommy took the snap.

He dropped back.

…and waited.

Nobody came for him.

The Saints flooded the end zone.

Tommy looked left.

Then right.

Receivers crossed.

Defenders followed.

Someone switched.

Someone else didn't.

The longer the play went, the messier everything became.

One Saint followed the wrong receiver.

Another hesitated between two.

Eric Vincent slipped toward the back corner.

Tommy saw him.

Cody wasn't watching Eric.

Cody wasn't really watching anybody.

He was watching Tommy.

Tommy looked toward Danny.

Cody moved.

Tommy kept looking at Danny.

Cody moved farther.

Tommy smiled.

Got you.

He turned.

Eric was open.

Tommy fired.

The pass was perfect.

It floated toward the corner.

Eric turned underneath it.

All he had to do was catch it.

Cody turned.

He sprinted across the end zone.

Tommy's smile disappeared.

Cody dove.

He stretched both hands out.

…and intercepted the football.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Then every Christ the Savior player on the field ran toward Cody.

They buried him.

The Saints sideline emptied.

Players jumped on top of one another.

Someone threw his helmet into the air.

Christ the Savior had won.

Tommy stood where he'd thrown the pass.

He didn't understand.

He'd looked Cody off.

He knew he'd looked Cody off.

Cody had moved.

Cody had fallen for it.

Except he hadn't.

Cody had spent the game watching Tommy.

His eyes.

His shoulders.

His feet.

The little changes in his throwing motion.

Tommy had a tell.

Cody had found it.

…and Cody knew Tommy liked looking him off.

So Cody had let Tommy think it worked.

Tommy walked toward the sideline.

Eric joined him.

Terry followed.

Nobody said anything.

Across the field, Christ the Savior was still celebrating.

The worst football team in Utah had just beaten Crestview.

The Crestview players slowly walked toward the locker room.

Then they heard something.

Applause.

Tommy looked up.

The Crestview fans were standing.

Clapping.

Not all of them at first.

Then more.

Then almost everybody.

Tommy stopped.

So did Terry.

Jensen stood on the sideline and looked into the crowd.

Ritter looked up too.

They'd lost.

They'd lost to Christ the Savior.

Christ the Savior.

The team that hadn't won a non-forfeit game in more than fifteen years.

The team Crestview was supposed to beat without thinking about it.

…but Crestview had been down 28-0.

They'd fought back.

They'd gotten within two yards of tying the game.

Then they'd gotten within one pass.

…and they were kids.

The crowd knew that too.

Tommy found Chloe near the railing.

She was clapping harder than anybody.

Keisha was beside her.

Jason and Kathy were standing.

Scott and Lily were standing.

Joey was standing with the cheerleaders.

Tommy raised his hand.

The applause got louder.

The other Crestview players did the same.

For a few seconds, losing didn't feel quite as bad.

Then Tommy looked across the field.

Cody Dampier was surrounded by teammates.

Tommy looked at him.

Cody looked back.

Tommy nodded.

Cody nodded.

Then Tommy turned and followed his teammates into the locker room.

Christ the Savior 34.

Crestview 28.

The Crestview players didn't get very far.

Students and parents were already spilling onto the field.

Up in the stands, John Davis was still sitting beside Cali Newsome.

He'd behaved himself at first.

Mostly.

He knew what people thought of him. He knew what some people would think if they saw him spending the entire football game touching a woman from the Provo Caller.

So he'd kept his hands to himself.

For a while.

Then Christ the Savior returned the opening kickoff for a touchdown.

Then Crestview gave them another one.

Then it became 21-0.

Then 28-0.

By that point, Davis' restraint was gone.

"Oh, by Jove."

Cali felt his hand close around hers.

She looked down at it.

Then at him.

Davis didn't even seem to realize what he'd done.

She squeezed his hand.

Davis looked at her.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

It was more than okay.

Her husband barely touched her anymore.

John Davis apparently had enough physical affection for the entire city of Provo.

As Crestview came back, Davis moved closer.

So did Cali.

Eventually, they found a position that worked surprisingly well. Davis could hold her against him while Cali could still keep her notebook balanced against her leg.

"Touchdown!" Davis shouted.

Cali nearly lost her pencil.

"John!"

"Sorry!"

She laughed and kept writing.

By the fourth quarter, she was holding his hand whenever she didn't need hers.

By Crestview's final drive, Davis was barely watching from his seat.

He stood.

Sat down.

Stood again.

"Sit down."

"I can't."

"I need to see."

"Sorry."

He sat down.

Danny caught another pass.

Davis grabbed her.

Cali kept writing.

The Crows reached the two.

"Oh, by Jove."

"John."

"They're going to do it."

"John."

"They're going to do it!"

Cal crossed the goal line.

Davis screamed.

Cali screamed too.

Then she saw the flag.

"Oh."

Davis saw it.

"No."

Holding.

The touchdown disappeared.

Davis sank back into his seat.

Cali put an arm around him while continuing to write with the other.

"Come on," Davis whispered.

Third down.

Incomplete.

Fourth down.

Davis grabbed Cali's hand with both of his.

She let him.

Tommy threw.

Eric was open.

Cody Dampier came across the end zone.

Interception.

Davis didn't move.

Around them, the Crestview crowd began applauding.

Cali looked at him.

There were tears running down his face.

"Oh, John."

Davis looked toward her.

Cali looked at her notebook.

"Give me a minute."

He nodded.

She finished writing.

Final score.

A few notes about the final drive.

Cody Dampier.

Thomas Rydell.

The crowd's reaction.

Then she closed the notebook.

"Okay."

She put it aside.

Davis barely had time to look at her before Cali wrapped both arms around him.

It wasn't a polite hug.

It wasn't a professional hug either.

Cali held him tightly against her and rested her head against him.

Davis hugged her back.

For a while, neither said anything.

Cali kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm sorry."

"They played so hard."

"I know."

"They almost had it."

"I know."

Davis took a breath.

Then another.

Eventually, they separated.

Mostly.

Cali still held his hand.

Davis looked down at it.

Then at her.

"Cali?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Cali sighed.

She usually had an easy answer for that question.

I have a husband.

She didn't say it.

Instead, she squeezed Davis' hand one last time.

"Call me."

Davis blinked.

"You know where to find me."

She picked up her notebook.

They finally let go of each other.

On the field, Chloe Summers had only one person in mind.

She found Tommy surrounded by teammates and ran toward him.

Tommy barely had time to turn.

Chloe threw both arms around him.

"Whoa!"

She kissed him.

Tommy was sweaty.

Very sweaty.

His hair was soaked. His uniform was dirty. His face was wet and his lips tasted salty.

Chloe didn't care.

She kissed him again.

Tommy laughed.

"I'm disgusting."

"Yes."

"Thanks."

Chloe wrapped herself around him again.

"I don't care."

Tommy held her.

Around them, other students and families were finding players. Some hugged. Some talked. Some just stood together.

"I wish you won," Chloe said.

"Me too."

"…but I'm proud of you."

Tommy smiled.

"You were amazing."

"Coach Ritter might have a different opinion."

"I don't care what Coach Ritter thinks."

Tommy looked over toward the sideline.

"I wouldn't tell him that."

"You're still my All-Star."

Tommy smiled and squeezed her.

"Hey, Rydell."

Tommy looked over Chloe's shoulder.

"Can I get a kiss too?"

Tommy turned.

Cody Dampier stood there.

Tommy laughed.

"No."

"Can't blame me for asking."

Cody held out his hand.

Tommy took it.

They pulled each other in and slapped each other on the back.

When they separated, Tommy shook his head.

"I thought I had you."

"You did."

"No, I didn't."

"You did a couple times."

"Not when it mattered."

Cody smiled.

"You could really be something."

Tommy looked at him.

"If you work at it," Cody continued. "You've got an arm."

Tommy glanced toward the end zone.

"You're already something else."

Cody shook his head.

"I still have a lot of work left to do."

Tommy stared at him.

"You just won the game."

"So?"

"You intercepted me."

"Yeah."

"You stopped Terry."

"Yeah."

"You stopped Danny."

"Had to tackle him."

"Still counts."

Cody laughed.

"I won't make the Broncos if I coast."

Tommy's expression changed.

He hadn't expected that.

Cody Dampier had just single-handedly ruined several of Crestview's best plays, ended the comeback and given Christ the Savior its first real victory in more than fifteen years.

…and he thought he wasn't good enough yet.

Tommy nodded slowly.

"The Broncos?"

"The Broncos."

"Maybe I'll see you there."

Cody smiled.

"Then you'd better work too."

Tommy held out his hand again.

Cody took it.

Chloe stood beside Tommy, still holding onto his arm.

Around them, the field remained crowded.

Nobody seemed ready to leave yet.

Tommy didn't get much time alone after Cody left.

Jason reached him first.

He hugged Tommy hard enough that Tommy grunted.

"Dad."

"Sorry."

Kathy hugged him next.

"You were wonderful."

"We lost."

"You were still wonderful."

Bowie tried to get in too.

Tommy bent down as much as his pads allowed and hugged his little brother.

Scott and Lily came over next.

Then Keisha.

Then Jensen.

Then Joey.

Tommy was beginning to think he'd been hugged by half of Provo.

Joey pulled away.

Tommy looked at her.

"You were really good."

Joey blinked.

"What?"

"The song."

"Oh."

"…and the cheering."

"Oh."

"…and the Impossible Question thing."

"Oh."

"You were a good...whatever you call that."

"Emcee?"

"Yeah. That."

Joey stared at him.

"Thanks."

"You looked like you were having fun."

"I was."

"Good."

Joey didn't seem to know what else to do with the compliment.

So she hugged him again.

Tommy laughed.

"Everybody keeps hugging me."

"Maybe you're huggable."

"I'm all sweaty."

Joey shrugged.

She let him go.

Tommy looked at Chloe.

"Maybe I'm more attractive sweaty."

"No."

Tommy frowned.

Chloe smiled.

"You're attractive because you played with courage and passion and the heart of a warrior."

Tommy grinned.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I like that."

"You still need a shower."

Tommy's grin disappeared.

Joey laughed.

"Thomas Rydell."

Chloe's smile disappeared too.

Xavier Dickinson approached them.

He still looked pleased with himself.

Tommy remembered him.

So did Chloe.

Xavier stopped in front of her.

"You remember what you said?"

Chloe stared at him.

Tommy looked at Chloe.

Then Xavier.

Then Chloe again.

There were a lot of thoughts going through his head.

Chloe didn't look embarrassed.

She didn't look amused either.

She looked annoyed.

Tommy stepped between them.

"Leave her alone."

Xavier looked at him.

"I'm talking to her."

"She doesn't want to talk to you."

"I didn't ask you."

Tommy tried to keep his voice calm.

"Just leave."

Xavier looked around Tommy.

"You said if we won, you'd go out with someone on our team."

"It was a joke," Chloe said.

"You said it."

"Before the game."

"We won."

"Congratulations."

"So?"

"So nothing."

Xavier smiled.

"You made a promise."

Tommy pointed toward a bench beside the field.

"Fine."

Everyone looked at him.

Tommy pointed again.

"You and Chloe can sit on that bench for five minutes. You can talk. That's your date."

Xavier laughed.

"That's not a date."

"Then you can leave."

"I'm not sitting on a bench for five minutes."

"Then leave."

"Those aren't my only options."

"Yeah. They are."

A hand landed on Xavier's shoulder.

Cody.

"Whatever you're thinking about doing," Cody said, "knock it off."

Xavier looked over his shoulder.

"I'm not doing anything."

"Good. Keep doing that."

Chloe took Tommy's hand.

"Come on."

Tommy looked at her.

"Let's go."

Tommy nodded.

That was probably the smartest idea anybody had offered.

More Christ players were starting to look over.

So were Crestview players.

People could tell something was happening.

Tommy turned away with Chloe.

Xavier reached for him.

Cody caught Xavier's arm.

"Don't."

Xavier swung his elbow.

It caught Cody and knocked him backward.

"Cody!"

Xavier charged.

Tommy barely had time to turn.

Xavier hit him from behind.

Tommy went down.

His foot stayed planted for just a little too long.

His ankle twisted underneath him.

Pain shot through his leg.

"AH!"

Then everything exploded.

Players rushed in.

Someone shoved Xavier.

Someone shoved him back.

Christ jerseys disappeared into Crestview jerseys.

Coaches started yelling.

Parents screamed.

Tommy didn't see most of it.

He was holding his ankle.

Xavier was still partly on top of him.

Then suddenly he wasn't.

Joey grabbed him from one side.

Chloe grabbed him from the other.

Together they forcefully peeled Xavier away.

"GET OFF HIM!"

Cody recovered and shoved Xavier farther back.

"ENOUGH!"

Another player shoved Cody.

Then another Crestview player arrived.

Then three more.

The fight spread.

Cody looked down at Tommy.

"We've got to get him out of here."

"My ankle!"

Chloe crouched beside him.

"Tommy?"

"My ankle!"

"Can you stand?"

"No!"

Joey bent down.

"I'll carry him."

Cody stared at her.

"You'll what?"

"I can carry him."

"Joey-"

"I can!"

Chloe shook her head.

"We're not testing that right now."

"I can carry him!"

Cody got on one side.

Chloe took the other.

"Help us."

Joey frowned.

Then helped anyway.

They got Tommy up.

The moment his foot touched the ground, he cried out.

"Don't put weight on it," Cody said.

"I figured that out!"

They moved him away from the fight.

Jason and Kathy were already trying to reach him.

"What happened?" Kathy asked.

"Xavier tackled him," Chloe said.

"Who?"

"The guy from Christ."

Jason looked back toward the brawl.

Kathy grabbed his arm.

"Jason."

Jason stopped.

Cody spotted someone near the Crestview sideline.

"Mrs. Lopez!"

Cindy Lopez turned.

She was part of Crestview's medical staff and a registered nurse.

She hurried over.

"What happened?"

"He got tackled from behind," Cody said.

"My ankle's broken," Tommy said.

Cindy crouched.

"Let me look."

"It's broken."

"Let me look first."

She carefully examined his ankle.

Tommy winced.

"Ow."

"Where?"

"There."

She touched another spot.

"Ow!"

"Here?"

"Yes!"

She checked the ankle for swelling and deformity, then looked at Tommy.

"I don't see anything obviously broken."

"It feels broken."

"I know it hurts."

"It hurts a lot."

"I believe you."

"So it's broken."

"I didn't say that."

Tommy frowned at her.

Cindy stood.

"We can't tell that here. You're going to need to get it checked."

"At the hospital?" Kathy asked.

Cindy nodded.

Tommy's eyes widened.

"The hospital?"

"We need to make sure you didn't fracture anything."

"…but you said it wasn't broken."

"I said I don't see anything obviously broken."

"That's different."

"Very."

The noise from the fight continued across the field.

A whistle shrieked repeatedly.

Someone was yelling for everyone to get back.

Cindy looked toward it.

"We're getting you away from this."

A wheelchair was brought over.

Tommy stared at it.

"I don't need that."

"Can you walk?"

Tommy looked at his ankle.

"No."

"Then you need that."

Tommy reluctantly let them help him into the chair.

Chloe immediately took his hand.

Joey stood beside her.

Cody hovered nearby.

Jason and Kathy came up behind him.

Tommy looked at all of them.

They were trying very hard not to look worried.

They were doing a terrible job.

"I'm fine."

Nobody answered.

Tommy looked at Chloe.

"I'm fine."

"I know."

"You don't look like you know."

Chloe squeezed his hand.

"You're going to be fine."

That wasn't the same thing.

Cindy started wheeling him away.

Tommy looked back.

His parents followed.

Chloe followed.

Joey followed.

Even Cody came a few steps before stopping and looking back toward his own team.

Tommy raised his hand.

Cody raised his.

Chloe squeezed Tommy's hand again.

The field behind them was still chaos.

The game was over.

The fighting wasn't.

…and Tommy's first varsity football game had somehow managed to get worse.