Page 206 of Forever Relentless

“That,” he said calmly, “is what happens when your head’s not in the game.”

Nobody spoke.

Sutherland let the silence stretch.

“The outside world?” he continued, almost lazily. “The trends, the noise, the little storms people think matter?” He clicked the remote again. The play rolled forward. “None of it wins football games.”

The room stayed quiet.

“Matthews,” he said suddenly.

“Yes, Coach?”

“You see it?”

I leaned forward slightly. “Yes, Coach.”

“Good. Fix it in training.”

The film session continued just like that.

Practice the next morning was looser than it had been in weeks.

Helmets weren’t needed. Pads were still in the locker room. Everyone was lighter in the warmups.

Sutherland’s little speech the other day had landed exactly the way he wanted it to. Football first. Everything else second.

As the machine turned, so did the end of the semester. Finals overshadowed everything.

The campus felt like it had changed overnight. Playbooks shared space with textbooks. Guys who could read a defense in three seconds suddenly stared blankly at economics notes.

I came back to the dorm late one night, after seeing Briar. I found Dante and Dustin sitting in the living room. Neither of them looked up when I walked in. That alone told me this conversation had been waiting.

I dropped my bag by the door. “What’s up?”

Dustin leaned back on the couch, arms crossed. He glanced at Dante. “You want to start, or should I?”

Dante rubbed a hand down his face before looking at me. “The Devils.”

Here it comes. “Yeah.”

Silence stretched as we stared at each other, neither willing to back down.

“Transfer,” Dustin said.

“I’m still considering it.” I didn’t look away from Dante.

Dante watched me carefully and then pushed himself to his feet. “You’re really just going to leave.”

“Maybe.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s bullshit, Noah.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Is it?”

“Yes,” he said flatly. “You don’t do everything that you did, and then walk away.” He glared at the ground. “You don’t get to leave us and go to the fucking Santos.”

“Leave us.” I considered that for a second. “You stopped talking to me,” I reminded him.