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It didn’t help that Felicity was spending more and more time with tutor boy. She was finding one of her classes, parasitology or something, particularly difficult. But it wasn’t like I was around much to help, or even could if I was.
The team had become my life the last couple of weeks. Everything building to this moment.
“Okay, ladies, look alive.” Coach Faulkner moved through the locker room, fierce determination etched in the lines of his face. “Tonight, we’re going to go out there and show everyone why it should have been us bringing that trophy home last season, you hear me?”
“Yes, Coach.” Our battle cry echoed off the walls, reverberating all the way down to my soul. Hunger pulsed inside me as adrenaline trickled through my veins. No synthetic high could ever replicate this; the moment you stepped out on that field. The second we became gods among men: worshipped and adored, immortalized in the chants of the crowd, every sigh and gasp and cheer. It was our oxygen, our life-force. And I would let it fuel me, push me harder and faster until we won.
“Number one,” Coach fixed his eyes on me, “you ready?”
It was the million-dollar question.
I felt strong.
One hundred percent on form.
But I also felt humbled; honored to captain my team, to walk them into battle and lead them to victory.
Because losing was not an option.
“I feel ready, Coach.”
“Glad to hear it, son. Dartmouth are looking strong, but they don’t have our heart. They don’t have our drive or our thirst.” He jabbed his finger into the air. “They don’t have what it takes to go all the way. Bring it in.”
The sound of our cleats against the locker room floor was like the beat of a drum.
“Quakers on three. Jason, do the honors.”
I punched my hand into the middle of the tightly knit circle as fifty other hands followed suit.
“One... two... three... Quakers.”
We broke formation to file out on the field. I grabbed my helmet and jogged ahead, my heart racing, blood pounding between my ears. But it was nothing compared to the roar of the crowd as we jogged out onto Franklin Field.
“Soak it up, man,” Griffin yelled around a shit-eating smirk.
And I did. I slowed to a walk, soaking it up. There had been something special about playing in my freshman year. But this, being here as captain, was the pinnacle of my football career to date. I needed to take a minute, to allow myself a second to process everything. My eyes scanned the VIP section and found Felicity. She was grinning from ear to ear, sitting beside Jordan who was here to support Gio on a 'purely platonic' basis. I called bullshit, but whatever. I could just make out Felicity mouthing the words, “I love you.”
In that moment, with my girl in the bleachers, the thirteen-thousand strong crowd all shouting my name, I felt like a god. Worshipped. Adored. Loved.
I felt unstoppable.
This was my calling, my domain… my kingdom.
And I was born to rule.
Felicity
“Oh my god,” I breathed as I watched Jason fall back, search the field for his wide receiver, and send the ball flying toward him. He caught it, tucking it into his body and sprinting toward the end zone.
“Go, go,” Jordan yelled, and the entire crowd seemed to yell with her.
“Touchdooooown,” the announcer’s voice filled the stadium, and everyone went wild.
“They’ve got this,” Jordan said around a big smile.
“Yeah.” I dropped down in my seat and searched for Jason. He was celebrating with his teammates, high-fiving and fist-bumping. He looked completely at home out there, as if he was born to play.
I didn’t doubt he was. Some people possessed that natural talent, a destiny written in the stars. We were watching football greatness unfold right before our eyes, and I didn’t think there was a person in the crowd who doubted that Jason Ford, a boy from a small town in Pennsylvania, would one day grace the NFL with his talent and charisma.
