The Endgame Is You (Rixon Raiders 4)
Page 80
“Good. Now get out there and show them why that championship is coming home this season.”
“Dom, take it away, son.”
“Hands in,” he yelled, and we all piled our hands in the center.
It had been a brutal game, our teams matched in speed, strength, and grit. But with Hailee and my family in the audience, I’d found my flow, scoring touchdowns on five out of seven passes. The only problem was Ohio had also scored.
“Wolverines on three.”
“One... two... three... Wolverines.” We broke from the huddle and Dom jogged beside me. “You ready?”
I gave him a stiff nod.
He curled his hand around my neck and pulled me into him, our helmets crashing together. “We’ve earned this, Chase. It’s senior year and that championship is ours, you hear me?”
Adrenaline pulsed through me, the roar of the crowd like liquid ecstasy coursing through my veins.
When I was out here, on the field with my team, playing to the cheers of over one-hundred thousand fans, it was easy to forget about all the other shit. Xander. Hailee. My future. Decisions I wasn’t sure I was ready to make.
Out here, it all went away until there was nothing but me, the ball, and a line of defensive players all looking to stop me from reaching my destination.
I knew it wouldn’t last though. When the final whistle sounded, and the noise stopped, it would all come rushing back.
But for now, I was invincible.
“Let’s give them a show,” I called to Dom and he grinned.
“What are you thinking?”
“Remember when we were goofing around with Dylan the other day?
“Yeah?”
I nodded.
“It’s a big risk.”
“We can pull it off.”
“Let’s do it then.” He jogged off toward Dylan to give him the instructions as the rest of us moved into position.
The crowd quieted as we waited for the clock to resume. If we wanted to score, we needed to move fast and execute the play to the letter.
“Blue twenty-two,” Dom yelled. “Blue twenty-two.” A couple of players dropped back, and the offensive line began shuffling, trying to read the play.
I stayed light on my feet waiting for the snap to Dom. He caught it and hiked the ball to Dylan who began charging for the line of scrimmage, only to slow at the line and pass back to Dominic. The offense scrambled and I flew. Pumping my legs hard, I moved into the open space, extending my hand to give him the signal. The ball cut through the air and I leaped, curling my hand around the leather. The confused Ohio players immediately switched direction to close in around me. But I was too fast, cool air whipping through my helmet as I push harder... faster... nothing but the end zone and victory in sight.
Fingers grazed my shoulder as a defense player reached me, but I shirked him off, dodging right and straight into the end zone.
“Touchdooooown,” the announcer’s voice rang out through the stadium, the collective hoots and hollers of the tens of thousands of fans deafening.
My team jogged over, all wanting to celebrate our first win of the season against one of our biggest rivals.
“That’s how you get shit done,” Dom said, smashing his helmet to mine. “Fuck, I could kiss you.”
“Please don’t,” I chuckled, trying desperately to hold onto the high. But no sooner had it arrived than it started to dissipate.
Xander was out there somewhere with my parents. They would look to me for answers, answers I didn’t have.