Slow? Nobody has ever called me slow. I can tackle someone and still bring down a QB without him knowing what hit him.
Derek, who’s usually just a spectator when it comes to me and Trey challenging each other, points to us. “As Dieter said, your performance will speak for itself.”
As I walk out of the locker room all dressed and ready for practice, all I can think about is proving to everyone that I’m worth something… on the field, at least. Nobody can outrun or outplay me.
Not even Trey Matthews.
Trey is walking next to me, but then says, “I’ll be right back, man. I forgot something.”
“Where you goin’?” I ask. “Runnin’ away already?”
“You wish,” he calls out over his shoulder. “I just forgot something in my locker.”
If he’s late for practice, Dieter will rip him a new one, then make him run laps and do push-ups just for fun.
By the time Trey rushes back, we’re all in line about to do warm-ups. As our captain, Ashtyn leads us in jumping jacks then stretching. I glance over at the cheerleaders, practicing in front of the bleachers. I should look away, because when Monika turns around and watches us, my adrenaline starts pumping hard through my veins and my groin twitches in response.
She ignites something in me that no girl has ever been able to do. Not even Cassidy. Not by a long shot.
“You checking out my girlfriend?” Trey says in a mocking tone. When I shake my head he laughs. “Dude, I was just jesting. I know you asked Cassidy to homecoming. I knew you still had the hots for her.”
I don’t, but whatever.
Trey and I stand in line for sprints.
When it’s our turn to face off, I look at him, ready to do my best to beat his ass.
He pats me on the back. “See you on the other side, bro.”
This feels like war.
Or at least a growing competition between me and Trey. In medieval times, I’d have wagered for Monika.
But these aren’t the medieval times.
And Monika isn’t a possession to be bartered for.
Once again, I glance over to where she’s standing by the cheerleaders. Her attention is focused our way.
When Dieter blows his whistle, I sprint alongside Trey, wanting to win so fucking bad. My legs pound on the grass and my arms pump fast.
It’s over quick. Too quick. Trey beats me by one tenth of a second.
I put my hands on my knees and bend over, trying to catch my breath. So much for showing off. I should resign myself to the fact that I just got my ass handed to me on a silver platter.
Trey stands beside me, hardly fazed by the sprint.
“You’re a damn machine, Matthews,” I tell him while I continue to pant.
“Face reality, Salazar. I make you a better player,” he says.
“How’s that?”
“Without me, who’d be around to challenge your ass?” He holds his arms out wide. “What are best friends for if not to challenge you to be your best?”
“I’m gonna bring you down if you try to run the ball,” I say with a tired grin.
“That’s the spirit. I dare you.”
It isn’t long before Dieter sets us up for drills and the cheerleaders on the sidelines abandon their practice and start cheering us on. For a split second I pretend that Monika is cheering me on, that she’s my girlfriend.
I’m on the defensive line now, my focus on the offensive lineman David Colton. Out of the corner of my eye I see Trey. It’s not hard to figure out that he’s going to be the ball carrier. He doesn’t have a good poker face, and his hands are twitching.
We line up on the line of scrimmage and Dieter blows his whistle. In a flash, I’ve got Colton on the ground. Derek hands off the ball to Trey. I’m not letting him get past me.
Not this time.
I put everything I have into running after Trey. I’m right on his heels. I’ve got this. With a burst of power, I tackle him, flinging my entire body on top of him as I pull him down.
Yes!
I’m panting like crazy and my legs feel like butter, but I don’t care. I tackled Trey, the fastest high school running back in the state of Illinois. Feels damn good.
“Take that, bro,” I say the second I catch my breath.
I stand up and hold out a hand for Trey, but he doesn’t take it.
“Trey, get up.”
He’s not doing anything.
He’s not moving.
I kneel beside him to check if he’s faking. “Yo, Trey! Come on, get up, man.”
Did he pass out? Why isn’t he moving? I’m confused and start panicking as dark thoughts race through my mind. My hands start to shake.
“Coach!” I yell, waving Dieter over. “There’s somethin’ wrong with Trey! Hurry!”
I don’t want to touch him. I’m scared that I broke his back. I’m responsible for this. His eyes are open, but he’s not conscious. He’s not faking. He’s passed out cold… or… I can’t even think clearly right now.
“Help him!” I yell as loud as I can before my throat closes up and I’m pulled out of the way by the trainers and Dieter. “Trey, wake up,” I say, choking on the words as the world closes in on me.
If I hurt my best friend… he’s all I got.
The trainer kneels beside Trey and puts his head close to his helmet. “Trey, can you hear me?”
Nothing.
I feel my entire body go numb as he quickly feels for Trey’s pulse.