Page 23 of Campus Muscle

I moved immediately, and by the time I reached him, my helmet was strapped on tightly. The noise sharpened around me, but this time it felt different.

“Settle it,” Ethan said, and I lined up behind him and nodded once.

The snap came, and the ball landed in my hands. It was solid and familiar, like an old friend. I took two steps forward and kept my eyes up. The line shifted, but not cleanly. The gap wasn’t where it should’ve been so I had to make one.

I planted hard and cut inside. I slipped between two collapsing bodies just before they closed the space. A defender reached and caught fabric, but I twisted through it. My shoulders turned as I drove forward. Another hit came from the side with enough force to knock me off balance, but I lowered into it and my legs churned until the whistle blew. First down.

“Let’s go,” Lucas shouted.

I handed the ball back and reset. During the next play, Ethan faked the handoff and pulled the defense forward before flipping it. I took it wide, sprinting toward the edge, but a cornerback closed too fast. I slowed down just enough to let him commit, then cut inside. The defender stumbled past me, and a space opened.

I pushed forward, picking up yards before getting forced out. The rhythm shifted, but not enough. Ethan’s calls tightened, and the line adjusted. Lucas stretched coverage downfield, pulling the defenders out of position. Connor leaned over the sideline, shouting as if he could force the play forward with sheer volume, but amazingly, I settled into it.

For the next drive, Ethan crouched slightly before the snap. “Watch the linebacker. He has a tendency to jump too early.”

“Got it.”

The ball snapped, and I caught it. I angled left with my eyes glued to my opponent. The linebacker stepped forward too soon. There it was, just as Ethan predicted. I cut behind him and the gap opened cleanly.

I sped up with my legs driving as the field stretched ahead. A safety came in low, but I jumped. I barely cleared the contact and landed hard, but I stayed upright. There were two more strides before a defender dove and caught my ankle.

I stumbled, then drove through it, crossing the line to earn my team a touchdown. The roar instantly hit me, and I pulled off my helmet. My chest was heaving, and Lucas crashed into me. Ethan joined the celebrations as well, but he simply clapped my shoulder and nodded once.

“Stay on it,” he said.

The second half didn’t ease up. Dylan stayed off the field without argument this time, and I carried the load. The Nor’easters adjusted, stacking the box and closing gaps faster, but I didn’t adapt with them. I simply cut earlier and slowed when I needed to. I let them be the ones to over-commit before slipping through.

With that one play, I took the handoff and was hit immediately. Two defenders wrapped around me, and I drove my legs, twisting so I could force an extra yard before going down. On the next play, Ethan faked wide but handed it off late. The defenders hesitated, and that was all I needed. I slipped through the middle and went on untouched for ten yards before they finally caught up.

The same thing happened again and again, and each time it did, we gained ground. By the fourth quarter, the shift was obvious, and the scoreboard made it clear. We had taken the lead, and we weren’t just scraping by. We were actually winning.

When the final whistle blew, I was still moving, and I only slowed down when the sound cut through the field. Lucas whooped, throwing an arm around Connor, who looked like he might explode with excitement. Malik clapped Ethan on the back, and Dylan gave me a stiff nod when I passed him, but there was still something unreadable in his expression.

I pulled off my helmet and tried hard to catch my breath. It felt so real, yet I couldn’t believe it. It was only when we were on the bus ride back that it actually set in. Music blasted through the speakers, and the highlights of the game played on our screens.

Connor talked over everything and pointed at the screen as if he had been a part of every play. “Did you see that hurdle? He cleared him!”

“That’s because you were watching and not playing,” Lucas shot back. “There’s a big difference, Rook.”

“For now,” Connor said with a grin.

Lucas pointed at him. “Relax. Subs make an impact. They don’t take over.”

Ethan leaned back, glancing across the aisle. “Hey! Listen up because the same applies to you.”

I followed his line of sight and saw Owen Harper sitting a few rows down. The backup quarterback had clearly gotten more attention than he was ready for. He was built like he could start anywhere with squared shoulders and a tight posture, but he was a quiet guy.

Quiet, but not passive, though. He was the guy who didn’t like to wait his turn, even if he didn’t have the balls to say it out loud.

Owen smirked faintly. “Wouldn’t dream of it, dude.”

A few of the guys laughed, but I didn’t join in. I leaned back in my seat and my gaze drifted to the front of the bus as the noise blurred at the edges.

Lucas’s words really bothered me. Subs make an impact… I had done a lot more than that tonight, and I knew why. My grip tightened on the armrest as the bus rolled on. The celebration was too loud because everyone else saw a win, but it felt different to me because it wasn’t that simple anymore.

9

Dakota