Page 34 of Campus Muscle

“They’re reading us,” Malik muttered as he came off the field.

I nodded, seeing exactly the same thing. Every adjustment we made came too late, and every gap closed before it could open. But we stayed on the offensive and kept trying. Ethan called quicker plays in an attempt to shift the rhythm. Lucas stretched the field, pulling the defenders wide, and somehow the line managed to hold.

I got the ball and cut right, slipping past the first defender, but then someone slammed into my side with enough force to derail a train. I stumbled but caught myself and kept pushing forward. Then two more defenders closed in, and I went down hard. It was a short gain.

“Come on!” Lucas shouted.

I nodded, but once again my focus slipped, and all I could hear was Dakota’s voice. You better hope you haven’t made a decision you can’t take back… I tightened my grip on the ball as the next play started, but it was already too late.

The handoff wasn’t as good as it should’ve been. My fingers didn’t close properly and the ball just slipped out, dropping to the turf. Everything froze, but it didn’t last long either. Before I fully comprehended it, bodies collided. I dropped and scrambled, my hands frantically searching for the ball that should’ve been ours. I got there first, but the damage had already been done.

“Secure it!” Ethan called.

I pushed myself up, and my chest constricted. “I’m trying to!”

The game kept moving, and Endicott didn’t show any signs of slowing down. There was another drive which led to another score, and by halftime the gap was clear. The problem was that in all that time it had just kept growing.

The locker room clearly showed a shift in atmosphere. The guys were a lot quieter, and the air felt heavier. Coach didn’t raise his voice when he spoke, which somehow made it hit harder.

“We’ve been through a lot worse, and the one thing we’ve learned from those games was not to panic.”

I glued my eyes to the floor. It didn’t matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my mind to fully commit to the present. Not while Frank and Dakota had taken up residence there. And I didn’t even want to think about the whole Dylan thing yet. All of it was just pressing down on me at once, and quite frankly, I had no idea how to deal with any of it.

“Prescott!”

“What?” I asked, looking up.

“You need to clear your head. We won’t get anywhere if you can’t get your mind in the game.”

This time I didn’t give any sort of acknowledgement because I had really tried, and was failing miserably.

During the second half, we pushed even harder. I took the ball and cut inside, finding a sliver of space and finally breaking through the line for a decent gain.

“Let’s go!” Lucas called.

I reset quickly to prepare for the next play, and once again we followed the same setup. I pushed forward again, but then I stopped. There was no room and no give. The gulls didn’t bend. They didn’t even pretend to miss.

Every mistake we made got turned into something bigger, and by the fourth quarter the scoreboard had run away from us. It was impossible for us to ignore, so I just stood on the field with my hands on my hips and my breath coming through hard. We had been outplayed on every front.

The final whistle blew, and it was followed by complete silence. Even the crowd who came for the opposition felt bad enough not to bring us down anymore. I pulled my helmet off and dragged my hand through my hair as I walked toward the tunnel. The guys didn’t say much, but they didn’t need to either. We all knew what the problem was.

The locker room door slammed shut behind us, and the tension hit instantly. Dylan didn’t even give me a chance to process our loss before he jumped on me.

“What the hell was that?” he said, grabbing my shirt.

I gently tried to push his hands away. “Now is not the time.”

“When will be the right time? After you hand them another game?”

My head shot up. “You think this is on me?”

The guys closed in around us, with many of them trying to talk Dylan down, but it was of no use. He needed to get his frustration out, and I needed to be on the receiving end of it.

“I know it is. You were fumbling out there, missing reads—”

“Yeah?” I stepped forward. “You think you would’ve done better? That you would’ve earned us a win?”

“At least I wouldn’t disappoint my team by fucking around and dropping balls.”