4

“Okay, okay,” Coach boomed. “Quit bitchin’. I want you changed and out on the field in ten. If you won’t listen to me in here, perhaps you’ll listen to me out there.” He stalked off, his anger rippling through the air.

“What do we do, Thatch?” Bryan asked me.

“You want to play football, Bry?”

“Shit, yeah, but they don’t fucking want us here anymore than we want to be here.”

“Suck it up, buttercup.” I slammed a hand to his chest and patted. “If you want Michigan to come knocking, you’re going to need to show them what you’ve got.”

“I don’t know, Thatch… It’s their territory.” His eyes flicked over to where Monroe and his guys were changing into their uniforms.

“Look. Forget about them and focus on the game.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

We got changed, reluctantly pulling on the white and blue jerseys one of the assistant coaches gave us. It felt wrong to be in their colors, but I guess we weren’t Eagles anymore.

We were Raiders.

And fuck if that didn’t feel like some kind of treachery.

“RUN IT AGAIN,” Coach Ford yelled across the field. He reminded me a lot of Coach Forrester from Rixon East, but he had an air of authority that our coach didn’t. I guess it came with being NFL royalty.

Coach Ford knew what it was like to want football, to live and breathe it. He’d moved through the ranks from high school to college all the way to professional football.

He got it.

“Okay, Jenson, switch out with Thatcher.”

“But, Coach—”

“I said switch out, let’s go.”

I grabbed my helmet and pulled it on, jogging into position. For the last forty minutes we’d been running basic drills. Coach had been working with Monroe, letting him run play after play. I was itching to get in there and show Coach what I could do, but I wasn’t about to be an asshole about it.

“Watch it,” Monroe slammed his shoulder into mine as he stalked off.

Anger zipped up my spine, but I shut it down. He wanted me to slip up. He wanted me to fail. Reacting would be playing straight into his hands. No matter how much I wanted to put my fist through the guy’s face.

“Okay, Thatcher, time to show us what you got, son.” Coach’s eyes bore into mine as I got in position to accept the snap.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I checked the field. I’d spent the last couple of weeks learning the Raider playbook inside and out, but I hadn’t put any of it into practice with their offense yet.

Their center—a guy called Aaron—moved into position.

“Hut,” I called, and he snapped the ball to me. Dropping back, I scanned the field for an open player. Our eyes collided and I gave him the signal to run. He took off, pumping his legs and putting up his hand.

I hiked my arm back and then extended it, letting the ball fly. It cut through the air like a rocket, with clear precision and speed. The receiver leaped off the ground and got a hand on the ball, snatching it into his body and landing on two feet.

“Good job,” Coach yelled.

“Not bad, Thatcher,” Aaron said. “For an Eagle.” He smirked from under his helmet.

We ran the play a couple more times. Each time the receiver went deeper and each time I made

the perfect pass. At some point, the rest of the players had stopped to watch. Even Monroe. Although when Coach called us into the huddle, his expression looked anything but impressed.

“Good job out there everyone. I know it’s going to take a little time to adjust to things, but the important thing here is we all want to play football, don’t we?” “Yes, sir.” Our collective voices filled the air.

“Good. Now hit the showers and get to class. I don’t want any shirking this semester. We play hard and work hard. Monroe, Thatcher, a word.” He beckoned us over while the rest of the players jogged off field.

“You both looked good out there. Strong. Focused. I know this is a unique situation and I’ll be honest, it’s not one I planned to find myself in. But I’m looking to both of you to keep your guys in line, you hear me?”

I flicked my eyes to Monroe, and he glowered at me. “Sure, Coach.” Contempt dripped from his words.

“I mean it, Monroe. I’m looking to you to lead the team during this transition period. Now get out of here. Both of you.” He gave me a strange look, but I didn’t ask him what he was thinking. That was a road I didn’t want to go down.

“You think you’re going to win Coach over with a few good throws?” “What the fuck is your problem?” I gritted out.

“My problem? My problem is we don’t want you here, nobody wants you here. So stay the fuck out of my way.”

“You’re just worried I’ll take your spot.” I didn’t want to bait him, but the words were out before I could stop them.

“Worried? About an asshole like you, Thatcher?” Monroe got all up in my face as we reached the locker room doors. “Not likely. This is my team, my school, my fucking season… No way am I going to let a guy from across the river fuck it up for me.” He shoulder checked me as he slipped into the locker room.

“Don’t let him rattle you, man.” Aaron appeared out of nowhere. “He’s feeling the heat.” “Yeah, well, he should.” The corner of my mouth tipped.

“Touché.”

“You know we’d rather not be here either.”

“Yeah, but like Coach said, here we are. And I don’t know about you, but I want to play football.” “Yeah.” I couldn’t argue there.