Second Down - Chapter 16

“...worry about it. Mom will understand,” Eduardo said as we walked into the cafeteria.

“Make sure she knows I’m going to keep coming to help, but it might have to switch to Sundays for now. JV plays on Saturdays every week, which the evenings are going to be pretty packed. Maybe I could come earlier, but I want to see how the first few weeks go.”

“No, Sundays are good. I’ll check with Mom, but she’s good either way.”

“Cool. I’d come this Sunday, but I’m losing both Thursday and Saturday from doing homework, and I was already starting to fall behind. So I need at least a full day to try and get caught up.”

“No, hey, it’s fine. I can’t tell you how happy Mom is just for the little stuff you did last week. Trust me, she thinks you’re an angel, and keeps saying I need to be more like you.”

“Ha, no, you don’t want to do that,” I said, and then stopped as something caught my eye.

Li, who hadn’t been in the cafeteria on Monday, was back and sitting by herself again. We’d made some small progress on Friday, and I’d hoped to see her again yesterday. She was here today, and I was still hoping to build on that progress.

“Hey,” I said to Eduardo. “There’s something I gotta do real quick. Could you let the other guys know I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Uhh, maybe I should wait with…”

“You’ll be fine. Trust me, I’ll be along in a minute. Okay?”

He nodded, took a deep breath, and started walking toward our table. I watched him for a moment, making sure he made it okay. The guys really had taken to him, I think mostly because they saw how hard I was working to get him integrated into the group. They were good guys and they’d joined in almost immediately his first few days eating with us.

Which is why I was happy to see Miguel waving him over as soon as he noticed him, which seemed to make Eduardo relax. Or at least relax as much as he ever did.

Seeing that he was okay, I turned and headed toward Li, who had her head in a book and didn’t look up until I sat my lunch down and sat in the seat in front of her.

“Studying and eating, huh?” I asked, seeing that the book was some kind of math textbook.

Her eyes flicked up from her book and then back to it, as she said, “I guess.”

It wasn’t exactly a warm welcome, but at least she didn’t tell me to get lost with the first sentence.

Progress.

“I meant to ask you when we were walking on Friday, but I forgot. You weren’t at lunch that day, and I didn’t see you here yesterday. You don’t eat lunch every day?”

“I do, but sometimes I eat it while doing a tutoring session for people who don’t have time after school.”

“Ohh, I’d been wondering why you were leaving school around the same time my practice got out a bunch of times. I couldn’t figure out what else was going on after school that would keep someone around. Do you tutor a lot of people?”

“Some.”

“Is it like a job or…”

She sighed and closed her book, I guess realizing I wasn’t going to leave her alone any time soon. “Kind of. Not officially, I guess, but my mom sets it up with some kids’ parents or whatever.”

“But you get paid, right?”

“Yeah. Plus, it’ll look good on my college transcript.”

“Huh, that’s interesting actually.”

“Why?” she said, her eyes narrowing.

“I’ve been trying to get out of remedial classes and convinced a couple of my teachers to help me get on level for next year, so they’ve been assigning extra work to me that’s usually ahead of what we’re working on in class. But it’s a lot, and they said they’ll only keep helping me as long as I show I’m up for the challenge. I’ve been going in and getting help from them here when I can, but football takes up my entire time after school, and honestly, I’m starting to drown in it. Since you do tutoring and I think we live kind of near each other, I thought maybe tutoring could help.”

“You’re seriously asking me to tutor you?”

“Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble and I can convince my parents and afford whatever you charge. Seriously, I need it. Football really is picking up, and the workload’s getting intense.”

“This isn’t some kind of trick?”

“No. You can talk to my teachers if you want and confirm everything. Ms. White and Mrs. Mace have been doing the most work with me.”

“I... guess.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s okay, you don’t have to pay. That’s just for the stuff my mom sets up.”

“Well, if I need to, I will. I really could use the help.”

“Just do the work and don’t make me regret it, and we’ll be even.”

“Deal,” I said, and then decided since things were going well, I was going to shoot for the moon. “So, why don’t you come back and sit with me and my friends.”

“Why?”

“Why not? Wouldn’t it be more fun to be with other people, and even maybe make some more friends? Really, they’re good guys, and it’s not just all football players. Eduardo is a friend of mine, he doesn’t play any sports that I know of, and he started sitting with us last week. He’s doing fine, see?”

Li looked past me to my table where Eduardo was listening to Miguel talk about something, nodding occasionally while Connor and Jamal were arguing about something I couldn’t hear.

“Just a bunch of normal guys eating lunch. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“A lot,” Li said, but she kept watching the table.

And if it does, you could move back to this empty table. It’ll be more fun sitting with friends.”

“We’re friends now?” Li asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“I hope so.” I shrugged. “I mean, you did just agree to help tutor me. That’s kind of friend territory, right?”

Li stayed quiet for what felt like forever, studying our table.

Finally, she let out a small sigh. “Fine.”

I tried not to show how pleased I was, keeping my voice casual. “Cool. Here, let me help you with that stuff.”

I reached for her books, but she pulled them back. “I can carry my own books.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, holding up my hands. “Just trying to help.”

We walked over to the table together, Li trailing slightly behind me. The guys looked up as we approached.

“Hey guys, this is my friend Li. She’s gonna join us for lunch. Li, that’s Miguel, Connor, Jamal, Tyrell, and Eduardo.”

“Hi,” Li said softly.

“There’s space next to Eduardo,” I said, pointing to the empty spot.

Li hesitated for just a second before sitting down. Eduardo gave her a small smile, which she returned after a moment.

“So what were you guys arguing about?” I asked Connor and Jamal, trying to get the conversation flowing again.

Connor immediately jumped in, talking about his feelings on some movie they were arguing about, which Jamal clearly didn’t agree with.

No one brought a lot of attention to Li, but they weren’t shunning her either. Mostly just let her exist with them, which is what I think she needed, because she visibly started to relax after a few minutes.

Honestly, I felt like I was getting good at this.

***

Thursday, we were back on the field against Eastwood High School from El Paso. For the first time since the season started, Elijah looked overly pleased with himself instead of glowering at me the whole time. As predicted, he had taken the news that I had been moved to JV badly, complaining loudly to anyone who would listen about how, if they wanted to turn things around, he should have been moved to JV instead of me.

Never mind the only win the freshman team had was while he had been benched.

At least practice had been better every day since I had been on the opposite end of the field with JV and varsity. We would warm up together and then switch in and out with them, one group on the field working plays while the other was either in the locker room or with the defensive or offensive coordinator. I had to miss today’s practice, which would involve JV playing against varsity, as a buildup to varsity’s game tomorrow.

Miguel and the rest had told me that since I left, Elijah had become more of a pain, walking around like he was the big man on the team now. Technically, Tyrell had been assigned captain of the team for today’s game, but the coach made it known they would be picking the new permanent captain soon. Gabriel should have been making a push for that spot, but he was deferring everything to Elijah.

Which was a mistake.

“Ready for the show? See how a real team plays,” Elijah said as we headed for the fieldhouse to do our run on and start the game.

“Front row seat to watch us crush Eastwood.”

“Break a leg out,” I said, and then muttered. “Preferably your own.”

The fact that he was the reason we had done bad never seemed to cross his thick skull.

Coach Heidemann gathered us up in the field house and said, “Listen up, guys. Tonight isn’t just about winning or losing. It’s about proving we can work together as a team. I expect to see hustle and hard work, but I also expect for you to all play the mental game like we’ve been talking about. Watch the other team, make your adjustments, and you’re going to win this thing. Alright, let’s go show them what Wheaton is all about.”

The speech got everyone excited, and we ran out onto the field like we were going to roll over the other team. Unfortunately, motivation is just one part of the puzzle, and the rest of the pieces seemed to be missing.

The first quarter started rough. Gabriel was slow making his reads, and their defense was tough, putting a ton of pressure on our offensive line. He was barely getting his passes off before El Paso’s the defense crashed in. Our running game wasn’t faring much better with a two-yard gain here, a three-yard loss there.

Every drive ended in a punt.

There was one close moment when Elijah broke free of his route, but Gabriel’s throw sailed high, missing by a mile.

The rest of the quarter unfolded like a slow-motion car crash. Their defense kept bringing pressure, and Gabriel kept looking more rattled. When the inevitable happened, a blindside hit that jarred the ball loose, I almost saw it coming before it happened.

Their linebacker scooped up the fumble and rumbled into the end zone as the quarter expired. One kick later, it was seven-nothing, visitors. The crowd groaned.

The second quarter unfolded a lot like the first half. Gabriel kept forcing passes to Elijah, completely ignoring wide-open receivers downfield. I watched Miguel break free of coverage three times, waving his arms frantically, but Gabriel never even looked in his direction.

Coach was nearly frothing at the mouth halfway through the quarter as yet another rushed throw sailed straight toward two defenders hovering around Elijah. The safety snatched it easily, and my stomach dropped as he sprinted down the sideline. Our guys managed to push him out of bounds, but the damage was done.

“What was that?” Coach Heidemann called out as Gabriel jogged to the sideline. “You had Miguel wide open on the crossing route.”

“Didn’t see him,” Gabriel mumbled, ducking his head.

“Because you weren’t looking,” I said quietly, earning a sharp look from Coach.

Three plays later, Eastwood’s running back punched it in from the five-yard line. The scoreboard flipped to fourteen to zero. Coach Heidemann walked up and down our sideline like a caged animal, clipboard tucked under his arm.

“He’s playing favorites instead of football,” Miguel said, dropping onto the bench next to me. “I might as well be invisible out there.”

“Trust me, I see you getting open. But Gabriel’s got Elijah-vision right now.”

“More like Elijah-pressure,” Miguel said, taking a sip of water. “It’s just like I was telling you. About how he’s been in practice.”

“Just be patient. Coach sees it too.”

The half ended shortly after without much more movement. Things in the locker room as we piled in for halftime were tense, to say the least. Most of the team sat silently on the wooden benches, heads down, clearly defeated.

Almost everyone.

Elijah threw his helmet into his cubby as soon as he got to his locker and started pacing, yelling at everyone like he was the team captain.

“You call that blocking? My grandma could hold the line better than you guys!” He jabbed a finger at Connor. “Three sacks! Three!”

“Maybe if you ran your routes right, Gabriel wouldn’t have to hold the ball so long,” Tyrell said, standing up. “Or maybe you could release him to pass to someone other than you. Miguel has been open half the game, but he’s throwing to you every damn time.”

Half the team looked to Gabriel for some kind of response, even though everyone knew it was true. Gabriel didn’t look up. Before Elijah could respond, Coach Heidemann walked in looking as angry as I’ve ever seen him.

“Enough!” he said, clearly having heard some of that exchange. I don’t care who you think is at fault. If we don’t start acting like a team, this game is over. That was pathetic. I’ve seen all of you look better in practice than you did out there today. We’ve got two quarters to turn this around. You know what separates good teams from great ones? It’s not talent. It’s how they respond when things go wrong. I need you all to go back out there in the next round. You understand me?”

A few players muttered half-hearted affirmations. Elijah folded his arms and stared at the ground.

“I said, do you understand me?” Coach said, raising his voice.

This time we responded louder, though the energy was still low. He nodded once, as if accepting that was the best we could muster. As we stood to head back to the field, Coach grabbed Gabriel’s shoulder and pulled him aside. I couldn’t hear what coach said to him, but he occasionally jabbed the air or pointed at Gabriel for emphasis. Gabriel nodded a few times and looked like he was going to puke.

The third quarter kicked off, but it was clear from our first snap that nothing had changed. Gabriel hesitated, the pocket collapsed, and he scrambled out to his right, flinging the ball toward Elijah in desperation. It sailed wide, landing ten yards out of bounds.

Next drive, a glimmer of hope emerged. Gabriel finally decided to throw to Miguel, hitting him on a short slant for a gain of seven. The sideline erupted in cheers at finally seeing some kind of forward movement. The joy was short-lived. On the next play, the line gave way, and Gabriel was sacked for a loss of eight.

We punted. Again.

By the time the defense handed us the ball back, it was clear frustration was mounting. Gabriel dropped back on third-and-long, and instead of checking his options, he locked onto Elijah, who wasn’t even open. The throw was high and late, picked off by their cornerback. He sprinted thirty yards downfield before we managed to reel him in.

Their offense capitalized on the mistake with ruthless efficiency. Three plays later, their running back darted through a gap and into the end zone. The scoreboard now read twenty-one and zero.

It seemed like this was going to be a complete blowout. We did have a moment of luck two drives later when Gabriel managed to hand off cleanly to Hunter just as their defense misread the play, leaving a hole open for him. Hunter might have been a jerk, or at least friends with jerks, but he wasn’t a bad player and he took advantage of the opportunity he was given, breaking through for a fifty-yard run and our first points of the night. It was like a shot of adrenaline to the team. The extra point sailed through the uprights, and for a moment, we had a sliver of hope.

But it didn’t last.

Late in the quarter, Elijah decided to take matters into his own hands. On a third-and-short, he caught a screen pass and, instead of cutting upfield for a safe gain, he juked left, then right, showboating. The ball popped loose, and their linebacker pounced on it.

Coach Heidemann threw his clipboard to the ground hard enough to break it, yelling at everyone and no one in particular.

Thankfully our defense stopped it from turning into yet another run, but we’d wasted what little momentum we’d managed to build.

As the third quarter ended, Coach sent for me, along with Wayne and Clarke. It wasn’t hard to tell what was about to happen.

“Blake, you’re in at QB. Lowry and Reeves, you’re in for Garner and Lehr.”

Elijah’s face twisted with fury. “What? You can’t…”

He stopped as soon as he spoke, realizing how much he’d just screwed up. Everyone tried to not look at him or coach, not wanting to get caught in whatever crossfire that might happen.

“I can and I am. Now get off my field. You’re done for tonight.”

When the defense finally stopped their last drive, I grabbed my helmet and jogged onto the field. It was actually weird, playing with absolutely no pressure. No one actually expected me to save us from this mess and I wouldn’t be around tomorrow to see the results, I’d be at practice with JV.

They, however, were going to feel the pain, of that I had no doubt. Next week coach wasn’t going to be able to sub me in, which meant he was going to have to find a way to get Gabriel to start playing football instead of catch with Elijah.

The team was feeling a little energized, I think hoping this meant they were going to finally have some progress.

I wanted to take advantage of that excitement as best I could, and so did coach, not calling the normal first running play, but giving me an opportunity to pass out of the gate. At the snap, I dropped back three steps, watching Miguel cut inside while Wayne streaked down the sideline. The safety bit on Miguel’s route, leaving Wayne one-on-one. I released the ball just as Wayne broke free.

Wayne tracked it perfectly, snagging the pass over his shoulder and accelerating past the last defender. The crowd erupted as he crossed the goal line.

With the extra point, we’d closed the gap.

It was a little back and forth for a bit, with their defense scrambling to reset their play style to watch for my longer passes. To make up for the opportunities it gave us inside. Our defense, however, was energized, putting on some serious pressure.

At just under five minutes to play, Tyrell and Jesse collapsed the pocket, forcing an incomplete pass on fourth down much deeper into our side of the field than El Paso would have wanted.

Since they were covering deep a lot more than they had with Gabriel, we pushed downfield methodically. Hunter broke free for nine yards. Wayne caught a short pass for five. We just kept moving the chains downfield.

With two minutes left, we were second and seven from our thirty-five. The closer they got to the endzone, the more aggressive they started getting. They’d already blitzed once, and I was waiting for it to happen again.

As soon as I got the snap, I saw their linebackers charging. Unfortunately, Clarke missed his block almost completely, and part of our line started to collapse before I’d even gotten set for the pass that had been planned.

Everything slowed down. A defensive end broke free, heading straight for me. Instead of throwing it away, I stepped up into the collapsing pocket. The defender’s hands brushed my jersey as I slipped past him.

Because of the way the pocket had collapsed, I saw an opening in the line, and I took it, pushing through the hole. I managed to dodge another grab for my while Tyrell, who somehow realized what I was doing, really dug in and managed to hold two guys back just enough for me to get through.

Open field ahead. My legs pumped harder than they ever had before as I cut toward the sideline. I could see their cornerbacks trying to cut me off, but Miguel managed to get himself in between me and the closest one.

Twenty yards. Fifteen. Ten. Their safety closed in, but I was faster than he was, so if he caught me, it was going to be just at the line.

I dove for the end zone as a defender grabbed my ankle. The ball crossed the plane just before my knee hit.

“Touchdown!” The referee’s arms went up. The sideline exploded.

Miguel was the first to reach me, pulling me up from the turf. “That was insane! Where did that come from?”

I couldn’t stop grinning. “Sometimes you just have to make something happen.”

Coach Heidemann met me at the sideline. “Now that’s playing quarterback. Way to keep your head and make a play.”

The extra point tied it at twenty-one all. We’d erased a two-touchdown deficit in just under a quarter. Most of the rest of the team was wild with excitement. With the exception of Jake, who looked pissed and Gabriel looked like he was going to be sick.

I’m sure Elijah, hearing us tie it up in the locker room, was on the verge of destroying stuff.

There was hardly any time left in the game, but they managed to get a field goal with only a few seconds left, winning the game. Not that it seemed to matter. From the way our team acted, you would have thought we’d won instead of lost.