Second Down - Chapter 3

We managed to finish practice with no more incidents, although it was a rough finish. Everyone was icy toward each other, even the kids not directly part of the conflict. The vibes were just off, and the coach wasn’t having it. We’d ended up having to run laps for the last ten minutes of practice, with a threat that we’d spend the entire next day running laps if we didn’t get our heads out of our asses.

The locker room wasn’t any better. We managed to keep our space and didn’t have any blowups, but I kept catching Elijah glaring at me every time I looked his direction. The rest of the guys joined in with him, adding in the occasional muttered threats to go along with the glares.

I got looks from the walk-on guys too, although different ones, like they were trying to figure me out. I knew that so far, I’d been more or less standoffish, clearly friends with Elijah and the rest, while not participating with them in any of the mistreatment. I also hadn’t stopped it, which meant until today they had probably put me in the enemy category.

From the way they were looking at me, it was possible that estimation was changing, but they weren’t ready to accept me with open arms either.

Not that I’d expected it.

I hadn’t stood up to Hunter because I was hoping for some kind of favoritism or whatever from the new guys. I’d done it because I couldn’t take seeing them treated like that, not with how I remembered feeling when people had treated me the same way. Even if that was only in a dream.

I just wished I’d given it a little more thought before I’d done it, because I was pretty sure I’d just burned a bridge with the guys that I wasn’t going to be able to fix. These guys had been my main group of friends since forever, and the way we’d acted, it had kind of alienated anyone else from being friends with us. Sure, we’d had hangers-on in middle school, since we’d been popular football players, but they all wanted something from us.

Now, at best, I was going to have a few guys that might be apathetic to me and a bunch of guys who were going to actively hate me for being a traitor, which I was positive is how Elijah was seeing me. Not that I would change my actions. I don’t think I could continue hanging with Elijah and the rest of them now that I could see how they really were.

But part of me wished I could. I didn’t want my freshman year to suck, and that seemed like exactly how it was going to be.

I put the rest of my stuff away, grabbed my bag, and headed out of the locker room without looking at anyone else. I was walking home again today, since I didn’t have my license yet, Mom never felt like driving if she didn’t have to for work, and Dad wouldn’t be home from work for a few hours.

I had my head down, mostly just trying to ignore everyone, when a voice yelled out, “Blake!”

I looked up and barely readied myself before Brandy flung herself at me, her arms locking around my neck as she nearly knocked me off balance as she kissed me.

I stumbled back a step as she began to kiss me aggressively. Honestly, I was mostly trying to get my bearings. We’d been dating for seven months, but with how messed up this dream had my head, I hadn’t even thought about her all week. I did vaguely remember she was supposed to be back from cheer camp today, but it had completely slipped my mind.

“Whoa,” I breathed as she finally pulled back. “Hey there.”

“I’m back! Did you miss me?”

“I, uh...” I said while my brain scrambled to catch up. “Yeah, of course. How was camp?”

“Oh my god, it was amazing!” Brandy bounced on her toes, her ponytail swinging. “But never mind that. I saw you out there today. When did you get so good?”

“You were watching practice?”

“Duh! As soon as I got back, I had to come see my man in action. Seriously, Blake. You were incredible. I watched all your games last year, and you were good but... not this good.”

I wasn’t sure if I agreed with her or not. I think I was a little better because I was starting to take some of the stuff I remember being taught my freshman and especially sophomore years in the dream life and applying them. Considering how clumsy we’d looked as a unit, especially today, I wouldn’t think anyone would call what we did ‘amazing.’

“Thanks,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck and taking a slight step back from her.

Brandy kept talking, but I wasn’t really registering what she was saying. I started having a memory of this reunion, although slightly different, since she’d commiserated with my sitting on the bench and Gabriel starting instead.

I also started to remember something else from the dream life. A fight we had around Christmas because I found out she’d been cheating on me with Mason since the middle of the summer. Part of me wanted to be disgusted by the revelation, but for the dream me, it was the distant past, and I found myself torn between being heartbroken and apathy, which was a really strange sensation.

I vaguely remembered that in the dream timeline, I had discovered Brandy’s affair when someone, one of the girls on the cheer squad I think, told me she saw them kissing outside of the Diner just before Christmas break. The revelation had led to Mason being ostracized from our group until he eventually broke up with her, at which point the guys let him back in. The whole situation had been a mess.

I tried to think about what happened to her in the dream life after that, but in that timeline, we hadn’t kept in touch once she broke up with Mason. Other than seeing each other around school, we never really spoke. She had gotten involved with a basketball player by the end of the year, and I think she was kicked off the cheer team our sophomore year after a falling out with another cheerleader who was close to Mason.

The more I thought about it, the more certain I became that Brandy and Mason were already seeing each other before she went to cheer camp. Although I’d been just accepting that the dream was somehow matching with my life, but part of me had written that off as just predicting what was going to happen.

My friends were jerks, so that wasn’t any kind of premonition, just a realization that they were and I had been too. Maybe that was maturing or whatever. Coaches yelling and pushing us? I mean, that’s just football. Joshua being a creep? I mean, it wasn’t a big leap, although serial killer seemed like the kind of wild escalation that dreams had.

I couldn’t really think about my dad, cause when I did, it just made me incredibly sad. But looking at Brandy, and feeling the revulsion toward her from the dream instead of what I felt when I saw her in June. This was different. This was changing my opinion on someone based on something I had no way of knowing was true or not.

But... looking at her, I could feel a pit in my stomach. I just knew it was true.

“...and then Missy tried to do a backflip, but she totally wiped out! You should’ve seen Coach’s face. I swear, I thought she was gonna... Blake? Hello? Earth to Blake!”

“Sorry, what?” I said, suddenly snapping back to the here and now.

“Seriously? I’ve been talking for like, ever,” she said, crossing her arms and cocking her head. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing, I’m just... tired. Practice was rough today.”

“Aw, poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?”

She leaned in, but I took a step back.

“I just really need to go home, get a shower and lay down for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Oh. Okay. Will you call me later?”

“Sure,” I said, trying to give her a smile.

Brandy hesitated for a second, then quickly pecked me on the cheek before turning to leave.

“Elijah. Mason. I’m back,” she said past me as the other guys came out of the locker room.

I couldn’t help myself and looked back. Maybe it was my imagination, or the image of her kissing him in my dream memories, but I could swear she was giving him a look, and he was returning it.

I just shouldered my bag. The whole situation gave me a lot to think about as I started the long walk home.

***

Connor hit the ground, slipping and letting his defenders through, which caused the pocket to start to collapse around me as the rest tried to adjust and let more through. I’d been in the middle of my read and no one was open yet, and there was no way I was making it through the rest of them before I got hit.

I spun to my right, just twisting away from Victor’s outstretched arms and made it around the chaos, continuing right and pushing as hard as I could with everyone started to angle in for me.

It was a race to pick up as much yardage as I could before they got to me. There were too many people between me and the end zone and I was forced to step out of bounds after about twenty yards of pick up. Close enough to the goal line that I was a little annoyed I didn’t make it the last few yards, but still a good run.

“That’s it!” Coach Heidemann blew the whistle, signaling the end of practice.

I tossed the ball to Coach Plummer and jogged back to join everyone else.

“Nice hustle, Sims,” he said as I caught up to them. “Alright, everybody in! Good work today, everyone. Rosters will be posted shortly, so stick around. Alright, hit the locker rooms. Simms, hold back a minute.”

I watched everyone else walking toward the locker room and tried to think what I might have done to get me pulled out from everyone else.

“That was some run, Blake. You’ve got a lot of talent and I can really see you going far with our program, but I want you to think about how you want to do that. The quarterback is the leader of the team, and that means you set the standard for how the rest of your guys play. If you buck the rules, they’re all gonna do it.”

“I’m not sure what I did wrong, coach.”

“You got out of the pocket instead of dumping the ball or hitting one of your check downs. I know it worked out for you this time, but we play tight in the pocket for a reason. I know you’ve probably watched a few of the college guys and even one or two of the pros who get a lot of credit for how mobile they are, but I want you to think about how they are in the minority and why you don’t see it in high school much. For most it ends in a sack and lost yardage more often than not. You gotta stay in the pocket longer, go through your reads, and either pass or hand it off. It’s about making the smart play, not the flashy one.”

“What if I get through my reads quickly and see they’re all covered?”

“If you’re getting through your reads that fast, it means you’re not doing it correctly.”

I bit my tongue, memories from my dream life flooding back. I remembered watching how the game evolved and changed in the mid-2000s, focusing more on spacing and quick reads, how unbelievably fast everyone moved. Even in the community flag football I’d played in that other life, the game had been much quicker, with shotgun spreads and more passing than running.

Of course, there were a lot of changes that led to that, more than just a QB that liked to run. And I couldn’t exactly make an argument based on some half-remembered dream of a life I hadn’t actually lived.

“Yes, Coach,” I said instead.

“Just think on it. Like I said, you did good, and sometimes it will be necessary, but I want you to succeed. I’m seeing a lot of raw talent already and I think you can do great things. But that requires you to be a team player.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Alright, get going,” he said, whacking me lightly on the side of the leg with his clipboard.

As I jogged towards the locker room, I couldn’t help but think about how the game would change in the coming years. Players would get faster, more athletic. If I remembered correctly, we weren’t that far off from some of those future quarterbacks early years in college quarterbacks.

Not that I should be making plans based on a stupid dream, but it wouldn’t hurt to get faster, focus on my conditioning, just in case.

There was a crowd already gathered near the cork board outside the coaches’ offices when I got into the locker room. The coaches were still in the offices, huddled up and talking, but Hunter was coming out carrying several pages that he began to put up on the board with thumbtacks. 

He looked back and gave this look to Elijah just as someone shouted, “Roster’s up!”

I don’t know why I was nervous, since I knew I made it. Even without what happened in the dream life suggestion, I’d made the freshman team. Coach Heidemann’s speech all but confirmed it for me. You didn’t lecture a player about making sure they stayed within the system if you planned to cut them ten minutes later.

I waited as guys pushed to the front, tracing down the list of names for each team, looking for theirs. Most of us already knew more or less what team we were going to be on, and there wasn’t much need to check the rosters of the other teams, although I did notice Elijah going to the JV list first, like he was certain that was where he was going to find his listing.

“This is bullshit,” Tyrell said, particularly loudly, as he pushed his way back from the list and went to his temporary locker, slamming the door shut hard enough it just rebounded back open, instead of closing.

That was surprising. Tyrell hadn’t made many mistakes and he was huge. I couldn’t imagine not wanting someone like him on the field. Connor was much quieter as he made his way to join Tyrell, sitting on the bench, staring at his feet. His body language made it plainly obvious that he hadn’t made it either.

Even that was surprising. Yes, he’d had a few problems over the week, but he’d also had some solid blocks, enough that I would have thought the coaches would give him a chance to train up into the position.

I mean, that was the whole point of the freshman team, wasn’t it?

I felt bad for them.

As the crowd emptied out, I made my way up to the list to at least confirm I’d made it and get back on the field for the team meetings. I was surprised that I couldn’t find my name either, enough so that I went down the list a second time, just to be sure I didn’t miss it. I then checked JV, which I wouldn’t have thought I’d made it on, but still made more sense than not being listed at all.

I didn’t find my name there either. I even checked varsity just to be sure before going back and looking at the freshman list again. No matter how many times I checked it, I kept getting the same answer.

I wasn’t on the list. I hadn’t made a team.

I was still kind of reeling when Coach Holloway came out of the offices and said, “Alright, gentlemen, gather ‘round!”

While everyone else moved to stand around the coach, I stayed by the board, in shell shock as much as anything else.

“First off, I want to thank each and every one of you for the effort you’ve put in this week. The dedication and hard work you’ve shown is truly impressive. Now, for those who didn’t see their names on that list, this isn’t the end of the road. Far from it. This is just the beginning of your journey. You have a whole year ahead of you. A year to train, to improve, to come back stronger than ever. Any of the coaches you worked with this week will be happy to sit down with you, give you some pointers on where to focus your efforts.”

He looked around at everyone, clearly not wanting to single any one person out, but I couldn’t help but feel he was looking directly at me as he said that.

“Now, for those who did make the cut,” he continued. “I want to see you out on the field in five minutes. We’ll have a quick assembly as a group, then break into individual team meetings. We’ll go over expectations, both on and off the field, and what you can look forward to this year.”

Very few kids got cut. With three teams that could have a full roster, there were a lot of open spots. The locker room emptied as all the kids who were on the lists ran out, whooping and hollering.

I limply sat down on a bench. There were almost fifteen of us left behind, looking like we’d been hit by a bus. I was surprised that, in addition to myself, all four of the walk-on freshmen had been cut.

It was all just... unbelievable. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that I hadn’t made the team. How was this possible? I’d been given way more snaps than Gabriel, and he’d made it while I hadn’t? It didn’t make any sense.

A wave of self-loathing washed over me. It had to be that stupid dream. I’d let myself get caught up in all this dream life nonsense, convinced I was destined to make the team and even lead JV next year. Now here I was, cut before the season even started.

It was so damned disappointing, all I wanted to do was go home and never see the field house again, but at the same time, I didn’t want to leave because that would mean it was real. That it was final. Jamal, Tyrell, Connor, and Miguel seemed to be feeling about the same because they all just kind of sat slumped on benches, with the same hang-dog expression I had.

I was so lost in my thoughts I barely registered Coach Heidemann coming back into the locker room until he spoke.

“What the hell are you five still doing in here? You should be out on the field with everyone else!”

I looked up at him, more confused than anything else. “We were cut, Coach. We shouldn’t be on the field.”

“Cut? What are you talking about?”

I stood up and walked over to the roster sheet, pointing at it. “We’re not on the list, Coach.”

“What?” he said, joining me board, looking down the freshman players’ list. “This doesn’t make any sense. Wait here.”

As he left, I turned to the other four guys and said, “That was weird, right?”

“Yeah,” Miguel said, the rest of them exchanging glances.

We all kind of just... waited there as time ticked by. I was feeling some serious emotional whiplash, from absolute certainty after talking to Coach Heidemann, to absolute dejection, and now just confusion.

Finally, Coach Heidemann returned with Coach Holloway and Coach Easley in tow. They huddled around the list, muttering to each other before taking it off the wall and disappearing into the coaches’ office.

“What the hell is going on?” Jamal said, clearly not able to take it anymore.

“I have no idea,” I replied, right before being hit by a massive memory from the dream.

In it, I’d been with Elijsah, Hunter, and the rest, creating a fake list that we put up in front of the real one, to convince a bunch of the guys trying out we didn’t like that they didn’t make it. Could it be the same guys? In that other life, two of the kids we’d pranked had quit even after being told they’d actually made the team. The other two hadn’t made it the following year after more hazing and bullying.

I instantly got angry, realizing exactly what had happened. Hunter had put the list up and looked to Elijah. The assholes. The anger turned to shame as I remembered participating and laughing along with them as we’d done the same thing in my dream life. I’d thought it was so funny, the sad looks on the faces of the guys who’d been so sure they were going to make it.

Before I could say anything to the others, reassure them it was a stupid prank, the coaches came out of their offices.

“There’s been a mix-up. This isn’t the correct list. All five of you made the freshman team,” Coach Holloway said.

Tyrell let out a whoop of joy, and Coach Heidemann chuckled. “Go ahead and get out on the field with everyone else.”

The coaches headed back out to the field and we followed behind them, a little slower.

I slowed down until I was walking next to Jamal and extended my hand. “I’m glad you guys made it.”

He grasped it firmly and said, “You too, man.”

I knew it was only a dream, but that at least helped ease the guilt of having taken part in the prank in my dream life. Not completely, but a little bit.