Page 103 of Campus Heat

Coach stepped into the locker room, and the noise instantly faded. He looked around for a moment and then took a deep, steadying breath.

“Helmets on,” he said.

Plastic snapped and buckles clipped into place. It only took a moment for each of us to stand there, ready for what was about to come.

Harris folded his arms. “You know what everyone expects today. Another loss. A score to add to the list. They expect WestConn to walk in here and hand us our asses like they did last time.”

The name hung in the air, and I shifted uncomfortably. WestConn had absolutely destroyed us earlier in the season. They had embarrassed us like no one else could, and it still stung.

Harris nodded slowly. “But I’ve seen something none of them know about. I’ve seen what happens in practice and you’ve built something.”

He paused and made eye contact with me, Cam, and Lucas. He held it for just a moment before moving on.

“This is your chance to show them what you’re made of.”

The doors to the tunnel opened wide, and suddenly the noise from the stadium flooded in. We burst onto the field, and the lights overhead made us feel like kings. The sight of the stand drew me in, and I blinked in surprise. It was fuller than we had ever seen it, and not all of them were there for our competitors. Students wearing blue and gold packed the bleachers, waving homemade signs and banners that fluttered in the cool evening air.

Encouraging sentences like ‘Go Highlanders’ and ‘You can do it’ flooded my vision, and I finally understood what people meant when they said they had butterflies in their stomach. Those people had come out to support us, and that added more pressure on our already sagging shoulders.

The band played loudly while the cheer squad launched into its opening routine. Elizabeth stood tall and proud, leading the team like never before, but even from across the field I could see that she was scanning the sidelines. She was looking for me because in all this excitement we hadn’t been able to do our little ritual. It sucked big time, but unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about it.

Lucas jogged beside me. “Don’t screw this up.”

“That was a really fantastic pep talk,” I teased.

“I’m just saying, man,” he shrugged. “We need your head in the game this time.”

WestConn won the toss and took the ball first. From the very first play, it was clear they hadn’t come to make it easy for us. Their quarterback dropped back and fired a quick pass to the sideline that moved the chains immediately. And then just a few plays later, their running back found a gap in our defensive line and exploded right through it.

“Malik!” someone shouted from the stands.

Malik answered the call by chasing him down and dragging him to the turf, but he had already gotten a thirty-yard gain. The damage had already been done. Two plays later, the WestConn quarterback lofted a pass into the corner of the end zone. Touchdown. The visiting sideline erupted as the scoreboard flashed WestConn 7—Havenport 0.

I jogged onto the field with the offense as the crowd murmured nervously. It was the same start as every other game we’d had, but this time it felt different.

“Hey,” Elizabeth waved as she waited near the sideline.

She held up the familiar fruity wrapper, and my heart skipped a beat. It was a granola bar. I jogged closer and took one quick bite.

“Remember, one play at a time,” she whispered, but for the first time she sounded rushed.

“Trips right,” I said as I rejoined the team. “Quick slant.”

Cam clapped his hands eagerly. “Let’s do this!”

The ball snapped, and I dropped back to scan the field. Lucas cut across the middle, and I fired the ball just as a linebacker lunged toward me. Lucas caught it cleanly and spun away.

“Go!” Cam encouraged.

Lucas managed to sprint for fifteen yards before he got pushed out of bounds. First down. Our side of the stand erupted.

“Let’s go!” Dylan shouted eagerly.

For the next play, the hand-off went to Dylan. He plowed through the two defenders, dragging one with him before collapsing at eight yards.

“Keep pushing,” Cam shouted.

The drive kept moving with short passes and hard runs. The offensive line held strong. I stood inside the red zone and glanced at Cam.