Perfect Season (12 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

TROY HATED SETH'S PLAN,
but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He changed for practice and went out onto the sun-drenched field early with most of the rest of the team. From there, he could see the entrance to the coaches' offices and team meeting rooms, so he saw when Seth came out with his arm around the shoulder pads of Grant Reed. The two of them arrived at the field together and Seth blew his whistle. Instead of sending the team to get warmed up, he called them all in.

Troy took a knee and chomped on his mouthpiece.

“Guys,” Seth said, looking around at them with his eyes hidden behind sunglasses, “you've worked hard. You've had a great camp. This is our last double-session practice day. Tomorrow is a light walk-through and Saturday is our intrasquad scrimmage. Next week, school starts. A week from tomorrow, we take the field against Lawton, and it'll be the beginning of something special, something Summit football has never been a part of, a championship. We'll be playing one of the best teams around. Summit hasn't beaten Lawton in twenty years, but it starts with them.

“In order to win, I'm going to make some changes. We've allowed guys to play positions they wanted and given the first-string spots based on seniority. That's all over. Every move I make now is so that we can
win.
I told you from the beginning, that's how it would be. If you don't like what I'm about to do, you go to your individual coach and let him know. He'll explain our decision. If you can't work it out with him, then you and he will come to me. Do
not
go home to Mommy and Daddy and gripe about your position or what team you're on. I
will not
discuss any of that with parents unless you've first talked to your position coach, then to me. Everyone understand that?”

Seth's voice oozed with authority and simmered with aggressiveness.

“Good. Now, I've made a decision on captains. It's a great honor to be a captain, and there were several of you who could have gotten it, but not everyone can be one. I picked two, and I want to introduce them to you now. First, Chance Bryant.”

Everyone clapped, no one harder than Troy. Chance's face went red, but he stood, towering over the rest of them, and went to shake Seth's hand.

“Stay right here.” Seth grabbed Chance's collar to keep him in front of the team. “Chance is our offensive captain. On defense . . . our captain is Grant Reed.”

There was an instant of shock when no one clapped, then Billy Tomkins started a thunderous applause and the rest of the team followed, with some—like Troy—doing only what was required, no more. Reed grinned and it was obvious he already knew his captaincy was coming.

Seth blew his whistle and had the team warm up. They ran through individual drills and then went to team defense. Reed played strong safety with Tomkins right in front of him at middle linebacker. Troy didn't play defense, and neither did Chuku, Levi, or Spencer, so they helped out on the scout team, mimicking Lawton's offense as best they could for the Summit defense to practice against. Reed had always been a loudmouth, but now, as a captain, he seemed even more vocal, howling and barking at his teammates.

It made Troy mad. Reed was such an arrogant jerk, but Seth said Troy had to trust the decision, so he would try.

 

After one play, when the defensive end let the scout team runner get outside him and gain seven yards up the sideline, Reed yelled at his own defensive player, “Let's go! You think that's good enough? It's not!”

“Reed!” Seth shouted, but then marched across the field to where Reed was to give him a friendly pat on the back and talk in a cheerful undertone. “You're the captain, not the coach. I'll let you know when my job is up for grabs. Okay?”

Reed grinned at Seth and returned to the huddle.

The camaraderie between them made Troy want to puke. After a couple of dozen or so more plays, the team took a water break and then Seth gathered them together again.

“Okay, the starting offense is going to look a little different today.” Seth looked down at his clipboard. “Chuku, you take the Z, you're our fastest guy and the outside receiver on the strong side.”

“Now, Coach . . .” Chuku held up both hands and paced a bit. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but the Z is like Andre Johnson and Randy Moss and . . . well, Jerry Rice, too, right! I mean, Z is the
go-to
guy, right?”

Seth blinked at Chuku, then couldn't contain himself. He grinned and nodded. “Yup, that's you, Chuku. The go-to guy.”

“I just love this game, Coach.” Chuku shook his head. “And the nice thing about it is, this game loves me.”

Seth chuckled and turned back to the rest of the team. “Levi, you're the X, outside receiver on the weak side. Spencer is the Y, inside Chuku in the slot. Galbato, I want you at right tackle. The rest of the line stays how it's been, with Molnar and Dranzack at guards, Big Nick Lee at center, and Chance at left tackle.”

Seth looked at Troy, then at Grant Reed. Troy's stomach clenched. He knew what was coming and he knew it wasn't going to be pretty.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

“TROY, YOU TAKE Q.”
Seth held up his hands, anticipating problems. “I know Reed has been Q. He's maybe our best defensive player, and now he's a team captain, but Coach Sindoni keeps track of everything everyone does at that position, every completion, interception, touchdown, fumble, everything. It's simple. He graded them out and Troy was clearly the top performer.”

Seth glared at Reed, as if to remind him of the deal Troy knew he'd made in making Reed a captain. Reed bit his lip and nodded.

“Now, the rest of you guys.” Seth looked around. “Before you get yourselves worked up, I know this'll be the youngest high school offense in the country, but it'll also be the fastest, and that's how we're going to turn this thing around. I want the offense lightning fast. It's like putting a featherweight up against a heavyweight, but if the featherweight is a Golden Gloves and the heavyweight is a slob, you bet the featherweight is gonna knock him out cold, and that's what we're gonna do. We gotta save our mauling and brawling for when we're on defense. That's how you win games—defense. On offense, like the great Ali said, we float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.”

Seth glared at the team and he raised his voice. “Don't you doubt me, not
any
of you.”

Troy snuck a look at Reed, who scowled back and clamped down tight on his mouthpiece.

“Listen to what I'm saying,” Seth said. “We are going to be champions. Bring it in, ‘champions' on three, and then give me that first offense with a scout D.”

The team gathered around Seth, holding up their helmets in a cluster above their heads.

“One, two, three . . .”

“CHAMPIONS!”

Players flooded to their positions on the field, Troy in the center of the first-team huddle. He looked around at the older kids, the big linemen with their bulging muscles.

Chance Bryant—who was both huge and in need of a shave—stuck out a hand. Troy took it.

“You're our QB,” Chance said. “I don't care if you wear diapers, you better believe we got your back. On the field
and
off, like I said before.”

Troy wanted to ask why Chance thought he might need anyone to watch his back off the field. Chance was staring at Troy, waiting for some response. So Troy thanked the older player and tried not to sound scared.

When Galbato stuck out his hand as well, Troy was even more surprised. The enormous player was one of the ones right in there grinning and laughing with Reed and Tomkins whenever they had a baby joke going. Maybe being elevated to the starting team himself gave the big guy a new appreciation for Troy.

As they jogged out onto the field to form the huddle, Chuku grabbed Troy's face mask, pulling him close.

“This is it, bro. It's you and me, the Killer Kombo. This is
our
team. You feel it?”

Troy felt a surge of joy at the sound of Chuku's words. He laughed out loud. “I know. It
is
our team!”

As they ran through the script of plays, Troy got more and more comfortable with his new status. He began marching the offense up and down the field with precision and efficiency, completing nearly every pass and carrying out fakes that stumped the defense.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

THAT NIGHT THE LOCKER
room buzzed with excitement, and Troy knew the older players believed the things Seth had told them. Confidence added a glimmer to their eyes, and, except for Grant Reed, most of them treated Troy like a lucky horseshoe, not quite part of them but something they appreciated even if they didn't completely understand how it worked.

Troy and Chuku said their good-byes and walked out into the evening air. They sat around in the bleachers waiting for Seth to finish meeting with his coaches so they could get into the truck and head for home.

Troy's stomach was rumbling by the time Seth appeared, giving them both a thumbs-up.

“You looked great. Honestly? We are gonna beat these guys!”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

TATE WASN'T GOING TO
get to see Summit's opening game.

This upset Troy, but he certainly understood. Tate's mom had purchased a ticket for her to fly out to San Diego so that she could visit her father in the hospital over the weekend.

After school on Friday, Chuku's dad picked him up from school to have a special pregame meal of grits, eggs, and collard greens doused in hot sauce, something his father did before his own games. Troy waved good-bye, then got into his mom's car to help drop Tate off at the airport.

Troy's mom checked Tate's bag for her and got her ticket at the curbside check-in. Troy stood with Tate, watching, nervous about the first game of the season.

“You sure you're ready?” Tate asked him in a low voice.

“Of course.” Troy grinned and hugged her. “Good luck with your dad.”

“He'll be okay. He has to be.”

After Tate was safely with the JetBlue representative who would help her get to the gate, Troy and his mom got into the car and pulled away. His mom kept both hands on the wheel and she sighed heavily. “You sure have to be thankful for what you've got.”

“Is her dad going to be okay?” Troy asked. “Tate thinks so.”

His mom glanced at him. “They really don't know, Troy. Say a prayer, though.”

Troy did that, then turned his mind to the night ahead. As much as he tried to put football into perspective with something like Tate's father and the accident, he just couldn't make himself feel as if the game they were going to play was any less important. He had so much hope riding on Summit's football season that it felt like a life-or-death situation.

His mom left him outside the locker room and disappeared into the stands. Troy saw Chuku coming and waited so they could go in together.

They bumped fists. “How were the eggs and grits?”

“Dawg, you don't know what you're
miss
ing. My mouth's on fire and I'm about to do the same thing to that football field.” Chuku pointed toward the field. “Watch out, I'll be
burning
it up.”

“Nothing like a little confidence,” Troy said.

“Nothing like a
lot
.”

Together, they changed and came out with the team. A warm breeze blew across the field. The sun nestled down into the treetops, promising night and mosquitoes. Fans started to fill the bleachers and two different television crews spilled out of their trucks and down onto the sidelines. People wanted to see if Seth Halloway and Troy White were for real.

Troy was surprised when he saw Ty and Thane up in the stands. Part of him was proud that his All-Pro cousin would come to the opening game, but Troy still resented Thane. He knew if they lost tonight, it could be—in part—because of Thane. But when Troy saw them looking his way, he could only wave and smile because he sure wasn't going to let them know how much it bothered him. It made him even hungrier to do well, to show them both that Troy and Seth didn't even need them to win.

They waved back, and that's when Troy saw Mr. Bryant talking to the tall man Troy had seen on the field the day he arrived. The man wore a suit, which was a strange way to dress for a Friday night football game, but Troy didn't give it a second thought. His mind was churning with all the excitement of the game.

Troy was warming up with the rest of the team when the Lawton bus arrived. The Lawton players marched like a small army down onto the field in their white uniforms. Lawton circled the field, then ran in two columns straight through the Summit team as they were stretching their hamstrings.

Seth called Summit into a big huddle after the warm-ups. His red face twitched and twisted with rage. “Did you guys see that? They ran right through your warm-up? That's like spitting in your
face.
”

One of the older players in the back spoke up. “They always do that, Coach.”

“Not anymore they don't,” Seth snarled. “Not after tonight. They run through our warm-up? We are gonna run through their world. We are gonna stomp them so hard they'll be wearing their butts for hats. Now get in here and give me three wins because that's what we are going to do. It's a new day and it starts here, tonight.”

CHAPTER FIFTY

THE TEAM PUT THEIR
fists in. Troy looked over at Chuku's face. His eyes were crazed and his mouth a sneer.

Seth shouted, “One, two, three . . .”

“WIN! WIN! WIN!”

They broke off and finished their pregame routine, throwing, catching, blocking, form tackling, and finally running through a couple of practice plays. Troy could barely catch his breath. He'd played in big games before, but that was with a bunch of
kids.
Surrounding him now were monster-sized players, some who could bench-press three hundred pounds, some with breath and body odor like ogres. Nothing felt like this. On the other end of the field, the Lawton team chanted in perfect time. They not only looked like an army, they sounded like one.

While Reed ran a couple of plays with the second-team offense, Troy studied the opposition. Someone brushed up alongside him.

“They sure make a lot of noise.” It was Chuku, also staring at their opponents.

“Big, too.” Troy couldn't help marveling at the size of the Lawton defensive line.

“I got a little noise for them.” Chuku turned his backside toward the other team and let one rip.

Troy giggled, but with his nerves jangled as they were it didn't make him feel any better. After the national anthem, Chance Bryant and Reed went out for the coin toss. Summit won. Troy's heart rammed up into his throat and struggled like a rat caught in a trap to spring free. They'd be on offense to start the game. Troy looked over at Coach Sindoni, who gave him a thumbs-up. The kickoff team surrounded Seth. They held their hands up high and chanted: “WIN! WIN! WIN!” With a single cry, the cluster broke apart and they flooded the field.

Chuku returned the kickoff, but got only ten yards before a group of Lawton players buried him. Chuku bounced up out of the pile and swung a fist in the air. Troy and the offense swarmed onto the field. Galbato and Bryant flanked him like two towers and they huddled up.

Chuku wedged into the huddle and hooted at them all. “Come on! Let's get these bums!”

Troy felt a strange calm wash over him. He called the play, a rollout pass, deep to Chuku. For an instant, he wished for Ty, knowing that with two speedy receivers, the choice of where to throw would be so easy. He pushed that from his mind, broke the huddle, and approached the line. The noseguard looked up at Troy with a red sweaty face, growled, and spit. He made Big Nick Lee look not so big. Troy glanced out at the defensive ends. They were massive, and he knew they'd be gunning for him, one on one side, one on the other.

“Hey!” The shout came from one of the Lawton linebackers. Troy couldn't even be sure which one. “You guys got an
eighth grader
playing quarterback! You stink, Summit!”

Troy took the snap and started to roll. His line crumbled in front of him. Chuku shot down the field. The safety rolled over the top, double-teaming Chuku, so Troy had to wait. Ty flashed through his mind—he could be running
free
if only he were on the other side. A whisper of sickness passed through Troy at the image of his speedy cousin just sitting in the stands, watching. Useless.

Before Troy could launch the ball, the right defensive end pummeled him into the turf. As the pile cleared, Galbato reached down with a giant mitt and helped him to his feet. The big man clapped Troy on the back. “We'll get them. That one was on us, Troy. That was on us.”

Galbato pounded his own chest with a fist.

Before Troy could even catch his breath, Coach Sindoni signaled the next play from the sideline. It was a mirror image of the first play, only running it to the other side so that Levi was running deep. If Coach Sindoni was right, then the safety would roll over the top of Levi, and Chuku would be open on the back side of the play.

“Look for Chuku!” Coach Sindoni shouted through cupped hands.

Troy gave a nod and dipped into the huddle, knelt, and looked up at Chuku. “You're gonna be open on the post.”

“Watch me walk in backward.” Chuku showed off his brilliant smile. “Killer Kombo.”

“Okay, same play, going left this time.” Troy glared at Chance, his left tackle, not a boy but a young man four years his senior and nearly a hundred pounds bigger. “You get that guy, you hear me? Don't miss him, Chance. I need four seconds, that's it. Can you give me four?”

Troy surprised himself with the tone of his voice, and he could tell by the looks on his linemen's faces that he had surprised them as well.

Chance grunted. “I got him.”

Troy broke the huddle and approached the line. The defenders were pointing at him and jeering.

“Someone change that kid's diapers, will you?” The noseguard chortled.

“Coming for you again!” the Lawton defender who'd pummeled him shouted from his spot on the end.

“Not if I get him first!” the other end shouted. “Gonna send that little boy home to his momma!”

Troy ignored them. He checked the secondary. He saw cover three and knew it meant something. It didn't matter. It was a simple play—Levi up the sideline to draw off the free safety, Chuku cutting into the post from the back side. Simple. He wished it were Ty—that would make the play so much more certain—but Levi would have to do.

Troy shouted out the cadence and took the snap. He spun and rolled left. The line bent but didn't break. No one in his face, but the left end had Chance Bryant on his heels, lifting him and running him back into the backfield. Troy head-faked outside, then ducked back inside his tackle. Chance ran the end past him. Troy kept going toward the sideline. He stopped suddenly, set his feet, pump-faked to Levi, then launched the ball into the post, trusting Chuku to be there.

As the ball left his hand, the end grabbed him from behind and swung him into the air.

The world spun.

In that fraction of a moment, Troy knew something bad was about to happen, and he thought of Ty again.

Just sitting there.