At the forefront was Kentavious Rice Jr., even without knowing what he looked like, no other freshman could carry themselves with such a calm poise. He wore an impeccable white suit, tailor-made of course, with a gold shirt underneath. Gold dangled from his neck. Diamonds glittered along the length of the chain. A diamond-encrusted gold watch rested heavily on his wrist. Everything about him drew as much attention as possible, and he'd captured the entire room.
Two well-dressed men flanked him, completing the triangle that led the Longhorns into the room. One was most likely the team's Head Coach. The other couldn't be anyone but Kentavious Senior.
They had the same square jaw and golden eyes. Senior's gleamed as brightly as their jewellery, whilst Junior's were dull and half-lidded. Even if Senior's eyes were set in a round, cheery face, constantly pulled into a wide grin, and Junior's were perched just above high cheekbones, they were distinct enough to link the two together forever.
Junior strode into the room as if it were empty, completely unfazed by everyone watching his every move. He didn't feel the weight. If anything, he looked bored.
People finally snapped out of their stupor and rushed towards him. Cameras flashed as voices once again filled the room, questions piling atop one another like a car crash. Even if Junior had been paying attention, all the words blended together into an unrecognisable cacophony.
Senior stepped in between them, shielding Junior from the surge of bodies. His disarming smile was still there. It was obvious he was used to such attention and knew how to handle a horde like that. 'Please, I'll be more than happy to answer whatever questions you have for my son.'
Junior altered his course and used the space his father had taken to slip away towards the drinks table. Whilst the scouts and reporters remained in place, questioning Senior, a second surge followed Junior, this one full of players. The rest of the Longhorns ignored both Senior and Junior. Some looked grateful, others disdainful as they stalked towards the opposite side of the room, ignored by all.
Ty's eyes stayed locked on Junior as he tuned out the barrage of questions levied towards Senior. "So this is Kentavious Rice? The best Receiver in the nation?"
Even his disinterested, casual gait was smooth yet reminded Ty of a loaded spring. He wondered how fast that spring could explode, how fast Kentavious could change his pace, how fast he could turn, how forceful he could become. Kentavious looked like the perfect Receiver already. Six feet tall, with a lengthy frame that was slim but not skinny; he looked much older than the freshman he was.
Ty moved unconsciously, wanting a closer look, wanting to compare himself to the supposed best freshman. A wall of players got in his way. He hissed and backed away from the sudden crowd, running into someone. He looked back; the boy hadn't even reacted to Ty stepping on the back of their leg. It was the Samoan from the hotel, staring down JJ, cutting him off from Ty.
The room filled with noise again, certain phrases sticking out from the jumble—'I'm the best.' 'I'll lock you up.' 'Daddy's boy.' 'Overrated.'
Ty grunted and faced the crowd, pushing through it towards the source of the noise, towards Kentavious. He didn't get far before running into a wall. More like a tower than a wall, actually.
The boy was even taller than Stephen, skinnier too, like a piece of taffy that'd been stretched too far. A real beanstalk with a dopey face and a disgusting dirty blond mullet.
The beanstalk grinned as he stared down at Ty, crouching and bending over so they were eye-to-eye. 'Did somebody lose their little brother? What ya doing out here, buddy?'
'I didn't know they let insects in here. Move, stick bug.'
The boy grinned and stood back up, reaching his full height. Ty's jaw clenched as he had to crane his neck to keep his eyes on the boy's face. Beanstalk raised his hand, stretching towards the ceiling. It looked as if he could dunk without leaving the ground. Ty shook his head. Beanstalk wasn't THAT tall; he just looked like a mountain amongst men and boys.
'I can't wait 'til we play each other, Supernova.'
"Supernova?" Ty couldn't focus on the strange name long. Beanstalk palmed his head like a basketball. Ty smacked the hand aside, glaring up at Beanstalk, who only laughed, slipping away into the crowd.
Ty moved to follow, but some small fry got in his way, spouting nonsense like, 'I'm gonna beat you!'
'Fuck off!' Ty snapped, pushing them aside, trying to chase Beanstalk through the mass of bodies, but that giant fuck slithered through them like a snake, only drawing further away. A hand clasped Ty's shoulder as if a pair of talons had sunk into him.
Ty whirled, fist clenched, but held his hand back as he stared into the hardened eyes glaring down at him—everyone was taller than him, but at least this one wasn't a giant. It wasn't the small fry. This one was another big fish; Ty could tell by the eyes. Those eyes were ice cold, and the young man behind them was dangerous.
Ty shrugged off the hand, turning to fully face the newcomer. 'Who the fuck are you?' Ty asked.
'The best Receiver in this room,' Richaun answered.
'That's funny. I thought Kentavious was.' Ty pointed with a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of Kentavious, though he'd been swallowed by his swarming challengers and rivals.
Richaun's lip curled up, revealing sharp teeth not unlike Ty's own; fire blazed within Richaun's icy gaze. 'Bullshit. He ain't the best. That's just what his daddy is paying everyone to say.'
'But you think you're the best.'
'I KNOW I'm the best. And I'm gonna prove it.'
Ty couldn't help but smile. 'How will you do that?'
'A lot of niggas say you the best Corner. So after I embarrass you and your boys, everyone will know I'm number one.'
Ty laughed, and Richaun's scowl deepened. People finally recognised his greatness … in part at least, but they didn't have the full picture. Maybe he could enlighten this dumbass Receiver. 'You divas are all the same. You think you're hot shit. It doesn't matter which one of you is the best. But I've heard of him; I don't know shit about you.'
'I don't need the media to gas me up. My game speaks for itself, and after I beat yo ass, everybody'll know that Richaun Howard is the best there is.'
'Richaun.' Ty nodded. 'You see, there's one thing wrong with that plan.'
'Oh yeah?'
'Maybe you are better than that guy. But it doesn't matter, you're not better than me. No one is. And when you face me, the same thing will happen to you and Kentavious—I'll collar you and walk you like a dog.'
Richaun grabbed Ty's shirt, fist cocked back. A voice boomed across the room, halting Richaun's punch. He slowly lowered his hand.
'Ladies and gentlemen, boys and boys! May I have your attention, please?' All eyes turned toward the stage. A man stood behind a microphone. His tuxedo bulged around his girth, barely containing his rotund belly. A moustache spread over his thick lips, the ends curling in front of his round, rosy cheeks. Spotlights shone on him, highlighting his pinkish skin, gleaming with sweat. He was like a fat, overgrown baby. 'Now that we're all gathered here, let us waste no time. It's what you're all waiting for, I'm sure, but allow me to announce to you, the All-American Twenty-Two.' He left room for applause, of which there was none, then cleared his throat before continuing. 'Uh, s-starting with the offence.'
Richaun shoved Ty aside, turning his focus to the stage. Ty glared at him, etching him into his mind. He wondered what kind of Receiver Richaun was, how he played. It didn't matter really; no matter how he played, Ty would destroy him. He'd already promised himself.
All attention had now turned to the stage, and most of the chatter had died. The man on stage had a smug little grin on his fat face, enjoying being the centre of attention.
'Without further ado, let me welcome on stage the number one high-school athlete in the world, and our All-American Quarterback, Colby Jenkins of the South Miami Cobras.'
Richaun scoffed next to Ty, and polite applause filled the room. An expected call-up, yet Richaun was annoyed by it. Ty tucked that bit of info away. Colby approached the stage and took his place on it, shaking hands with the announcer.
'Next, we have someone who I personally believe to be the most exciting young prospect, and I'm sure you do too.' The man cleared his throat, pausing and allowing some excited questions to build. 'Give it up for our first All-American Wide Receiver, hailing from the Gordon Longhorns, Kentavious "Skywalker" Rice Junior!'
The applause was louder this time, though under it, Ty could hear Richaun's teeth grinding. They watched as the crowd parted and Skywalker waltzed through. He took his place on stage, next to Colby, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Colby looked him up and down.
The announcements continued, though with much less fanfare than Skywalker had received. To Richaun's chagrin, instead of filling out the rest of the Receivers, the announcements went through all the Offensive Linemen, two of whom came from the same school as Colby, and another two from Gordon along with Kentavious.
The Running Back was a representative from Hawaii, a rhino of a boy, though with a cheerful baby face. Then there was the TE. 'Welcome from Indiana, representing the Westfield Shamrocks, Jeremiah Byrd.'
Beanstalk—Jeremiah—stood head and shoulders above just about everyone. People were eager to get out of his way as he swayed across the room and up to the stage, grinning and waving. He loomed over everyone on stage, smirking down at Kentavious, who looked dead ahead.
Finally, there were only two spots remaining, two spots for Receivers, unless there was a curveball and the last spot went to a Fullback, which Ty thought unlikely.
Richaun's anger had simmered until it reached a boiling point. The disrespect thrown his way had him fuming, his rage focused on one point, eyes locked on Kentavious Rice.
'Rounding out the Wide Receivers, please welcome Richaun Howard of the South Miami Cobras.'
Richaun stalked onto the stage quickly, almost yanking the man's arm out of its socket as he shook it. He pushed next to Kentavious when taking his place on stage, glaring at the boy who continued to ignore everyone surrounding him. It was like he was in a different world.
The announcer rubbed his shoulder as he turned back to the mic, letting out an awkward chuckle. 'A-And our final member of the offence, please welcome Elliot Wall of the Neville Tigers.'
A boy made his way onto the stage. He had broad shoulders and a sturdy frame. But what stood out were his bald, round head, and the large ears jutting out from it like they were about to start flapping. He shook hands with the announcer, then bowed to him, hands pressed together as if in prayer. Bracelets of beads were wrapped around both of his wrists. He bowed to each of his fellow "All-Americans", and even to the crowd before settling into place.
The announcer chuckled nervously again and dabbed some sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief—a fruitless endeavour as new sweat trickled down his face almost immediately after. 'Now, uh, here we have them, your All-American offence for the twenty-twenty-two season.'
There was another round of applause, as well as dozens of bright flashes from cameras. Ty scanned the Receivers—Kentavious was dead-pan, one could imagine he was nothing but a hollow puppet; Richaun was still trying to drill holes in the side of Kentavious's head with nothing but his glare; Jeremiah stood proud as a peacock, stretching his neck to appear even taller; and Elliot beamed with a friendly smile, hands still pressed together, though now he seemed to roll the beads in his fingers.
They all looked the part, Elliot least of all perhaps, but Ty wouldn't know which of them was the strongest until he faced them on the field. "I'll beat them all, one-by-one."
'The offence will remain on the stage, and now we'll call up the defence,' the announcer said. He cleared his throat again, smiling. 'First and foremost, allow me to welcome to the stage, the number one defensive player in the nation …'
Ty's attention snapped back to the man. Everything else faded from existence. It was just the man and the spotlight. Nothing else moved or breathed, not even Ty's own heart.
'Your first All-American Cornerback, the second star of the freshman class, representing California's Dominguez Dons, give it up for Tyrese "Supernova" Samuels!'
Silence ruled the room. Even Ty stood, unbelieving. Finally. He couldn't tell if he was dreaming, and he didn't dare move lest he shatter the illusion.
'LET'S GO TY!'
It was JJ's voice that snapped Ty back to reality. Donte echoed the cry, then Stephen. Cole, Cameron, Chris. The whole team cheered for him, and soon applause rained down. The crowd parted for Ty, and he walked towards the stage. Just before the steps, he passed Deshaun, who smiled at him and extended a fist. Ty grinned back, bumped fists, and then stepped on stage.
He shook hands with the announcer, soaked in the applause, and then stepped back into place as the next player was called on stage. Ty looked across at the others. A three-foot gap separated him and the offensive lineup. Most gave him a cursory glance, Richaun glared and Jeremiah sneered. Elliot bowed. And most shocking of all, Kentavious met his eyes.
Ty stared back, fire swimming in his dark glare. He adjusted his necklace, making the lock more prominent. As the announcements rolled on, Ty never took his eyes off Kentavious, even after Kentavious looked away.
Ty kept his face hard as a rock, eyes sharp as blades … but confusion ate away at him. Why had Kentavious looked so sad?