The school halls were quiet. The bell had finished ringing, and students were in class, ready to begin their day—that is, until Gabriel and Jai-Lee turned the corner and headed down the corridor to their class. Standing there, hovered over the announcement board outside the coach's office, were members of the football team talking amongst each other. Their faces portrayed anything but excitement.
Gabriel paused for a moment, taking in each member's expression.
"Hold on—it couldn't be… it is… it's Monday—the trial results are out already! Argh, man, how could I forget?" Gabriel said, tapping the top of his head while squinting his eye in disappointment.
"But hold on… their faces don't look happy. Why don't their faces look happy?" Gabriel questioned, and then—pause—it dawned on him. There could only be one reason why Harry and his boys would be unhappy.
"Did I actually do it? Did I make it?" Gabriel asked, questioning himself.
But as he took a step forward, his legs began to feel heavy. He took another step and came to a standstill. His senses kicked into overdrive as he overheard some of the members of the team.
"You've got to be kidding me… him? Why would coach pick him?" said Daniel as he hung his head low.
"I guess coach made the best decision for the team," said Jeremy as he held his head high.
With each word, Gabriel's heart started to beat faster and faster.
"Did coach pick me? Did I actually make it in something for once?" Gabriel questioned as he started to daydream about what it was like to play on the team.
He imagined weaving in and out of defenders, the turf beneath his cleats spitting up dirt as the home crowd thundered his name. The scoreboard showed ten seconds left, championship game on the line.
Mike: "Gabriel! Gabriel! The crowd is on their feet, John! Jesovalt High—championship game—and we are tied at thirty-five apiece! This is uncharted territory for Jesovalt High School!"
John: "I hear you, Mike, but here's the difference this year—they've got the X-factor. Number nine, Gabriel—a kid who came out of nowhere and set the high school game on fire. Scouts have been tearing up their old notes just to get eyes on him this season."
Mike: "And can you blame them? He's smashed record after record and taken this team to heights no one—let's be honest, not you, not me, not anyone watching—thought possible twelve months ago. The kid deserves every bit of the spotlight."
John: "Hold on, Mike—the ball is live. Jesovalt's going for it! Tied game, ten seconds left… if they pull this off, this will be legendary—but if they take their shot and miss, this will just be another fairytale story that never got its happily ever after."
The stadium in his mind fell dead silent. Breath held. Eyes locked. He and Harry exchanged one quick nod—rivals united for a single purpose: to bring it home.
The ball snapped into Harry's hands, but the defense didn't budge. They knew exactly who the ball was going to—Gabriel. Their eyes never left him, blocking off each hole so there was no way for him to break through on one of his meaty runs.
A smile began to tug on Harry's lips—"They bought it."
Gabriel slipped out to the side and began to bomb it down the field. As the defense realized, their mouths fell open—jaws hanging low. It was too late to react—Harry flung the ball downfield.
The crowd rose; not a single person in the stadium was seated. The ball spiraled in the air, and all the opposition could do was follow it with their eyes. Gabriel ran under control—to him, the ball moved in slow motion. He could hear the different patterns of heartbeats in the stadium, their heavy breathing, and the weight of anticipation over whether or not he was going to catch it.
Gabriel dived in the air—more for theatrics than for the difficulty of the catch—and landed in the end zone. The crowd was silent for a moment, then it was as if someone took a pin to a balloon and let out all the screams of joy.
The clock hit zero and the game was over. They did it—Jesovalt High did it. They were national champions.
The entire crowd rushed onto the field, picking Gabriel into the air, throwing him up and down as they cheered his name.
"I actually did it—we're champions!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.
"You sure did, young man—you sure did," Joy acknowledged as he shuffled his papers with a smile on his face.
"Gabe! Gabe!" shouted Marcus as he shook Gabriel's shoulders, snapping him out of his daydream.
"Argh, man, I was in a world of my own for a second," said Gabriel as he scratched the back of his neck.
"Tell me about it—you were cheering, 'I did it—I actually did it,'" Marcus said with a huge smile on his face.
Man, he actually heard that… I wonder if any of the other guys heard me—how embarrassing, Gabriel thought to himself as he took a deep breath.
"Don't worry about it too much, Gabe. We all get lost in the sauce from time to time. You aren't the first person to daydream about having their moment on the big stage. I've been there far more times than I would like to admit," Marcus acknowledged as he ushered Gabriel forward.
As the pair walked toward the notice board, parting the sea of football players in front of it, Gabriel scanned the list of names on the team. His eyes went down—name after name—until he saw his name on the list.
Gabriel stood there, eyes and mouth wide in disbelief.
"Yeah, man, that's right, Gabe—you made it, man. You're officially a member of the team now—part of the brotherhood. So without further ado, welcome to the team, man," Marcus patted his new teammate on the chest and let him soak in the good news.