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.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “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.

  David came storming down the hall, pushing through the players to make his way to the list. His eyes scanned the sheet—his name was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t make the cut. But before his eyes left the paper, he quickly noticed the man standing next to him—Gabriel was on the list.

  He turned to Gabriel and began to raise his hand as if to offer it to him.

  “Well—well—well, if it isn’t the failure. You’ve got balls to show up here after the monumental failure of your trial. I guess there isn’t a man of your house after all. You wore your uncle’s number—a number that he made history with—and you brought shame and disgrace upon it and your family name. If I was you, I would run and hide under a rock,” Harry noted as he turned, tapping his teammates while smiling from cheek to cheek.

  “That’s enough, Harry—you’ve gone too far this time. Kicking a man while he’s down—that’s what cowards do. That doesn’t make you a man, so if we’re talking about being a man—act like one,” shouted Gabriel toward Harry.

  “What did you just say—you little—” But before Harry could finish, David intervened.

  “Thanks, Gabriel, but I don’t need anyone to defend me. Harry’s right—I did let the number down. I didn’t make the cut. I was simply not good enough. So yeah, I did bring shame and disgrace to the number my uncle made legendary.”

  He hung his head low before uttering his final words.

  “So I own that—get in the lab and come back stronger next year and be undeniable.”

  “Are you serious? Haven’t you brought enough shame upon your family—upon yourself? You’re going to come back next year and bring more? Have some respect for yourself, kid, and just accept it—you’re not good enough. You never were and never will be,” Harry’s tone was menacing, his words piercing deeper than any dagger could.

  He knew what he was doing—and his mission was accomplished.

  David stood there broken—a shell of the person he once was—as Harry turned his back, laughing with his boys like it was just another regular day.

  “No—no way. I can’t be a part of something like this—part of a team where its captain has no remorse,” said Gabriel as he stormed right into Coach Kemp’s office and slammed the door shut behind him.

  Coach Kemp jumped up in his seat. The slam from the door startled him, and he certainly wasn’t expecting company. As Coach Kemp looked over at Gabriel, he could see the anger in his eyes.

  “Gabriel, what’s got you so mad, son? Didn’t you see the notice board—you made the team.”

  “I saw—but I’m going to have to kindly reject my place on this team, Coach.”

  “Now, Gabriel, don’t go and make any hasty feelings on temporary emotions,” said Coach Kemp.

  “This isn’t some rash, on-the-fly decision, Coach. I can’t be a part of a team where the leader is willing to tear down and berate his teammates. And I’m not stupid enough to tell you to get rid of Harry or give you an ultimatum between us—because I know that decision to keep him isn’t a decision you can make. So I’m doing the best thing for everyone and stepping away,” said Gabriel.

  “Well, I can see there isn’t anything I can do to change your mind. And while the team could do with your services, I understand your decision and—I respect your decision, Gabriel. If you ever change your mind, my door is always open for a talent like yourself,” said Coach Kemp.

  “Thank you, Coach,” said Gabriel as he turned to walk out of the coach’s office.

  “Oh, and Gabriel—do me a favor: let David know he’s on the team.”

  “I will, Coach,” said Gabriel as he walked out of the office, shutting the door behind him.

  As Gabriel walked through the players, he stopped momentarily at David’s side.

  “Coach Kemp wanted me to let you know the spot on the team’s yours,” said Gabriel with a stone face.

  “Listen here, Gabriel—I don’t need your charity. I can get on this team on my own merits,” David said as he squeezed the strap of his bag tightly.

  “I didn’t do this for you, David—I did this for myself. I could never be a part of a team where the captain can hit someone so low and not even bat an eyelid. As they say—you become more like the people you’re around. I don’t want to be anything like him,” said Gabriel, pointing toward Harry.

  “Good riddance to a rotten apple that should have never been part of the crop,” laughed Harry as he waved goodbye at Gabriel and put his arm around David. “Now you have a golden ticket to the promised land. With me at the wheel, I’ll turn you into a high-ranking recruit. All you have to do is listen to everything I say and you’ll be A-OK. Boys—bring him a jacket now!” shouted Harry as he clicked his fingers.

  In mere seconds, a new Jesovalt football team jacket made its way to the front like a baton in a relay race. David grabbed hold of the jacket, staring at it as if it had hypnotised him.

  He worked his ass off for this moment, but as he held onto the jacket and stared at his uncle’s number, he felt disappointed—not pride. A feat that was given, not earned, and the number he was so proud to don felt like a burden, not a privilege.

  “Go on—take it,” Harry insisted as he pushed the jacket forward.

  David took the jacket and put it on.

  “Fits like a glove, doesn’t it?” Harry grinned sinisterly, sealing the deal and claiming another poor soul for his pack.

  Gabriel took one last look at the team—celebrating their new member, David—and the thought cut through him like glass: That should have been me.

  He turned away, walking beside Jai-Lee, but each step felt heavier, as if his dreams were chained to his ankles, dragging behind him. They weren’t gone yet, but they were slipping—turning into something distant, unreachable. He had chosen to walk away from football, but making it his choice didn’t make it hurt any less.

  It was a dagger lodged deep in his chest, and no matter how hard he pulled, it wouldn’t budge.

  Some wounds healed—while others you simply learned to live with. This was one of them.