Free Web NovelChapter 23: Chapter 23 - Practice
Zac stopped near the corner.
He could see part of the gym through the open doors. Cheerleaders moved across the mats in clean lines, hair tied back, uniforms traded for practice clothes. The room was bright, loud, and already full of attitude.
Roxie stood near the front with a clipboard under one arm.
"Again," she said. "You’re late on three."
The girls reset fast.
They just moved because Roxie told them to.
She looked different than the girl he was with that night.
The pantry. The creek path. Raven’s Point. His jacket around her shoulders. Her voice when she told him to keep his mouth shut. Her laugh in his car when they pulled away from the headlights like they had actually done something wrong.
It should not have made him feel special.
It did anyway.
That was stupid.
It was also hard to ignore.
Because Roxie Jones spent the whole school day acting like nobody could touch her, and Zac understood that more than he wanted to.
Nobody got close unless she let them.
Zac had gotten close by accident.
Now he could not stop looking.
"Damn," Mason said from behind him. "He’s locked in." freeωebnovēl.c૦m
A couple guys laughed.
"Prescott," another player said. "Blink twice if the cheer captain stole your soul."
More laughter broke out near the doors.
Coach Miller looked sharply at them like a bear guarding his cubs.
Everyone shut up.
Zac did not turn around.
Roxie’s voice cut through the gym again. "From the top. Clean this time."
Zac watched her lift one hand, and the whole line reset.
A shoulder bumped his.
Dylan.
He followed Zac’s line of sight toward the gym.
Then he looked back at Zac.
Zac moved first. "Watch your mouth."
"Man, you’re really protective of nothing."
Zac turned his head slowly.
Dylan’s smile slipped a little.
"Prescott!" Coach Miller’s voice cracked down the hall.
Zac looked toward the double doors.
Coach Hayes stood by the exit to the field, whistle at his neck and clipboard under one arm. "You planning to practice with us or audition for cheer?"
The football players near the doors burst out laughing.
Someone yelled, "Let him wear the skirt!"
Another shouted, "Prescott’s got spirit!"
Kyle, standing near the doors with his helmet hooked under one arm, grinned. "He already got the cheer captain!"
More laughter.
Zac’s jaw tightened.
He gave them a look as he walked toward the field. "Keep talking and I’ll make sure every route you run today is a suicide route."
"Coach, he’s threatening us!" Mason called.
The guys laughed again, but softer this time.
Zac grabbed his helmet from the bench near the door and jogged onto the field.
The team looked worse once they got outside.
Zac noticed in five seconds.
Sloppy feet. Slow line. Too much talking. Mason laughing at something stupid. Two freshmen shoving each other near the water cooler like they had not just watched Coach tear them apart on film.
Idiots.
Zac pulled his helmet on. "Offense. Now."
The center tossed him the ball. "Somebody’s cranky."
"You false started twice on film."
"Damn, bro. Good morning to you too."
A few guys laughed.
Zac didn’t.
He was tired of laughing through bad reps. Tired of guys wanting game-night attention but acting allergic to work before seven in the morning. Tired of everyone looking at him when things went wrong, then acting shocked when he expected them to do their jobs.
Zac checked the formation on the line-up and pointed at Kyle. "If they move inside, that’s yours."
Kyle barely looked at him. "I know."
Zac just stared at him.
The play started.
It died fast.
Mason cut too wide. The line moved late. Kyle blocked the wrong guy, and a defender came straight through the middle.
Zac threw the ball away before anyone touched him.
Coach Hayes blew the whistle. "Again."
Zac turned to Kyle. "That was you."
Kyle pulled out his mouthguard. "I had outside."
"They moved."
"Then say it louder."
The field went quiet in that annoying fake way, with everyone suddenly fixing gloves and pretending they weren’t listening.
Zac stared at him, hard. "Use your eyes."
Kyle’s face changed. "Use your arm."
A couple players reacted under their breath.
Zac stepped closer before he thought better of it.
Coach Hayes cut in fast. "You two want to get a room, or do you want to practice?"
Someone laughed and shut up fast when Coach looked over.
Coach pointed at Kyle. "You miss that block Friday, the Bears hit your quarterback. That’s it."
Then he looked at Zac.
Zac nodded once. "Yes, sir."
Kyle shoved his mouthguard back in.
They ran it again.
Coach blew the whistle. "Bring it in."
The team dragged itself to midfield.
Coach looked around the huddle. "Bears on Friday. Eagles in two weeks. Play lazy against one, you won’t survive the other."
The guys went quiet.
His team.
His headache.
His temper kicked again, hot and fast, but he swallowed it.
Coach Hayes blew the whistle. "Locker room. Move."
The guys broke apart, loud again the second they were free. Someone blamed the center’s hands. Someone whipped a towel. One freshman asked if they had time to buy breakfast and got called a dumbass by three people at once.
Zac walked through them with his helmet under one arm.
Then the first bell rang.
He stepped out of the locker room after a shower with the team behind him.
Down the hall, Roxie came out of the gym with her cheer bag on one shoulder.
Zac watched her pass, then forced himself toward first period before Dylan could say anything.
Class was worse.
Roxie sat three rows ahead, and Zac spent too much time pretending he was listening to the teacher instead of noticing every time she shifted in her seat.
She never turned around.
By afternoon practice, everyone came out too loud, too aggressive, and ready to hit something.
A whole field full of idiots with bruised egos.
Zac included.
Coach noticed in the first ten minutes.
"Again," he barked.
The offense reset.
Kyle came out of his stance late and shoved too hard after the whistle.
The defensive end shoved back.
Coach blew the whistle. "Cut it out."
Kyle threw his hands up. "He keeps jumping."
"Then beat him clean," Coach snapped.
Zac pulled his helmet off and walked toward the huddle. "Focus."
Kyle turned on him. "I am focused."
"Could’ve fooled me."
Mason muttered, "Here we go."
Kyle pointed toward the line. "Don’t start with me, Prescott. This is your fault."
Zac turned slowly. "My fault?"
"You heard me." Kyle ripped his mouthguard loose. "Everybody’s tight because you’ve been acting weird all day. Coach is on our ass because you look distracted, and now you’re taking it out on us."
A few players went quiet.
Zac stepped closer. "You missed the block."
Kyle laughed once. "And you missed the whole damn practice."
Zac’s grip tightened around his helmet.
He could feel the team watching.
Then Kyle laughed under his breath. "Maybe get your head out of the cheer gym."
Zac went still.
Dylan said, "Kyle, shut up."
Kyle looked right at Zac. "What? We’re all thinking it. He disappears with Roxie Jones one night, and now he’s staring through gym doors like some lovesick freshman."
Mason muttered, "Bro, stop."
Kyle didn’t.
"Maybe if you spent less time chasing cheerleaders, we wouldn’t look like trash two weeks before Fairmont."
Zac moved before he decided to.
He dropped his helmet and shoved Kyle hard in the chest.
Kyle stumbled back two steps, caught himself, and came forward fast.
The first punch came from Kyle.
It caught Zac near the jaw, sharp enough to snap his head sideways.
The field exploded.
"Whoa!"
"Hey!"
"Break it up!"
Zac hit him back.
Kyle grabbed his shoulder pads, and they slammed into each other, cleats scraping turf, hands yanking jerseys, helmets clattering near their feet. Someone pulled at Zac’s arm. Someone else grabbed Kyle from behind.
"Prescott!" Coach roared.
Zac barely heard him.
All he heard was Roxie’s name in Kyle’s mouth.
All he saw was her Saturday night, wrapped in his jacket, looking at him like one wrong word could ruin her life.
Kyle shoved again. "Get off me!"
Zac pushed forward. "Say her name again."
Dylan got between them, both hands against Zac’s chest. "Stop. Zac, stop."
Coach’s whistle screamed across the field.
Everyone froze except Zac, whose breathing was still too hard and too fast.
Coach stormed over, face furious.
Kyle’s lip was split.
Zac’s jaw throbbed.
The whole team stared.
Coach looked from Kyle to Zac, then back again.
"Locker room," Coach said, voice low and dangerous. "Both of you. Now." freewёbnoνel.com
Zac did not move.
Coach stepped closer. "I said now."
Dylan still had a hand against Zac’s chest.
Zac finally looked away from Kyle and picked up his helmet.
The field stayed silent as he walked toward the locker room.
Behind him, someone whispered, "We’re so dead."
Zac already knew.
