Resolution

Tommy's hands and fingers tapped against the steering wheel, following along with the drums of the music blaring from the radio as he and Jackson made their way through lamplit streets back home.

The Titans' games were over for the day, and Tommy felt that it had been another valuable experience to watch them both up close.

He looked across at Jackson and asked: 'What did you think of the games? Pretty good right?' Before Jackson could answer, Tommy continued with more of his own thoughts. 'That varsity team, woo boy, they look strong. They could probably go on to win State.'

Jackson nodded wordlessly, it almost looked like his head was bobbing along to the music.

The Titans' varsity squad had gone on to win their game comfortably, again led by Shane as he spearheaded both the offensive and defensive efforts and carried the team along for the win with his usual dominating performance.

They'd beaten every team in the division at least once now, and only had to worry about the second meetings in the back half of this round-robin-like format. They seemed a lock for Regionals, and if they kept playing with the same intensity and discipline that they showed in the first half of the season, they'd most likely head into Regionals with their undefeated record intact.

'It was tough luck regarding the JV team and their game though, they almost had the win in the end,' Tommy said.

'Yeah, it was unlucky. They almost had it,' Jackson repeated. The JV team consisting of Kenny and the others had only lost by one touchdown in the end.

'I bet if they had you out there helping them they would've won, easy.' Tommy grinned. 'If you weren't already out there helping the varsity team win that is, hahaha.'

Jackson frowned, going quiet again.

Tommy's smile faded. 'Well, best not to worry about stuff like that seeing as you're injured right now anyway…' Tommy cleared his throat and dialled up the volume of the radio a couple of levels.

Jackson looked out the window, watching the lights flash by. They probably WOULD have won if he was playing. … Right?

He liked to believe they would've, but he wasn't sure. And he also wasn't sure about how their loss made him feel.

A part of him was glad in a way. The team losing meant that they did need him, and if he could contribute to them winning, then he'd be a great value, and they'd welcome him back with open arms. He didn't like having those selfish thoughts, it made him feel sick, but he couldn't ignore that side of him, as shitty as it sounded.

Then there was the other side. This side also saw that they lost because he wasn't out there, but it focused on the loss, and him being on the sidelines. It was HIS fault they lost. HE had let them down all because he tried to run away from his problems and had gotten himself hurt; he didn't deserve to be welcomed back to the team.

It was the way that the Titans had lost as well that was most frustrating and tormenting. Their opponents—the Vista Grande Spartans—had targeted Freddy constantly throughout their final drive. They saw he was the weak link defensively—it didn't take a genius to figure out—and they'd abused him to get the touchdown they needed for the win.

The Spartans had been ruthless in their attack. They were fast and disciplined, with a headstrong, young Head Coach, who looked like he was a college student, barely older than Tommy.

That Coach had been quick to see that Freddy was the weak point of the Titans' defence, and was even quicker to exploit it. The Spartans themselves were quick to adjust to the changes and advice their coach gave to them as well, clearly having total confidence in him.

After that, the Titans did their best to struggle and hold on, thankfully they seemed more than a match for them on the other side of the ball—for the most part at least—but their defeat was inevitable in the end.

No matter what Coach Otsen tried, or how many adjustments of their own he and Coach Carson made, no matter what defensive scheme or formation they drew up, they couldn't hide Freddy sufficiently enough, and he led to their downfall.

It wasn't for a lack of trying on Freddy's part that he couldn't keep up, on the contrary, he gave his all and played his heart out—that too, was clear to see for even a blind man—but it just wasn't enough, he could only hold on for so long.

He was the one who got beat for the final touchdown, and when the Spartans focused on everyone other than him during the Titans' final drive, he wasn't able to pick up the slack or relieve any pressure from his teammates, leading to them falling just short.

'Hey,' Tommy's voice caused Jackson to look over. 'There's going to be a National Championship for the high school level this year, right? That could probably take a while… so, I reckon you could have a chance of making it back to help your team out if they make it into the National Tournament.'

'Uhh… I don't know about that… I mean, even if I did get healed up in time, I heard that was only for varsity teams, and so… I wouldn't be on that team anyway.'

'Naah, come on. I promise I'll get you back into shape, no matter how long that takes, and you don't have to worry about your skills being up to par. If you get back to the way you used to be, then you'll be more than good enough to make varsity.'

"But I wasn't varsity to begin with." Jackson kept his thoughts to himself.

'Just, getting healed is the real problem. We can't try to force you back before your body's ready.' He looked over, seeing the hesitation and doubt evident in Jackson's eyes. He cleared his throat again. 'Though uh, maybe for now we'll just focus on getting you healthy again and in your best condition. Get your body and mind right before we worry about football.'

Jackson nodded once more.

'Speaking of, when is that leg supposed to be healed? Shouldn't you be close to seeing your doc again and getting it evaluated?'

'Yeah, I've got an appointment with them this coming week. They'll check out my leg and how the bones are healing. They'll see if I can stop relying on the crutches as much, and tell me when I can start to rehab it.'

'Awesome! That's great, and I'm sure it'll go well. Hey, you just let me know when you get a proper date and time locked in. I'll do my best to make sure I'm free to come check it out with you so I can know first-hand what the doc recommends for exercises to strengthen and rehab it.' He looked excited, grinning widely.

'Yeah, sounds good.'

'It'd be good to get into some proper workouts with you, little bro.' He reached over and ruffled Jackson's hair.

'I don't know how "proper" they'll really be, but yeah … I guess that would be nice?'

'You guess? What, don't ya like spending time with your big bro?' Tommy nudged him.

'That's not what I mean and you know it.' Jackson shoved him playfully and the two laughed.

It wasn't much longer before they reached home.

Tommy shut the car off. 'Alright, get inside, and get to bed. Sleep is one of the most important parts when it comes to recovering and improving. You can't grow if you don't give your body time to rest.'

Jackson felt it was a little too early but didn't see the point in arguing. 'Okay, okay.' He got out and took out his crutches, following Tommy inside.

Tommy stopped by the living room, checking in with the rest of the family as they were all watching a movie together. He told them how the games went, and described some key highlights to his dad.

Jackson limped over to the stairs leading up to the bedrooms.

Tommy turned his head. 'Goodnight, little bro. I love you.'

'Yeah, love you too.'

'Goodnight, Jackie!' the rest of the family disjointedly said.

'Goodnight!'

'Love you!'

'Yeah, I love you all too.'

Jackson sighed and continued up the stairs carefully. He made his way over to his room, and then flopped into bed.

An hour later—after getting changed into his pyjamas and laying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling—he still couldn't get to sleep. Alone in the dark, he was stuck with nothing but his thoughts, and he couldn't keep them away.

He sat up, and decided to distract himself with some weightlifting. He had two tennis balls with him as well now, juggling them both in the one hand, while the other pushed and pulled the weight around, with it was for bicep curls, shoulder presses, lateral raises, or rows. Then he'd swap over when one arm got tired.

Even forcing his body through these efforts, his mind was still troubled and clouded.

It was his fault they lost the game.

He was arrogant to believe that he was good enough to change the outcome of the game singlehandedly.

He should just run and give up on football entirely.

He should've crashed into oncoming traffic.

He set the weight down on the floor, more noisily than he should've. He let the tennis balls drop and bounce away until they settled wherever they came to a stop, and then he stood up.

He hobbled out of his room. Leaving his crutches behind, he stuck close to the wall and used it as support while he hopped down the hall towards the bathroom.

There wasn't any noise coming from the living room anymore, the lower level of the house was dark, but he still heard the noise of a TV coming from his parents' bedroom as he passed by.

In the bathroom, he went right to the sink, splashing water onto his face before he stared at himself in the mirror. He had to chase out those bad thoughts and focus on something else.

What would Tommy do in this situation? What would Jerry Rice do?

"They aren't pathetic enough to end up like this!"

"How dare you compare yourself to them when you're just a pathetic little kid!"

He shook his head. He ignored those whiny little voices in the back of his head as best he could. He had to try his best he had to …

'You have to give up.' HE was standing over him again. Jackson's blood ran cold. 'Run away and never set foot on another football field again. Trash like you ain't worthy.'

Jackson splashed his face again, the cold water shocked the nightmare away, silencing HIS horrible, taunting voice. He breathed heavily, unsure if there was cold sweat running down his face mingled with the tap water. He stared down into the sink, watching water drip into the drain.

He couldn't think like that, couldn't try to emulate his idols. He couldn't think back to THAT moment. He couldn't focus on football right now.

"I just have to get better. Physically, mentally, I have to be the best I can be."

He looked into the mirror again and nodded. He turned and left the bathroom, making his way back to his bed. He had to sleep for now, and when Monday came around, he really needed to talk with Ms Cotton again.