18 Chapter 18: The Chariot II

Duncan was in the midst of a crowd of his teammates. As a form of team meeting, they were listening to the coach. The coach has a lot to explain, particularly to the freshmen. Mr. Wilson also stated that they came on board late in the season.

While Duncan and the other freshmen joined the team at the end of September, the high school football season had already begun. It's the fourth week of the season, and every season has 10 games until the playoffs, so Duncan and the other freshman can play at least 6 more games.

That is, if they can get themselves in shape to play next week.

"All right, listen up," Mr. Wilson said. "Some of you must have seen our team's starting lineup on the board and noticed that there are some freshmen on that team. That team will not be implemented until the end of the fifth week due to our tight timeline. Now we have lost three times already, so it's not like giving the freshmen a chance this season will affect our standings. We're already at the bottom."

It was a genuinely sad sight.

One of the seniors raised their hands. "Coach, are we really doing that? I mean, is that legal? Bringing in fresh players in the middle of the season."

"I'm not sure, probably," the coach shrugged. "It's not like you're trying to get the attention of college scouts, is it? We're all nerds around here."

The players all merely sighed at the state of the team. Nobody could really refute the coach's words; they are all sh*t at the game.

"But, coach, are you really going to give a freshman the starting position?" A senior complained. "I mean, what about us?"

"What about it, Kcid? The fact is, Plagmann here is literally better than you in any aspect of the game." The coach made a point of bringing Duncan's name up during the discussion. "I'm not going to put you back in the starting lineup unless you can throw with at least 80% accuracy."

"Coach, he's never even played a single legit football game!" countered senior quarterback Keith Kcid.

"Well, if I keep playing you as the quarterback, he'll never play a 'legit' football game, will he?" Coach responded. "Enough of this; let's get some training going."

The coach then promptly blew his whistle, instructing the boys to proceed to the field for some warmups.

—

Duncan was now standing in front of his locker in the school's shower room. He'd just washed away sweat and filth from a long training session on the field. Around him were his teammates; all of them were butt naked, with only towels covering their junk.

It was a tense first training in Duncan's eyes, not because of its difficulty but because of the bitterness that was caused by a lot of freshmen replacing the seniors on the team. While Duncan felt sorry for the seniors in their final year on the team and questioned Mr. Wilson's coaching and nurturing abilities, it's only high school football at the end of the day, and Midtown High School of Technology and Science is no place to try to grow in life through athletics.

However, teenagers are still teenagers. Despite the fact that they rarely won games, the boys craved the spotlight. They are undoubtedly addicted to the buzz of being the center of attention at a pep rally. Duncan couldn't really blame them, given he had done a lot to attract attention, including joining the football team in the first place.

The distinction is that he was rewarded for his attention-seeking behavior, whilst others were not.

All of a sudden, Duncan could hear a loud bang coming from behind the locker in front of him. The boy scowled at the noise and hastily put on a shirt before investigating.

He could see a number of people surrounding a specific locker as he looked past the cabinet, and he observed Flash Thompson being pushed down against said locker by a senior.

"You think you're the sh*t, don't you?" The senior hissed in fury. "You think just because you got the position, you can say whatever you want to me?"

"I'm just telling you the facts, man." Thompson let out a deep chuckle, as if amused by the scenario. "You seniors simply can't seem to get it through your brains that the coach chose us because we're better than you. Stop moping around and get your mind in the game."

"You haven't even played a single game, and you're already cocky," The senior spat at Thompson.

The blonde boy simply closed his eyes and wiped the spit away. "You're right, but at least I know I'll outperform you; you couldn't even catch the ball correctly, let alone score a touchdown."

Thompson was shoved into the locker by the senior, his eyes blazing with rage. "What did you say?"

"You heard me." Thompson responded. "Last season, I saw your record. Never scored a touchdown; couldn't even catch the ball; always fell short. And people wonder why we're the shittiest football team in New York."

The senior threw his fist into Thompson's face without even a warning. Duncan could hear the sound of boys hyping up the fight echoed throughout the locker room. Thompson staggered towards the locker at first, but he immediately recovered and returned a punch.

Instead of punching the senior in the skull, he went for his gut. The senior gasped for air as he stepped back a couple of feet from Thompson, wrenching in pain.

"Is that all you got?" Thompson asked cruelly as he spat blood from his mouth. "My grandmother could punch harder than that."

While groaning in pain, the senior attempted to get to Thompson, but he was stopped by his teammate to stop the battle.

"Hey, cut it out!" exclaimed his teammate, who was holding him from behind.

"Get off me!" yelled the senior. He elbowed his friend, causing him to loosen his grip on the enraged senior, and he charged at Thompson like a bull.

Thompson was tackled by the senior, and both of them collided into the locker, knocking it to the ground.

The room had devolved into anarchy. People tried to get the senior away from Thompson, and Duncan noticed that the senior was pounding Thompson in the face repeatedly, his face flushed with rage.

Duncan finally stepped in. He quickly yanked the senior away from the blonde boy before tossing him away. The room became silent when he did this.

Duncan couldn't help but sigh at the sight. Thompson's face was pale blue, and his cheeks were puffy.

"Fucking freshmen." The senior rose up immediately, wiping some blood from his nose from Thompson's previous strike. He didn't seem to let up, and he was now after Duncan, a fellow freshman.

He charged like a bull once more, this time towards Duncan. Instead of attempting to stop him, the other teammate avoided him for fear of being tackled by the senior.

Duncan just stayed there as the senior came at him, but instead of dodging, the boy confronted him head-on. Duncan tackled him back as he surged towards the senior.

The boy seized the senior's body and fiercely hugged him before slamming him to the ground. The boys around him were making a "ooh" sound.

"Are you done now?" Duncan asked, easily holding down the senior.

"Fuck you," the senior cursed as he struggled to free himself from Duncan's clutches.

And then...

"Griff! Plagmann! Thompson!" exclaimed the boy. He turned back only to see Mr. Wilson, who was furious. "My office, now!"

Duncan could only sigh at the predicament. He immediately regrets intervening in the brawl.

—

Duncan sat on a chair in front of Mr. Wilson's office. The boy could see that the senior from before was being spat on by the coach in that office, which had a transparent window in front of the room. Besides Duncan, there was Thompson, who was holding a chunk of ice and was pressing said ice to his face.

"Why the fuck did you say all of that?" Duncan questioned the blonde boy. "Now they'll just hate us more."

"They're behaving like fucking children who had their candy stolen." Thompson scoffed. "It's not like our situation will improve if they still have the starting position."

"Yeah, but you don't have to be such a dick about it." Duncan stated.

"I do," he said. "Those seniors will need to focus. We still have six games left, and I intend to win all of them. Yet these guys are just sulking like babies."

"Dude, it's just high school football." Duncan said. "And it's Midtown. Our high school isn't exactly famous for its football team; just relax, man."

"And you don't want that to change?" Thompson questioned. "You want our school to be an embarrassment in terms of a football team?"

"Our school is built for science. We're nerds for god's sake." Duncan answered. "We're not good at sports, but we're good at everything else. A lot of us simply don't care about this sort of stuff."

Thompson scoffed. "Well, I do."

"How'd you get into this school anyway?" questioned Duncan. "If you care about football, then, I don't know, go to Bayville or somewhere else."

"Are you saying I'm dumb, Plagmann?" Thompson frowned deeply.

"If you really think that was what I just said, then yes," answered Duncan calmly.

Thompson didn't say anything at first, but then he put away the ice, putting it on the seat beside him. "My parents wanted me here. If I can choose where I want to go, then I'll go to the nearest school from my house, but no, they wanted me here."

"Where do you live anyway?"

"Manhattan."

"East? West?"

"Upper East."

"Oh wow, so your parents are rich." Duncan hummed. "Doctors? CEO?"

"NYU Biology professors. Both of them," he murmured. "They worked with some companies to do some research right now, so we're relatively well off."

"Research? What kind?"

"Don't know. Never said anything about it," he said. "I'm not interested in their stuff anyway."

"So you don't like science but like sports?"

"You can say that..." Thompson murmured.

Duncan hummed. "Well, just don't be a dick to those guys anymore; morale is at an all-time low; if you do that kind of shit again, it'll just be worse."

Thompson scoffed. "You're defending them now?"

"I'm the starting quarterback, Thompson." Duncan pointed out. "A lot of the offense team is senior, so if you spit on them, they won't cooperate with me,"

"Then as your wide receiver, Mr. Quarterback, just throw the ball to me."

Duncan just sighed. "That's not how football works."

Thompson could then see the senior walk out of the room as he glared at the boy. He stared the senior down for a couple of seconds as the senior walked through the hallway, and when it was clear, he stood up, as if it were his turn to enter the room.

"Whatever," he said. "Just do your job properly, and we'll be good."

Duncan could then hear the sound of breaking chains in his head, indicating a rank increase. The boy just sat there in silence as Thompson entered the room, preparing to be spat on by Mr. Wilson.