King of the Hill

'Go over and get some pads on, don't want any of you getting hurt. But also, just because you'll be wearing a bit of protection for this, doesn't mean you should go all out and try to hurt each other! This is just some practice between future teammates, no one needs to get injured,' Coach Long shouted out.

A few tables had been set up off to one side of the field. On these tables were plain, white helmets, as well as some shoulder pads. There were a few uninterested, snot-nosed brats manning these tables.

They weren't very helpful and didn't do their job of handing out the protection to the players well, the kids just pointed out what we could already obviously see and told us to take one.

It's exhilarating to put on football pads, even something as little as this. Like a warrior pulling on their armour before stepping foot onto the battlefield or arena.

'DBs, QBs, Tight Ends and Wideouts, over here when you've got your gear on,' Luke called out. Soon after the rest of the coaches barked out orders for other position groupings to go here or there.

I made my way over to where Luke had told us to go, where I was joined by plenty of others. I looked around at the fresh faces from the offensive side of the prospects.

The QBs didn't need any protective gear, there wouldn't be anyone laying even a finger on such precious members of the team.

Their level of calmness seemed correlated with their age. The older seniors and juniors were completely relaxed, chatting causally as they kept their arms loose and limber.

The sophomores and freshmen, on the other hand, looked so nervous and scared that they might piss themselves at any moment, or they were so serious looking it was as if their lives rode on the decision of them making varsity or not.

I scanned over the WRs more closely—they were to be my direct enemies after all. None of them were special. But I wouldn't underestimate or take any of them lightly. I had to crush them, even if they were going to be my teammates in the future.

Eventually, the Offensive Coordinator—I couldn't remember if he'd introduced himself or not—came over to talk to us and explain what we'd be doing.

'Alright boys, we'll just be doing simple one-on-ones,' he said, to quiet cheers and hisses of "Yes" from the players gathered.

'You get one shot then the next pair is up. After everyone's had a go, we'll switch it around to have different matchups and we'll also have you working with a different QB too.'

'You should let me stay on until someone gets a catch against me. I'll beat everyone here one after the other,' I said with a grin.

'You were right, Samuels—I haven't seen anyone like you,' Luke said as he wheeled over. 'I've got it from here, thanks, Coach Norman.' The other coach gave a nod before walking away to address another group of players.

Luke looked me up and down and continued, 'I've never met anyone as arrogant as you.'

'Ooooo,' the players around me exclaimed.

'Don't get ahead of yourself, freshman. First years like you are practically guaranteed to only make JV. You're lucky to have made it this far,' one of the older WRs said.

I looked him up and down. He held his helmet in one hand, his skin was darker than mine, but it only made his red eyes stand out more. Those eyes would've been more fitting on a predator. He was also the tallest in this group of players; he was a man among boys.

I scoffed. 'Pipe down. It'll be embarrassing when someone as old as you is forced to play JV all year. You might as well just quit now.'

'You wanna go, you fucking bitch? Who the hell do you think you are?' He stepped up to me and body-checked me.

Luke's whistle cut through the commotion before it could build into anything further.

'Samuels, Day, that's enough! No fighting between teammates, keep shit like that for on the field only. Ya both will be going last now, thanks to that little outburst.'

I ground my teeth together and moved out to the side, glaring at Luke who ignored me and organised the rest of the players to pair up and get ready.

Day followed me over to the sideline, purposefully bumping into me with his shoulder as he stopped by my side.

'You're gonna regret showing up today,' he said.

'You won't even want to play flag football after I'm done with you,' I retorted. I spat on the grass in front of him, and then went silent as the drills started.

I watched everyone closely to see if there was anyone else special that would be on the team. There were plenty of people trying their hand at the QB position, but hardly any of them were good.

Only one stuck out, but he wasn't great. He was just smooth, and calm, he didn't make any mistakes. He was so laid back that you would've thought he was a hippie transported directly from the '60s.

Nobody caught my eye when it came to the Receivers either, at least not in a good way. Just one look at their sloppy routes, slow feet, and brick-like hands told me that they'd never be able to beat me.

The CBs weren't even doing that good yet it was hard for anyone to get a catch. Watching those defenders try and play my position was infuriating, I wanted so badly to say something, but I kept quiet.

One little kid was really bad. He couldn't stop anything no matter how hard he tried, and did ever try. He was smaller than me, a lot smaller. Like a mouse, but he pumped those little legs like he was the damn road runner.

Not that it mattered, everyone else was too big, too strong. And aside from his quickness, he didn't have anything going for him, he had no technique or anticipation.

Finally, it was my turn.

'Samuels, Day, you're up,' Luke said. 'Keep it clean, you two. I will throw ya both off the team if ya keep starting shit.'

I took up my position on the field, getting loose as I kept my eyes on Day. He had a quick talk with the Hippie—who looked to be the QB for our dual—and then came over to line up in front of me.

'If you apologise right now, I might take it easy on you,' Day said.

'I'm going to crush you.'

We glared daggers at each other. I felt my heart pounding slow and strong, like a great drum announcing the beginning of a war. My whole body tensed up, muscles wound tight and ready to explode.

All the noise around us faded into silence and the calm before the storm seemed to drag on forever.

'Hike!'

Day burst forward, trying to use his size and strength to bullrush straight through me. I slapped his hands down and backpedalled quickly.

He stutter-stepped before darting past me. My hand went to his hip and my eyes turned to the QB as I kept pace with Day and stayed by his side.

A grin consumed my face as I felt Day begin to turn back and at the same time saw the Hippie pull his arm back.

I waited, just enough to make sure it wasn't a feint, then, when I confirmed it really was a curl route I pounced.

It was one of the easiest interceptions of my life. I crashed through Day's outstretched arms and met the ball first, it was a tight spiral and came into my hands nicely. I knew that if this was a real game, I would've taken it right back to the house for six, easily.

But as it was just a drill, I stopped only a few paces after I made the catch and turned back to Day. My grin only grew as I saw the shock on his face. I flipped him the ball and he caught it with a juggle.

His confusion quickly turned to rage and he hurled the ball back at me. I caught it on my chest. He then stormed past me and got in the Hippie's face, complaining that it was a shit throw.

Luke's whistle rang out again. 'Day! Go take a walk and calm down!'

I waved Day off before turning my attention to Luke.

'So… who's next?'