Shane sank to his knees, staring at the scoreboard. He'd failed, and the Titans had fallen short because of it. Another year wasted, all because he couldn't best Joseph. A final chance gone up in flames for some. Tears rolled down his cheeks, met at his chin, then fell to the ground.
Joseph approached, extending a hand to the fallen Titan. 'You were a worthy opponent, Shane Spearhead. It was a lot of fun fighting you, and I look forward to our rematch in next year's championship.'
Shane took the hand, smiling as he stood with Joseph's help. He didn't wipe his face. 'Good luck at Nationals,' he said. 'You're representing us and every other team that fell chasing after the championship.'
'I'll represent our state proudly and bring back the National trophy for everyone.'
They parted ways amicably, Joseph thanking more Titans and congratulating more of his teammates; Shane wandered aimlessly. He knew he had another chance next year, another opportunity to face Joseph, but still he wept for his teammates. His aimless wandering turned to a search for those seniors who had fallen short for the final time.
Jackson, and the rest of the Titans' fans, were in shock, staring at the field as if it had become rainbow-coloured. Rudy stood, leaving hurriedly, grumbling about how he should've known they couldn't do it.
No-one went after him, but Tommy stood. 'It's alright, Rudy! It was a good game … it was a good game…' He watched the boy descend, ignoring him. 'Hey! Did you need a ride?!' Still, Rudy didn't turn around or acknowledge him.
'I can't believe it,' Jasmine mumbled.
'I can,' Kenny said. 'It's because of Grant and those other assholes. If me and Jackson had been playing, hell, Rudy too, we would've won.'
Jasmine nodded slowly, warming to the idea. 'Yeah. You're right. If you guys had been playing, it would've been different, right, Jackson?' She looked at him, big eyes seeking. Seeking an easy answer, seeking something like a poor coaching decision to be mad at.
Jackson sighed. 'Yeah, it would've been different.'
She smiled; her hurt eased as she found something palpable to direct her negativity towards. She hadn't heard the deeper meaning in his words, the reluctance in his voice. Jackson believed there would've been a big difference if he and Kenny had been playing. Despite their best efforts, they would've lost by a greater margin; that's just where their levels were at currently.
But what had been the real reason the Titans lost? Jackson couldn't quite put his finger on a definitive answer, but what he leant towards, and what he felt most strongly was the answer, baffled and worried him. For some reason, he believed Shane was at fault for the loss, but that didn't make sense. One person couldn't be responsible for a loss, could they? It was supposed to be a team issue. The Eagles were the better team … so why, no matter how many times he told himself that, did he feel it came down to Joseph being better than Shane?
'It was a great game,' Tommy said, taking his seat, 'and not everybody can win every game. One team has to lose. That's just the nature of the sport. Today, that team was the Titans.' The surrounding air only grew heavier and darker, so he quickly added: 'But I'm sure they'll grow from this loss and come back better and stronger next year.'
'Because me and Jackson'll be playing by then,' Kenny said.
Tommy frowned, but Jackson reached over, bumping fists with Kenny. 'Yeah. Next year we'll lead the team back here, and we'll become champions.'
Jasmine grinned, wrapping an arm around their shoulders. 'It's a promise! I know you guys have got this.'
Tommy sighed, but even he smiled. 'I bet you will, and it won't even be close.'
They all got up, then joined the stream of people filing down the steps and out of the stands. Tommy glanced across the field, watching the teams shake hands. 'Your teammates would probably take it wrong if you guys went down to the locker room and comforted them, huh?'
'Definitely,' both Kenny and Jackson said.
'Thought so. Let's just get out of here.' No-one protested, and the group headed to the busy carpark, seeking Tommy's car.
The teams shook hands without incident, even with Wesley and some others—namely Grant—shaking rather quickly and roughly, rushing through the gesture before bee-lining straight to the locker room.
Wesley stormed through the door first, bashing it open so hard it banged against the wall and swung shut behind him. The next bang was when he threw his helmet against his locker. 'I can't stand this shit!'
The door clanged open again, Grant striding in, eyes locking onto Wesley quickly. 'I wonder what it is you can't stand? The fact you can't read a defence if your life depended on it? Or the fact you couldn't throw a ball into the ocean from the deck of a cruise ship?'
Wesley rounded on him, his anger smothered when he saw Daniel and Demetrius behind Grant. Of course, those sheep were flanking him. The three jackals shoved Wesley against his locker.
'I hope you know we lost because of YOU,' Daniel said.
'Bullshit,' Wesley growled, prying at the hands on his collar.
Micky was the next one in, the door opening smoothly. His eyes widened at the scene, and he rushed in, pulling Demetrius off the pile, earning himself a shove as a reward for his concern. But more players weren't far behind Micky. They streamed in non-stop, hurrying over to separate what was thankfully only a scuffle.
When Shane arrived, the shoving was still ongoing, and shouting leaked from the room. It had devolved into multiple scuffles now, as everyone had someone to blame for the defeat.
'Guys. Guys, stop it!' he shouted to no effect; his voice was lost in the chaos. He climbed onto the nearest bench. 'IT'S MY FAULT!'
Silence followed as all eyes turned to Shane; everything else froze. 'An admirable thought, Spearhead,' Coach Otsen said, standing just within the door. He closed it gently behind him. 'But sit down. EVERYONE sit down and shut your mouths.'
They finally separated with a few last shoves, and everyone sat, most dusting themselves off and adjusting their uniforms or hair.
Coach Otsen looked around the room, face grim but otherwise unreadable. He let them sit and stew in their silence for several minutes. The rest of the coaches were spread throughout the room, watching the boys closely. Then, Coach Otsen finally spoke again.
'We lost as a team, and we'll take our punishment as a team,' he said.
'Bullshit,' Wesley muttered.
Coach Otsen's head snapped around to him. 'You got something to share, Walker?'
'I think that's bullshit,' Wesley repeated.
Coach Otsen stalked over to him then crouched down, nose to nose with the boy. 'I wonder if you'd still think that way if you were off the team,' Coach Otsen said. He stayed right there, barely an inch away from the boy, unblinking as he waited for Wesley's response.
Wesley scoffed, initially not believing the threat—he was too good to be dropped to JV, let alone cut altogether, and all the backups were shit—but… he knew Coach Otsen wasn't one to joke. If Coach said something, he meant it, so Wesley shut up.
Coach Otsen, satisfied, moved away and strode around the room, looking over each individual player. 'You ALL need to get over yourselves. Most of you in here will have another chance at this. Next year you'll be right here in the same position, I guarantee it, and I guarantee we're not gonna make the same mistakes, are we?'
There was a chorus of "No, Sir".
'No,' Coach Otsen agreed. 'So now is the time you should think about those who CAN'T be with you next year. The ones whose last chance YOU just blew.'
Shane looked at Micky, leaning closer to him before saying: 'I'm sorry we couldn't make it. How are you holding up?'
Micky grinned at him. 'I'm fine,' he said. 'I already got over all this stuff back in Regionals. I knew every game could've been my last, so I was gonna enjoy them, and treat each one like it WAS my last. That meant I gave it my all, and cherished every damn down.'
Shane clapped him on the back. 'I'm glad you're handling it well. Still, I'm sorry we couldn't hoist that trophy together. It's my one regret… and it's shit we can't keep playing together.'
Micky blinked. It was rare that Shane's emotions got the better of him, rarer still that that materialised into him swearing. 'Thanks, bro. It means a lot. It sucks it ends here, but hey, I'll see you again in college.'
'I'll hold you to that,' Shane said, finally smiling again.
Coach Otsen went through another speech, culminating in a reminder that preseason training started immediately after the Christmas break. When he was winding down, just before he could send the team home, Micky hopped up. 'Mind if I say a few things, Coach?' he asked.
Coach Otsen looked at him, surprised, but relented and gave him the floor. 'Take it away, Micky.'
Micky moved into the centre of the room, standing on a bench. He grinned, meeting eyes with everyone. 'I just wanted to thank you all for being the best bunch of misfits, and annoying motherfuckers a motherfucker could ask for. Y'all made these four years of school bearable. I don't regret shit, and I know y'all are gonna come back next year, bigger, better, and badder. We might've fallen this year, but next year that trophy is yours, and then you motherfuckers are gonna go on and conquer the fucking nation.'
He stepped down only to be hoisted back up on the shoulders of his teammates; the mood instantly reversed within the room. Coach Otsen watched with a smile as the team threw Micky up and down, repeatedly chanting "next year".
Shane remained on the outskirts, watching Micky bob up and down, twisting and turning as he laughed, a grin splitting his face. He held the promise in his heart, etching it there. Not just for Micky's sake, but for all the other seniors that were graduating at the end of the school year. Next year would be the Titans' year.
'You guys'll get 'em next year,' Tommy said.
He looked around the car, examining each of the occupants' faces. Kenny's was scrunched up in a scowl, his vision locked straight ahead, staring out of the window. With her eyes closed and her head against Jackson's shoulder, Jasmine could've been resting. Jackson's face was a mess of emotions, shock at the Titans' loss, embarrassment and nervousness from Jasmine's proximity, determination to make the team and win next year so no one had to suffer the anguish of losing.
'Is that it for football?' Jasmine asked, her eyes remaining shut.
'Coach'll still work us to the bone during practice,' Kenny said, 'but that's it for official games.'
'And you guys can still do plenty of training yourselves over winter,' Tommy added.
'We have to,' Jackson said. 'It can't end like that for us. Or worse. I won't let it.'
Jasmine pressed closer against Jackson. 'I know you'll do it,' she mumbled against him.
He tensed. With all her shouting and stomping, it was no wonder she was so tired after the game. He was surprised he could still smell her perfume—lilacs and lilies dancing together.
Kenny turned around in his seat, his determined scowl taking in Jackson now. He thrust a fist out towards him. 'Nationals is OURS next year.'
Jackson grinned, bumping his fist against Kenny's. 'Yeah. We'll conquer the nation, right?'
Jasmine and Tommy watched, witnesses to the promise, setting it in stone. Tommy knew they both meant what they said, but he also knew they needed a lot of work to get there. Work that couldn't wait for any holiday. They'd have to get started bright and early tomorrow. The Titans' off-season would be long and hard, but it'd be the crucible that prepared them to take the leap next year, and claim that trophy.