Pizza was the reward after the Dons' second round victory. The celebrations were much more lowkey than their last victory. It had been a satisfying result, but one that felt inevitable halfway through the game.
So there they were, back in their hotel, the same one they'd stayed at when the calendars flipped over to a new year. It was four boys to a room, and each room had their own pepperoni pizza to share. The starting DBs were crammed into one.
From Deshaun's phone came the varied voice of Playboi Carti, barely filling the room; Coach Long had already warned about not getting noise complaints.
Even whilst nestled into the corner on his bed, Ty couldn't hear any music or even much chatter coming from the next room over. Yes the walls seemed thick, but the "after party" had been muted, even if everyone was still overjoyed.
The flat-screen TV displayed recaps and highlights of the day's NBA games. Ty wasn't fussed, even if he would've preferred any news about the other National tournament games being played around the country. Mostly he was overly energetic. Sitting there doing nothing didn't help. There was a ball of energy within him, still thrumming, still waiting to explode. He needed to do something.
No-one protested when he stood. They were all settled on their respective beds, focused on their phones. The pizza had long been eaten, only a final forgotten slice remaining in the discarded box.
'I'm going to the gym,' Ty said. They'd passed it upon entering … well, not really, but he'd seen signs pointing to what floor it was on. It was worth checking out, and even if it only had a few dumbbells, a yoga ball, and a treadmill, it'd be better than nothing.
'Sleep outside or don't make any noise when you come back,' Deshaun said without looking up.
Ty didn't bother with a response, closing the door gently behind him before slipping his earphones in and heading down. The stairs were a good warm-up, but each flight down he could feel his need building.
The gym was better than expected. Even if the idea of it only having one small set of dumbbells and a few other basic benches and such was the bottom of the barrel worst it could be, he was still only expecting something marginally better, not something that would've given any commercial gym a run for its money.
There was everything you could ever need—without getting too obscure and specific—and most equipment had multiples. It even smelled nice, at least in a sterile way rather than stinking like a melting pot of BO. Yet even with all that. It was empty.
He went to the squat-rack and started loading up the bar with just a plate on either side to begin. Once it was prepared, he made sure he was too, stretching out his quads, calves, and hamstrings before ducking under the weight and getting to work.
The quiet, the rhythm, and the music—JID—all helped his blood flow and pump. And while his body heated up and finally started off-loading some of that pent-up energy, his mind was freed as well.
The game had been good, but it hadn't pushed him. He—and the Dons—were already above the level of the competition they'd faced. He needed the next challenge.
Were the Warriors worse than the Eagles despite making it to the second round? Just looking at the box score and final scores of both games, the obvious answer would be yes, but Ty didn't think it was that easy. At a team level, were they? Across the board, one-by-one on an individual basis, were they really that far behind? Or was the difference so large just because the Eagles had someone like Joseph Fale.
Ty warmed up a set of twelve reps before moving to two plates and going to failure, then worked back with drop-sets, going to failure each time until he was back at his starting weight and even that was too heavy.
He slammed the bar back into the rack and leaned against it. His breathing was heavy but controlled as he made his way to the leg press, waiting and cooling down before getting into position.
Fale being the difference maker seemed the most likely explanation for why the Warriors fell so easily compared to the Eagles. It didn't mean the Warriors weren't a championship level team, they just didn't have that special someone to drag them beyond such a level and into something more.
That's how important someone like Fale—someone special—was to their team.
Ty worked through his sets on the leg press machine much like he did his squats even if his leg press warm-ups already had a couple of plates. After a set of twelve reps, he stacked on a couple more 25s, and pushed to failure. If he wasn't challenged in the game, he'd challenge himself.
After the leg press, it was on to calf raises. A plate under each foot gave him a wider range of motion, letting his heel dip further. He started off with a weightless set, exploding up onto his toes before slowly lowering back down til his heels were almost touching the ground. After warming up he held a 25 lbs plate in each hand, going through a few more sets of twelve.
The top four Receivers were all still ahead of him and the Dons. No doubt they'd have to be special, everyone who'd made an All-American team, whether for defence or offence, had to be. Some teams had multiple members in that list. That meant multiple players that were special something the Dons hadn't faced before … it didn't matter. Two v one, three v one, or even a five v one, Ty would beat them all.
Maybe he wouldn't have to do it alone. JJ would be by his side, right? He was surprised JJ wasn't in the gym as well, the boy seemed to live in it, he had to with a body like that.
After re-racking the plates, Ty wiped sweat from his face with his shirt. It was hot, the excess energy was burning out of him, and burning him up in the process. He peeled his shirt off, draping it over the nearest bench, and turned to the mirror.
Ty never understood why they were in gyms. If it were up to him, they'd be removed. They were just distractions, even then he was caught in its trap, flexing his trembling legs as he posed for his own inspection. He was small, skinny, even if defined. JJ and Fale could snap him like a twig.
Looks didn't matter on the field, performance ruled there, but the gridiron was as harsh as the mirror, if not more so. The answer was still the same out there under the lights were all those with eyes could see he—wasn't strong enough.
He'd overcome Fale and just about everyone put before him, but he still needed to be stronger. Sometimes he cut things too close. An overtime win in the State championship, a game-winning field goal against the Eagles, stronger teams wouldn't give them the chance.
"I need to be stronger!"
Movement caught his eye. He hadn't been alone for a long time, but only then did he notice his second shadow. Bella was there, copying his calf raises.
She met eyes with him in the mirror and her cheeks darkened as she stopped what she was doing.
She stepped off the plates and looked away. 'It's not like I followed you on purpose! Or … I mean, I was just wondering where you were running off to so late!'
He sighed, sitting down on the bench. He hadn't even said anything and she was already shouting … 'So why are you here?'
'Well it's just … my dad snores like crazy and it was keeping me from sleeping. So I stepped out for some peace and quiet and then I-I noticed you in the hall and I was curious where you were going and didn't want you getting into any trouble so I had to make sure and th-that's it!'
His brow furrowed. Why was she glaring at him as if accusing him of something. Get into trouble? How could he?
'A-Anyway, why are you even out here doing all this?' she asked. 'You should be resting after a game.'
'You saw the game. I didn't do enough. I'm here because … I need to be stronger.'
'Stronger? But we shut them out.'
'We did. But do you think that was because we were so strong? Or was it because the Warriors were weak. They weren't much of a challenge.'
She sat down opposite him, staring a little too long before she remembered what she was actually looking at and turned her head away. 'They were still strong, we were just stronger today. They were tougher than the scoreboard says.'
He grunted and she sighed. 'Besides,' she said, 'I think you're gonna get your wish next week.'
'Why?'
'Because each team's only gonna get stronger … and well if not next week then soon. If we make it past the next game, we'll have a top two team in the country waiting for us, fresh and ready to destroy who- and whatever gets in their way! They're the team everyone's expecting to get into the finals. Some people are even saying we should just skip to the final and let them and the Longhorns fight for the championship.'
Her face contorted further the longer her rant went on. Ty knew who she was talking about. Only one more game stood between the Dons and reaching the final eight teams in the country. If they made it that far the South Miami Cobras would be waiting for them in the quarter-finals, and they won't have played a game since the prior year. How could they have earned that but not the Dons?
'You might think it's unfair,' she said, as if reading his mind, 'but they're good. Worthy of being top two. Even if we win our next game, if it it's not a blowout like today, I think we're screwed.'
'Bullshit. You're buying into the hype too much. I don't give a fuck what other people think, the Cobras can't be THAT good. For starters, even if they're supposedly top two, that doesn't matter. Because you know who's number one? We are.'
A laugh bounced across the room, startling Bella. She jumped up to her feet, looking around.
'Apologies, I didn't mean to startle you,' Kentavious Rice Junior said, striding across the room. 'Nor did I mean to eavesdrop but well, it's not like you were speaking quietly.'
Bella stepped back, moving to Ty's side. He stood as well, eyes narrowed. 'What the hell are you doing here?' Bella asked.
'What anyone is doing in a gym like this, coming to workout. Unfortunately I got a little distracted by your conversation.'
She rolled her eyes. 'Yeah but why are you HERE?'
'My father owns this hotel. We're visiting the city to watch the games up close.'
'Sorry about that,' Ty said. 'I didn't give you much to study today, did I?'
'Oh contraire, I learned a lot about you today, even if there is only so much you can learn from watching someone shut down such an uninspiring Receiver for sixty minutes. Your girlfriend is right—'
'Girlfriend?!' Bella and Ty both said, though Bella's exclamation was more like a shriek.
'Oh, sorry I just thought…' Kentavious looked them both over and chuckled. '…It's not important. What is, is that you're going to have a much harder time going forward. I hope you do well against South Miami, truly, but you shouldn't underestimate the Tigers standing in your way.'
'Tigers?'
'The Neville Tigers. Louisiana's representative. They won their game earlier today. As such, they'll be your next opponent.'
'Sounds like you've been watching the competition pretty closely,' Ty said. 'Must be nice having so much free time, not having to worry about any games of your own. That's some real cowardly shit right there.'
Kentavious nodded, a regretful look on his face. 'I won't argue with you because you're one-hundred percent right. This tournament was poorly formatted … on the other hand, it doesn't change anything. If the Longhorns and I had to play every game just like you, what difference would it make? What's the point of competing in such pointless affairs against an opponent that could never beat you. Just like you did today. You'd sour on this tournament very quickly if every game was like that, and believe me, I'm not being arrogant when I say every game would be even more meaningless for me until the championship.'
'I'd hate to hear what's he's like when he IS being arrogant,' Bella said, scowling at him.
Kentavious smiled at her and Ty stepped in his way. 'Speaking of the championship,' Kentavious said. 'It would really be a shame if you don't make it. It doesn't change much, I'm sure South Miami will be just as challenging, or lacking—I won't be sure of which until I step on the field against either of you—but it would be so much more exciting to go against a Cornerback rather than have a shoot-out with a clearly inferior Wide Receiver. So please, for my sake, don't fall before you reach me.'
Bella shuddered. She gave into the urge she'd been fighting since Kentavious showed up, or at least announced himself, and grabbed Ty's arm. 'We should go.'
Ty and Kentavious stared at one another. There was an unspoken challenge hanging in the air, and Ty didn't like the way Kentavious was staring down at him. It wasn't even the height difference, but how Kentavious held himself as if always standing on a pedestal, probably because he'd been surrounded by people who put him on one since before he could walk.
Ty still had plenty of energy to burn off. He wanted to accept that challenge—to join Kentavious for his workout—but knew it was a trap. Kentavious wasn't some scrub he could play with, he was a challenge that required one's full attention and preparation, not somebody to take on with no notice after already tiring yourself with a game; the little he'd already done would have to be enough.
'You'll have to show me your workout routine another time, Skywalker,' Ty said, grabbing his shirt and slipping it on.
Bella breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as if a bomb had just been defused. Kentavious, of course, looked disappointed but unsurprised.
'DM me and I'll fly you out for a session whenever you want, Black Hole.'
Bella hurried Ty out of the gym in case he changed his mind. Kentavious watched them every step of the way.
As they stepped back out into the hall, Bella looked at Ty. He looked more wound up than he had before entering the gym. She sighed, realised she was still clinging to his arm and quickly shoved him aside. He looked at her as if she'd slapped him.
'What? Don't give me that look,' she said. 'If you want to go back in there and have a gym date with your boyfriend go ahead and be my guest. I'm going back to my room.'
She started off with a huff, and Ty could only watch her go, his jaw almost on the ground. Boyfriend? What the hell was that supposed to mean? How could one girl be so confusing?