Benecio
"Boot, come here for a second, captain," Coach called me as I laced up my boots.
The locker room buzzed like a live wire. Orange and green jerseys hung open in the steel lockers, white tape and chalk marks streaked across the floor like battle scars. The boys were loud, laughing, slapping helmets together, dancing barefoot on the rubber mats. Someone had the aux blasting, and the smell of turf, sweat, and orange Gatorade hung heavy in the air.
It was the last game of the year, and you could feel it. Part celebration, part goodbye. I was relieved we'd get a few weeks' break, but I'd be lying if I said my chest didn't tighten thinking about coming back. We had to leave this team in a better place before graduation.
Besides that, my brain wouldn't shut up about the drafting season. It'd been all I looked forward to the entire year.
Until Dove.
