Ezekiel's POV
Days until the Friday night game that could change everything.
Days until the college recruiter would be sitting in those bleachers, watching every move I made on that field. Sure, Anton would be out there too, but this was my shot. My one chance to prove I wasn't just another small-town quarterback destined to fade into nothing after graduation.
And I was screwing it all up.
Coach's words from yesterday's disaster of a practice still rang in my ears like a death sentence.
"Enzo! What the hell are you doing out there?"
He'd torn me apart after I botched a basic play that I could execute blindfolded. I'd tried to bounce back, tried to find my rhythm again, but everything felt off. Like my hands forgot how to grip the ball and my feet forgot how to move.
Ezekiel Enzo doesn't fall apart. Ezekiel Enzo doesn't choke.
But yesterday, that's exactly what happened.
