Friday night lights sparkled beneath a black-velvet sky.

Electricity permeated the air, passing from one fan to another, each person's voice adding to the crowd as a whole, building to a crescendo of living, breathing spectators. And I got to experience it all. There was a buzz of excitement as everyone anticipated the big game, number one Pineville versus number two Central. Everything leading up to this moment had mounted up in my mind to the size of Mount Everest. I was about to climb that gargantuan peak or freeze up in the higher elevations. It would be the life or death of my high school dreams. The winner would win the area championship for their region and lock up home field advantage for at least the first two rounds of the playoffs. So much was at stake. I could feel the heat bearing down on me, but I had every intention of rising to the occasion.

With so many things changing in my life, getting named the starting quarterback, garnering Layla Robinson's attention, and also catching the eye of Lexa Thorn, I felt a surge of energy and confidence changing me on the inside. I wondered how much of it came from the pill, or was it just me changing from the experience of it all?

I turned my gaze to the sky. The stadium lights lit up the football field as the team captains gathered on the fifty-yard-line around the wolf logo for the coin toss. With Pineville set to kick off, Elijah and Casper trotted back to the end zone nearest the field house where a pair of cheerleaders held up a giant paper sign that read Go Wolfpack! Beat those devils! Two lines made up of cheerleaders and some students stretched away from the huge banner, creating a path for the football players to run out onto the field.

In front of me, Koby Sanders shifted his weight from one foot to the other, getting amped up for the game like everyone else. I peeked around him at the bleachers on the home side, which stood three stories high with a press box on top. Fans of all ages filled the stands, overflowing onto the sidelines and leaning on the perimeter chain-link fence. Coming out of the field house, I had glimpsed the visitor's side and saw their large, but smaller set of bleachers, packed to capacity and overflowing, too.

Over the loudspeaker, the announcer said, "Let us pause for a moment of silence as we remember the loss Pineville suffered this week when a beloved student and football player, Austin Campbell, was taken from us tragically." After the moment of reflection passed, a girl came on the loudspeaker and prayed, and then the stadium came to life again.

The band boomed from their section of the home bleachers, ratcheting up the fervor and expectation of the game to come.

With Elijah, Casper, and Ryan at the front of the line, we burst through the paper banner and stormed the field, following the path made by the cheerleaders and fans. The band kicked it up a notch as we ran to the sideline and gathered near midfield, jumping and bumping helmets, getting riled up for the game. We wore red jerseys and pants with silver helmets, a wolf logo emblazoned on both sides.

A few seconds later, Central rushed the field, decked out in all white with scarlet helmets, their iconic pitchfork on both sides. This was the game we'd all been waiting for, and now it was here.

As the pregame excitement died down, I searched the crowd for my mom, who always sat near midfield, about halfway up. I found her and she gave me a wave. For whatever reason, I looked for Layla up in the stands, too. I spotted her with a group of friends. She had her head turned, talking to the person next to her, and never looked my way.

"Good luck, Evan," a female voice drew my attention as she passed by with a tiny wave of her hand and an excited smile. My eyes widened when I saw Lexa Thorn and her all-red cheerleader outfit. My tongue couldn't form a reply, but my heart kicked into rhythm as she bounced away, long hair held back in a ponytail.

As she joined the rest of the cheerleaders, a morbid thought struck me. What about Austin? He just died, and she's so quick to move on? But the other side of my brain made up an excuse. She was crying at the assembly on Monday and would be at the funeral tomorrow. Maybe she had to find something to make her happy, to keep her from sinking into depression. Maybe that someone was me?

"Mack!" Coach Steele said. "Get over here! Get your head in the game."

I made my way through a bunch of guys, slipping between shoulder pads to stand beside the coach as the kicker sent the football twirling through the air. A Central player caught it and charged forward, splitting the gap between a sea of red. And just like that, he was gone, racing down the sideline for a kickoff return for a touchdown.

Central players whooped and hollered, colliding with each other in celebration as their fans went crazy. But their enthusiasm waned when they missed the extra point and the score remained 6-0.

When we got the ball back, Coach Steele pulled me close. "You can do this. You prepared all week and now you have a little turbo boost to go with it." He grinned, reminding me of that predatory smile he gave me before I swallowed the pill. "Now get out there and make it happen!"

Out on the field, I lined up with the rest of my team, standing five yards behind Koby Sanders in the shotgun formation. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the first play wasn't on my shoulders. When the snap came to me, I handed it off to Casper Jones, who took the ball and raced through a gap in the defensive line. Twenty yards later, a defender dragged him to the ground.

On the next play, I fumbled the snap.

Maybe Koby didn't get the ball high enough? I don't know but it hit the ground and a Central player dove on top of it and recovered it.

"What's wrong with you, man?" Koby grabbed my jersey. "I'm not losing this game because of you."

I wanted to tell him the snap wasn't good, but he didn't look like he'd take that too well.

"Get it together, Mack," he said, jogging to the sideline.

On defense, the turnover fueled Elijah Ray and Ryan Dawson. The rest of the team rallied, too. On third down, Jacob Hamm, our biggest defensive linemen, weighing two-hundred-eighty pounds, crashed through blockers and laid the Central runner on his backside. The home crowd went nuts, and the Red Devils had to kick the ball back to us on fourth down.

Later in the second quarter, still losing 6-0, I dropped back to pass. I had overthrown a few earlier, but also made a couple of short passes that Blake snatched from the air like he had glue on his hands. But this time, my heart thundering in my chest, I knew I had to make a play.

I saw Blake slicing into the open on a quick slant. He had sprinted five yards and then cut toward the middle of the field. I was charged up on a super-buzz of adrenaline when I spotted him breaking free. I threw the ball like a laser... and he caught it. Before I knew it, he turned on the afterburners and raced away from everyone for a touchdown. Eighty yards!

The home crowd and the band kicked into celebration.

With the extra point good, and us leading 7-6, Blake said, "Nice throw, Mack Daddy!"

"It was a better catch."

"It was a pretty good catch and run." His face beamed wide enough to show all of his teeth.

Later in the game, Central completed a long pass that set them up close to the end zone. A few plays later, with seconds left in the half, they scored and reclaimed the lead 13-7.

When we took the field in the third quarter, I took the snap and dropped back to pass, but no one was open, not even Blake. The defensive line brought pressure from every side, except up the middle.

I saw an opening and darted through it, feeling adrenaline surging through my system, making me accelerate faster than normal. A linebacker dove at my feet, but I hurdled his outstretched arms. Before I knew it, I was angling for the far sideline, splitting the space between the defensive backs, running faster than I'd ever ran before. My legs pumped up and down, my feet pushing me ever closer toward the goal line...

As the last defender leaped toward me, I dove for the end zone and scored.

The home crowd and band erupted.

The cheerleaders jumped up and down, my teammates congratulating me. Blake gave me a high five. Then came Elijah, Casper, Ryan, and even Koby, nearly crushing me under their weight as they smashed into me. When I broke free, I saw my mom, waving and grinning. Then I saw Layla Robinson smiling and waving. Despite the way I had been standoffish about homecoming, she still found the desire to be happy for me.

"Way to go, Evan," Lexa Thorn hollered from among the other cheerleaders. Her head was tilted down with an inviting grin like before at the pep rally. She held her hand up, fingers bending in a subtle wave.

Heat rushed through me, and I smiled back, nodding.

We led 14-13, and then the fourth quarter started. Central marched down the field with play after play, running, passing, keeping our defense off balance. Then their quarterback pitched the ball to the running back. He acted like he was going to run with it, but pulled up to pass. The threat of the run drew Ryan Dawson in and allowed the wide receiver to get behind him.

The running back threw the ball.

It wasn't a pretty pass, but it sailed over Ryan's head and the receiver caught it and raced into the end zone for a touchdown. And just like that, Central was back in the lead 19-14 with less than three minutes to go. They went for a two-point conversion but didn't get it because Elijah Ray blitzed and sacked the quarterback.

Tension filled the air.

The area championship was on the line. Our hopes for another state title hinged on our last offensive possession.

After we returned the kickoff, Coach Steele caught me by the jersey. "It's all on you, Mack. If you lose this game, you can kiss the starting position goodbye. Now get out there and win it for your team. No excuses." He gave me a slap on the backside and pushed me out onto the field.

Coach Diggs signaled the play, and then I yelled it out to the rest of the team.

With the crowd rumbling in the bleachers, I caught the snap and dropped back to pass. Blake came open on the slant route again. I hit him in stride. He snagged the ball and sprinted like he was going to break free, but a defender hauled him down to the ground.

The play netted us seventeen yards, moving the ball to the forty-four-yard line. When the referees signaled ready for play, the clock started ticking again. By the time Coach Diggs got the next play in, there were less than two minutes left.

I called out the receiver formations and pointed for Casper to move to my other side. Then the snap came, and I reared back to pass, but a defensive player rushed around the end. I didn't see him soon enough, and he sacked me for a loss.

Koby jumped all over Casper for missing the block that could have given me more time to get the pass off. At least he wasn't blaming me for the bad play.

The clock dipped to less than a minute and a half.

Everyone was hollering for us to hurry and line up. I found myself telling players what to do, taking charge like the leader of the team was supposed to.

The next play began.

The offensive line held their blocks for a few seconds and then released them, allowing the defenders to get through with a path to sack me, but Casper had flared out to the side, waiting for the pass to come to him.

Before a slew of Red Devils reached me, I threw the ball and Casper caught it. With a host of blockers out in front, he slashed this way and that, avoiding Central players who dove at him but missed by inches.

He raced down the field, into Red Devil territory, finally getting brought down at the Central twenty-nine-yard line.

Another first down.

When the refs put the ball down and moved out of the way, the clock started ticking again. As we got the next play called in and we lined up in our positions, Koby snapped the ball with forty-three second left. This time, we ran the draw play up the middle, acting like we were going to pass, but handing off to Casper instead. He burst through the line of scrimmage but was dragged down at the twenty-four-yard line.

Central had not been fooled.

With less than thirty seconds and no timeouts, I ordered everyone into position. When the snap came, I took the ball and spiked it into the ground with twenty-three seconds left to stop the clock.

On the sideline, Coach Steele yelled out to us, "This is it." He peered at me. "Everything is on the line." Then he leaned in to talk to Coach Diggs.

With the pressure coming at me in waves, Diggs gave me the play.

I stared at Blake and nodded. He was ready. We were running the same play we had run in practice all week... the one I had missed time after time. But tonight, it had to work.

With everyone lined up, I surveyed the field, eyeing each defender, picking out a linebacker I suspected was going to blitz. I yelled at Koby, "Fifty-two's coming. You got him!"

Koby nodded and bent over the ball, ready to snap it.

I licked my lips. They were as dry as desert air, but adrenaline coursed through my veins, bringing everything into focus.

My vision sharpened and my anticipation homed in on the route Blake was about to run.

Twenty-three seconds left...

Central leading 19-14...

My time had come...

I clapped my hands twice and Koby snapped me the ball. As the play unfolded, I felt a surprising serenity rush over me. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as I swept my view from one side of the field to the other, trying to make the defensive backs think the pass was coming their way while Blake ran his route.

He blazed twenty yards downfield and made a sharp cut toward the corner of the end zone.

Just as he made his cut, I looked his way, reared my arm back, and threw the ball. The action slowed down so much I felt like I was zeroing in on him, like a sharpshooter aiming for the bullseye.

The ball arced through the air in a perfect spiral.

A hush came over the crowd as the ball fell into Blake's arms... and then the crowd exploded into celebration.

The band started up. With fourteen seconds to go, we had seized the lead, 20-19!

My teammates piled on top of Blake and the refs threw yellow flags for excessive celebration. But we didn't care.

Koby picked me up and about squeezed me half-to-death.

Casper let out a victory cry, "Let's go!"

Elijah and Ryan ran out onto the field, and we jumped into the air, bumping chests, knowing we were about to win the football game.

And when the clock hit zero, we did.

I couldn't believe it.

After the game, my mom gave me the biggest hug. Then I saw Layla walking toward me and I couldn't help but feel happy to see her. I started toward her, but Lexa stepped into my path to tell me how good of a game I had played. When I glanced up, Layla was walking away, and for some reason, disappointment washed over me.

I had the girl of my dreams standing right in front of me, but it was the girl who tinkered with cars that had me second-guessing what I really wanted. That was what I had to figure out before it was too late. What did I really want? Or better yet, who did I really want?

——

Chapter 8: 2,855
Story: 15,314