As the stadium took a collective breath, the air settled. The spectators needed the break almost as much as the players. The tension that had been prevalent throughout the whole game had taken its toll on even them; the players would've been at their breaking points.
Sixty minutes had come and gone, and no winner had been found. Both gladiators were still standing … but this was a fight to the death. Only one could leave the coliseum. The other would stain the gridiron as a legend not to be forgotten.
Despite their disasters, and the unexpected result, the Cobras were holding it together surprisingly well. Coach Swan was adamant there was nothing to worry about. Just because they were in OT didn't mean they'd lost, even without Richaun. They could, and WOULD, win … they just needed time to think of a plan. Coming up with one that didn't involve Richaun, yet still got them the win was the problem. Made even harder by the fact Lamar would be guarded by Tyrese.
In regards to Richaun, it was just about minimising the damage; hands were delicate things. Hopefully the injury wouldn't sideline him for long, and he'd be back at one-hundred percent for the start of next season.
The Cobras still had one saving grace—Colby. He was staring at nothing, blank-faced, wide-eyed. Someone unfamiliar with him could've mistaken the expression for him being petrified, shell-shocked, exhausted and on the verge of collapse, or any number of negative things, but Coach Swan knew he was more focused than ever.
Yes. If they still had Colby, they still had hope. She beckoned him over; he bent an ear towards her as she wrapped an arm over his shoulders. 'We need to win this toss. It's all down to you now, but if we get this ball, I know you can score. It's a full drive, none of that goal-line shoot-out crap, this is the big time. Can you handle it?'
His eyes bored into her, reading her, knowing she already knew it was a pointless question. Of course he could handle it.
'I still need that trophy, Coach,' he said.
She smiled, patting him on the head. ' 'Atta boy.'
The officials soon called the captains back to the middle—Jeremy replaced Richaun for the Cobras—before explaining the situation to both sides. There was to be a kickoff, and a drive as if they were still playing the game. Though the periods would be shortened to ten minutes, and they'd go until there was a decisive winner. The way to win, however, was whoever scored a touchdown first. On each side's first drive at least. After that, it'd change to the first side to score any points whatsoever. Forcing a Safety (by tackling an opponent in their own end-zone) could also end the game at any time. If the opening drive only resulted in a field goal, it was up to whatever offence came second to match or beat that score or they'd lose.
As the official droned on and on, Jay hung his head. The Cobras opposite him thought he was asleep on his feet. They were about half right. Yet Jay had spent countless classes in a state halfway between sleep and consciousness. In the end, he achieved a tiny amount of rest, but was also able to completely recall whatever nonsense the teacher had been badgering him and his classmates with.
The stance still drew a few annoyed glances from the officials, but JJ and Deshaun were there and clearly paying attention, so they didn't say anything. Since the Cobras were still treated as the "away team" it was their call for the coin toss.
'Tails,' Colby said, looking beyond the Dons present, his gaze focused on Ty who was still sitting on the bench.
The official flipped the coin high into the air, and it fell, tails side up. Colby smiled; the Cobras would receive the kickoff.
JJ's face dropped. He was prepared to join the offence again for this final do-or-die drive, but if he was worn out by another stint on defence, he might not be any use to them again. He shook his head. He couldn't think about that. The rest of the boys had already proved they could still score without him, and he had the Cobras to worry about. His brothers needed him and the defence to get a stop if they were to have any chance at all.
The captains all shook hands, sharing smiles as if they hadn't just spent sixty minutes at war with one another, then parted ways.
Most Dons groaned at the news. It was a gut punch with a blade sticking out of the fist. All their hard work over those sixty minutes, and it crumbled before them in an instant.
Ty wasn't one of them, however. The news brought a grin to his face. The kickoff couldn't be over fast enough to get him out there. It was his game to lose, and he still had a promise to keep.
As the teams prepared for the kickoff, Coach Hoang readied the defence. They'd be dropping back into a zone, with limited presence up front. The Cobras wouldn't win on the ground, he knew their only hope was through the air, and he wasn't going to give Colby even the slimmest of openings.
The kickoff resulted in a touchback, and soon Colby was marching onto the field to seal the game, and with it, his name in the history books. Ty marched on with a similar purpose, even if he was only focusing on what was in front of him; he'd already destroyed one special individual, what would it feel like if he took out two in one game?
The crowd was rejuvenated after the break, and they cheered as loud as they ever had when the teams took the field. Even without Richaun, his presence had stained the Cobras, and his taint drew boos in the thousands. Ty had somehow become the ultimate underdog in their eyes, and they were fully behind him.
It was all pointless, incomprehensible noise to him. Like sticking his head under running water. He blocked it out as he stood before Lamar again.
'You broke his fucking hand,' Lamar said, a scowl on his face. Maybe he was cracking under the pressure, maybe he hadn't thought Richaun's injury would be so bad, maybe he'd figured out Ty did it on purpose. Whatever it was, his attitude had shifted completely. 'You're gonna pay for that, motherfucker.'
Ty's tongue traced his teeth. 'I did. Now I'm going to rip your heart out.'
Lamar's scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists, but Ty saw only fear in his eyes; Lamar was already broken. His attention turned towards the middle of the field, where Colby stood, prepared for the snap. They met eyes. There was no fear in Colby's gaze, not even any hatred. All that existed within Colby was self-assurance and ego.
Ty grinned again. There was only one place the ball was going.
The snap sent the crowd into a frenzy. Knowing every play could be the last, the players didn't hold back at all, pushing themselves to their limits and even beyond as they slammed into each other. Ty backed off, still watching Colby; their eyes never left each other.
Lamar shot inside, but Ty hardly budged. There were too many bodies insides—even Donte had drifted back to fill a gap over the middle—not even Colby could work his magic through the middle; the pass would be outside.
The feint ended after a step when Lamar cut back out for a Corner. Ty was gliding across the field, as if ice skating; Lamar was colder than if he'd been running barefoot on ice. He looked back for the pass, and almost cried out. He was so far away from anyone. There was no help, no hope, no chance.
Ty watched the ball float towards them. Without the pressure of a chimera to distract him, he could view the pass in much more detail, it seemed slower too. It was beautiful, really, a perfect little dot. He slid in front of Lamar and snatched the comet from the sky as if it was a falling leaf.
Colby bit back a whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overcome him, starting towards the sideline. Maybe he could cut Ty off. Maybe the defence could still save them, give him another chance. There had to be a gap SOMEWHERE in Ty's defence, he just had to find it. … He didn't even bother with a second step. Ty took off, and he was gone. He blazed an unfollowable path into the end-zone. The game was over.
Ty had his pick-six; Colby had the worst game of his life; the Dons had their victory; and after Ty launched the ball into the stands, one lucky fan had a priceless memento.
The crowd swallowed Ty's scream. It was as if all their combined noise came from just his mouth in a thundering, earth-shaking roar. Ty hoped Richaun heard it, even down in the deepest pit of despair as he was.
The Dons' bench emptied. Time and time again Ty amazed them, always taking them to new heights. They fell over each other in their haste to catch up to him, smothering him in a pile.
Coach Hoang had his head in his hands, shaking uncontrollably. He couldn't help but laugh. No other response felt right after such a crazy game. Coach Long was in tears, as was Bella—again—though she showed hers openly while he alternated between wiping his away and blowing his nose into the same handkerchief.
The Dons' on-field celebration continued, for a good few minutes, though the boys eventually gained enough control over themselves to carry Ty back over to the sideline like he was some kind of emperor. They still had broad grins on their faces, and were vibrating with excitement when the teams lined up to shake hands.
No Cobra could meet Ty's eyes. He stayed at the back of the line, letting them dread his face for the whole time. His grip was as cold and crushing as ice. Most kept their sunken eyes lowered to the grass, but Colby looked straight on. He may as well have been blind for all those eyes saw as the moment Ty stole his championship away repeated in his head.
Ty laughed, keeping hold of Colby's hands until the officials stepped in to urge them apart. He wondered if there'd be video essays about Colby in the future. He could see it already—In high school he was ranked number one in the country. One year later, he was the worst player in college.
'What's that dumb look for, Samuels?' Coach Hoang asked.
'Just picturing our future as national champions, Coach,' Ty answered, still grinning.
'Don't get ahead of yourself, we're still a long way off from that.'
'Are we? It's only one more game before the championship.'
'Yeah, and you thought this game was tough? That one'll be even tougher, and even if we make it past that, we still have to win the damn championship.'
'You worry too much. Of course we're going to win. I just proved we're the best, didn't I?'
But before Coach Hoang could give Ty an answer that'd wipe the cocky grin right off his face, another voice cut in. 'Did I hear that right? Are the Dons staking their claim as the number one team in all of high school?'
It was none other than Julia Skye, with her trusty microphone in hand, and a camera looming just over her shoulder. Both were focused on Ty.
'We don't want any inter—' Coach Hoang begun, but Ty waved him off.
'Of course,' Ty said, giving the camera his nastiest grin—seeing those teeth sent chills through Coach Hoang. 'Weren't you watching? Even the biggest idiot, the dumbest, most die-hard Cobras fan would admit it. Tyrese Samuels is the greatest. Not just right now. Ever. I'm the GOAT. And whatever team I'm on, instantly becomes the best in the world. Everyone else can go home already. Nationals is ours.'
Ty stepped away, walking off towards the tunnel leading to the Dons' locker room. Coach Hoang hurried after him, face scrunched up.
Ms Skye watched them go, mouth hanging open. The mic slowly lowered, and she turned to the camera, eventually letting out an awkward laugh. She shrugged. 'You heard it from ANB Sport first, folks.'
That was what worried Coach Hoang most. Everyone would hear that eventually, no matter from where. Every statement Ty's dumb-ass made always came with unexpected consequences, and those consequences always fell on the team, not just him.
The ripples of Ty's latest challenge were already spreading far and wide.