After the kickoff, Sebastian caught the ball in the end-zone and looked around. He paused, then slowly lowered to a knee, downing himself for a touchback. He had a sour look on his face as he did so, but found it was easier to swallow his pride if he told himself he could do more damage from scrimmage than in a return.
The two teams flowed onto the field, each wearing a facade of calmness—the Longhorns had to steady their nerves, knowing they just had to finish strong; the Dons knew they couldn't afford to get overexcited and blow their last chance with a dumb mistake.
Ty and Kentavious stared each other down. The outside didn't matter. At that point, it felt as if they were the only people on the field. They may as well have been; they could determine the game themselves.
Actions would speak louder than words. Both Ty and Kentavious silently hunkered down into their stances. And then the ball was snapped.
Kentavious flashed inside, then out, fighting through the storm of spears Ty threw at him. They veered towards the sideline, drifting further outside. Dylan flipped the ball over. It was a quick pass, but deep enough. No-one else could interfere; not with the throw, or the catch.
Kentavious looked back, leaping without turning, as the ball dropped just over his back shoulder. But Ty was there, leaping with him, stretching out. They both claimed the ball, and Kentavious landed inbounds, dragging his feet. Yet he was also dragging Ty, who refused to let go, wrenching with all his might.
The ball popped loose, flying forward. Ty fell aside, and Kentavious carried onward, snatching the ball against his chest, tumbling over out-of-bounds. The Dons' faces dropped as officials closed in on the sideline where Kentavious had fell.
However, the signal they gave was not for a catch, but to say the reception was incomplete. In the brief moment the ball was up for grabs again, after Kentavious and Ty had caught it—neither having a strong enough hold to claim sole possession—Kentavious had stepped out, so when he re-secured the ball, it didn't matter.
Ty pushed himself up, sneering down at Kentavious. 'Serves you right. Some of us aren't happy to coast along with ties.'
Kentavious smiled and stood. Ty was right. Ironic, Ty wouldn't settle for a tie. Still, Kentavious should've expected nothing less from his rival.
'Of course,' he said, walking back with Ty. 'But what else would you expect from a nepo-baby like me who's been coasting through his entire life?'
Ty paused, turning his head fully towards Kentavious, who kept striding, continuing backwards as he turned to face Ty.
'Isn't it unfair I get rewarded for a tie? But that's the benefit of being king. You don't get my crown on a tie. You have to BEAT me.'
If it would've been possible for black to get darker, Ty's eyes would've darkened. Kentavious grinned wider, turning away, joining the Longhorns' huddle. Trash-talk was more fun than he thought, and if it pushed him and Ty to even greater heights, all the better.
At the snap, Kentavious darted inside on a quick Slant, then burst up. Ty was quick to spring back, bumping Kentavious outside, forcing him wider. He followed even as Kentavious stepped out, then continued up with his Sluggo right. Ty was all over the route, and when the ball came in, it was once again Kentavious's turn to wrench it away, preventing a turnover as they all tumbled to the ground.
The Longhorns were back on third down; Ty was winning again. He rolled away, standing. Firmly back in control, he sneered down at Kentavious. All signs were pointing towards the Dons making their defensive stand, and if things continued down that road, their offence completing their comeback wouldn't be too far behind. They could steal the win on their very next drive.
Kentavious frowned, sitting on the turf. He rested his arms on his knees, one hand loosely clasped over the other. Ty was extraordinary… though he was beginning to figure out just what made him "special", if it could be any one thing—Ty's growth was like an explosion. Yet it was a constant barrage, one after the other, sending him higher and higher; he was exponential.
Kentavious got up, returning to the huddle. Dylan's smile was tainted by anxiety. Without Morrison in the game, there was no longer that over-encompassing sense of trust between QB and WR.
Even amongst the rest of the team there was less hatred, and more fear in their gazes. Fear that the game really was slipping through their fingers, and there was little they could do. All but Sebastian, whose hatred and jealousy overrode all.
However, there was a reason Kentavious Senior had ensured his son ended up at Gordon to play for the Longhorns. They were an exceptional program—even before today, where they could prove they were the best in the country—and they had an exceptional coach.
On the sideline, there was still a level of panic, but a strange sense of calm settled over Coach Bourne. In these moments of heightened pressure and stress, some people reacted with a rush of adrenaline, and it was in this adrenaline Coach Bourne found tranquillity. The Longhorns had become too predictable, and that sense of just going through the motions and doing what was expected had clearly infected even Kentavious. If he was going to break his star out of this slump, and get him back to his best, then he'd have to do something the Dons would never expect; something that probably didn't even make sense given the circumstances… his gaze fell on Stu Grady.
The Longhorns were surprised by the call, though they hid it well by the time they lined up in formation again. Stu had returned to the backfield, though he frequently switched back and forth, even if he usually ended up as just another Receiver either way.
Dylan wiped his hands repeatedly as he awaited the snap, though they were always sweaty again a second later, which was to say nothing about their shakiness. The sideline with Kentavious was like a yawning void on the edge of his vision, one he had to consciously look away from.
'Set…S-Set-hike!'
He caught the snap, and all the responsibility of the game, and after posturing for a moment, gave it all away to Stu.
The Dons were already scrambling back, intent on defending the Longhorns' Receivers, who were all surging upfield. It felt assured they would look for another pass on third-and-ten, especially with how pass-heavy their offence already was. A Draw was perfect. Ty must've hated those plays as much as he hated ties.
Stu burst forward, keeping his head down, not focusing on the moment, just keeping his legs moving forward. He was untouched for a lot longer than he expected, but even when the first Don came, he braced himself and barrelled through them with all of his momentum. He crashed forward, bouncing from one Don to the next, before he was finally brought down. However, it was only after passing the first-down marker that he fell.
A gasp exited the stadium. In part it was one of relief, though for others—most, really—it was one of disappointment.
The clock started to tick down, draining valuable seconds from the Dons' hopes of coming back. And while the Longhorns weren't in a rush to get back to their huddle and start the next play, nor were they egregiously running out the clock.
Riding the momentum of their successful Draw, they gave the ball back to Stu on another run, this one without any trickery as he shot through the middle again. However, the Dons had recovered quickly, and were back to their disciplined and focused structure, ready for anything. They collapsed on him quickly, and held his second run of the drive to just 2 yards.
If the Longhorns were going to continue this drive, it wouldn't be on the ground. They'd have to secure their victory through the air… though Dylan still couldn't look Kentavious's way. Fortunately for him, Sebastian was more than willing to take the spotlight.
At the snap, Sebastian had free reign, as Deshaun was still backing off, wary and watchful. A feint inside got Deshaun to bite, before Sebastian cut out, blowing by on a Corner route, angling deep outside to fade away from Sonny.
Dylan lobbed the ball over, and Sebastian twisted around, bending back, planting his feet just inbounds as he stretched out and made the grab, falling over the sideline 15 yards from the Line of Scrimmage.
The Longhorns were past half-field, and clawing back the momentum. Though with Sebastian falling out-of-bounds, the clock was stopped; the faintest of silver-linings on an otherwise foreboding storm cloud.
But Sebastian wasn't done after just one catch. Another Jet Sweep was a surprise, though perhaps it would've worked better without the earlier surprise of the Draw putting the Dons on edge. Thankfully, they wrangled Sebastian down before he could fully break away, and kept the damage to 6 yards.
Inspired, the Longhorns kept piling on the pressure. Another pass came on second down, with Sebastian flashing across the middle, drawing JJ's eye, allowing Wyatt to slip by to the outside and reel in a quick, 5-yard catch to get another set of downs.
Attacks were coming from everyone and everywhere, putting the Dons in a maze of thorns for the first time in a long time. So when on the following play, all three of Wyatt, Kentavious, and especially Sebastian, crossed paths deep in the middle of the field—with a Go route from Wyatt, a Post from Kentavious, and a deep In going the opposite way from Sebastian—the Dons were mixed up on who the biggest threat was.
A play like this was where Donte had to save his team. He couldn't give the QB time for such a mixup to develop. But it was so hard fighting through a double-team. He wasn't satisfied with excuses, however, and forced his way through, moulding Lachlan into the path of his fellow Linemen, before jumping around outside. Yet just before Dylan was sacked, he threw the ball away.
Incidentally, the mad scramble downfield had covered all three of the Longhorns' major threats, yet none of them had been the real target. Dylan's eyes were much lower, as he found Stu underneath, who'd slipped into space out wide; no-one was within even 10 yards of him.
So he rushed ahead freely, and dove down after a gain of 16 yards, staying inbounds, and keeping the clock running. Time wasn't even the only problem anymore. The Longhorns were jumping ever closer to the end-zone; ever closer to that last game-sealing score.
The double-sided threat was just another layer of pressure weighing the Dons' down, slowing not just their feet, but their minds as well. Thankfully, they were still vigilant, and the Longhorns got too fancy, going to the well too quickly with another Jet Sweep.
It was Ty who shut this one down. Bursting away from Kentavious's block, using Kentavious as a launch pad to throw himself at Sebastian before he could fully turn upfield. He wrapped Sebastian up, and dragged the squirming, struggling, spinning boy down only a yard beyond the Line.
And the game was at the two-minute warning… the final two minutes.
Sebastian retreated to the Longhorns' bench. Humiliated again. Stopped by Tyrese without even being directly guarded by him once more. Beaten so offhandedly, dismissively… it pissed him off! He was fuming throughout the break, though he vowed to make up for his failure.
Elsewhere the Dons were catching their breath. Coach Long reminded them to take things easy, one-play at a time. They were to let him worry about the clock, as they had more important things to look after.
Ty glanced around, frowning. Would they let him down now of all times?
Bella stood off on her own, praying fervently but quietly. It felt like everyone was watching, waiting, and holding their breath.
Both teams returned to the field, Sebastian leading the way for the Longhorns this time. He stomped across the field, trying to leave his mark with every step. How else would anyone remember he was even at this game, Ty thought.
The Longhorns wasted little time, already knowing what their plan was. Dylan took the snap, and was once more looking for Sebastian, who blew past Deshaun again with a double move. Dylan fired the ball over quickly, wanting to get it there before the Safeties could cover.
Sebastian grinned, eyes flicking across the field, settling on Kentavious and Ty along the opposite sideline. How fitting and deserving. Tyrese refused to guard him for the entire game, and it was HIM—not Kentavious—who was going to secure the game-winning touchdown.
The ball thudded into Sebastian's hands, and bounced off as he was turning upfield. So focused was he on this "deserved touchdown", and rubbing it in both Ty and Kentavious's faces, that he'd taken his eyes off the ball, and dropped it.
He stumbled, flailing at the ball as it fell to the ground, kicking it away after it'd landed. He came to a dead stop, staring at the ball as it bounced and rolled away. Everyone's eyes bored into him, and he just stood there, frozen.
Ty scoffed, looking at Kentavious pityingly. 'Is this really the second best option you guys have?'
'Would it make a difference if he was stronger?' Kentavious said. 'It still comes down to us.'
And he was right. With Sebastian's struggles, and the Longhorns facing another third down, Dylan finally swallowed his fears, and looked Kentavious's way again. Ty was strong, yes, but Kentavious was stronger. That's all Dylan had to tell himself.
The two faced off, staring through one another before the snap. At Dylan's sharp cry, they jumped. Ty glided backwards, and Kentavious thundered forward. Each step came before thought, as instinct was firmly behind the wheel, driving both boys onward.
Ty leaned more heavily towards the outside, feeling that was where Kentavious would go. Kentavious was the type who wanted to score, not just once but as much as possible. Even with less than two minutes to go, and already having a lead, he wasn't thinking about "winning", he was thinking about SCORING. He needed more time to score more, so he'd preserve the clock by trying to get out-of-bounds.
Of course, Kentavious was more complex than that. He wouldn't be so straight-forward, and seeing the outside was sealed off—and that it was Ty's domain in the first place—he'd try to preserve time by going for the kill through the middle in one play.
When Kentavious shimmied outside, Ty feigned back as if scared, so when Kentavious shot towards the inside, Ty pounced, seeing Dylan's arm pulling back. Ty couldn't just stop the Longhorns, he had to force a turnover, and keep this game within one score if the offence were to have any hope.
But Dylan didn't let loose. He pulled the ball back down, and Kentavious jerked not to a halt, but a smooth, immediate reversal of his momentum, pushing back outside. Dylan, after a quick double-clutch, flicked the ball over.
Ty slammed a foot down and shot back, flailing. The ball stretched over his hands, and into Kentavious's grasp, though Ty fell into him, preventing him from carrying the ball up the sideline, forcing him to stretch across the line just to barely pass the first-down marker.
In a battle of instincts, Kentavious wasn't lacking. They were both wild, yet calculated players, but with Kentavious's obsessive film studies—and having so much more tape on Ty in a variety of struggles, seeing him pushed to the brink again and again, having to overcome, and adapt against a vastitude of opponents—gave him a deep understanding of Ty's game.
Of course Ty wouldn't think he'd go outside, because he'd already gone that way, stripped away Ty's ownership of the sideline. The clock winding down made the outside the obvious choice. How else could the Longhorns get another possession, and Kentavious another chance to go against Ty? But Kentavious knew Ty knew all of that, so that was why he HAD to go Out, even if it should've been "obvious"; ironically, it was that obviousness which made it the least likely choice.
Ty pushed himself back up, grimacing, and casting a glare back at Kentavious, who watched him closely but said nothing. Ignoring the ache in his leg, Ty strode back to the huddle. At least forcing Kentavious out had stopped the clock, and bought the Dons extra time to recover and plan.
Ty's gaze darted around the Dons' huddle. He couldn't blame his teammates; couldn't be angry with them. They never should've come this far in the first place, but they'd been winning, and they hadn't let him down. HE was the one who had let THEM down. None of them were special, not individually; Ty had realised all too late that the DONS were special.
They'd almost had it. If Ty hadn't given up that last touchdown the game would be tied…tied. Just like that touchdown. Would a tie favour the better offence in overtime as well?
It was no use thinking like that now, he still had a job to do. Skywalker will try to score. Ty still had his chance for redemption; the Dons could still win. Ty looked at the scoreboard. They'd have to move quick.
7 points. Just one touchdown. Such a small lead, but even a one-point difference would mean victory. Ty shook his leg out, grimacing at the annoying stabs of pain that niggled through his brain. He wasn't hurt. Just two more minutes.
The huddles broke apart. Ty stalked Skywalker over to the sideline, planted into his stance, and snarled at Skywalker. They were opposites, Ty a raging beast, steaming under the bright lights. Skywalker reflected those lights, statuesque, or more like an ice sculpture, sparkling like a star.
Ty's snarls spiked in volume before they started to quiet. A slow process, like a chainsaw powering off. They never fully left, but became a low grumble as Ty sought that special place. He was one with the field, one with the ball, one with Kentavious, one with himself. He was THE ONE.
The temperature dropped. It was like frost had exploded out from Ty, consuming him, and everything nearby. The turf whitened.
A calm heat spread from Kentavious. Blue-white flames danced languidly, holding the frost at bay.
Another difference between them was that when Ty was in this state of oneness, he appeared to pull in and distort the light around him. Everything was darker. The Black Hole nickname was fitting.
Kentavious—and the air around him—conversely, grew brighter. He wasn't just a Skywalker, not even a Starwalker, he was a star. The real Supernova. What better rival for a black hole? They were destined to compete against one another.
The world was frozen around the two boys. Rather than the snap setting everyone back into motion, it felt more like Ty and Kentavious reanimating started the chain reaction.
Kentavious's feet stabbed at the field, the steps thunderous in Ty's ears. Inside-outside, a quick one-two that Ty could barely see, but followed. He stuck with Kentavious, matching him as close as if they wore the same uniform; they weren't twin comets streaking across space, they were one.
KenTyvious raced up the sideline towards the end-zone. Inside-outside again, a sharper turn, but then a turn back up towards the back corner of the end-zone. Skywalker leapt, turning back for the ball as he flew through the air. Ty planted himself, the world slowing around them, even as Kentavious powered through like a rocket. Ty jumped, twisting—
POP!
Ty tilted sideways, one leg collapsing as the other sprung up. He barely got off the ground. Kentavious's eyes darted down at him, a frown marring his stoic concentration. Concern turned to shock when Ty latched onto him and yanked him from the stars.
They crashed, the ball sailing over them. Kentavious was back up before the flags hit the field, but Ty was still down. He'd rolled over, face in the turf, muffling a scream as he trembled. Kentavious looked down at him, shock evaporating as his emotional roller-coaster continued. He stepped back, staring at Ty like whatever just happened was contagious.
Ty writhed on the ground, chewing through his mouth guard as he pounded his fists against the turf. That was it…it was over. He lay on the cold grass, sinking into it. Down deep below the Earth. Right where he belonged.
He could die right there and it wouldn't make a difference.