Page 24 of Hometown Touchdown
“I thought so too.”
The silence that followed felt like a thousand unsaid things hung between us, all of them heavy and heartbreaking.
He didn’t argue. He didn’t beg. That might’ve been the worst part.
“Good luck out there,” he said finally, staring at the floor. “Make it worth it.”
I left before I could fall apart, before I thought better of it and stayed. That was what was best for us—for me. I just couldn’t be a woman on the sidelines.
Back in my living room, I close my eyes and press the heels of my hands into them until the tears go away. My head is a mess. My heart is trying to heal after leaving Seattle while my soul still feels wrecked by moving back home and all of the memories of my past.
Knox Dalton was always the best thing about this town.
And now, he’s the hardest
Chapter eleven
Knox
Thelockerroombuzzeswith nervous energy. Shoulder pads clack. Cleats scuff against concrete. My boys are wound tight, jittery but focused.
Cam stands front and center like he owns the place. Backward cap. Animated hands. That preacher voice of his turned all the way up.
“All right, listen up!”
Voices fall quiet. All eyes shift to him.
“I know you’ve heard the noise. Mountain Top’s undefeated. Bigger school. Flashier field. Hell, their quarterback already got offered D1.”
Someone mutters, “Yeah, we know.”
Cam grins. “Good. Let them believe their own hype. Let them walk out there thinking they’ve already won. And then go out there andmake them regret underestimating you.”
Heads lift. Shoulders square. He’s got their full attention now.
“You’ve been grinding since August. You’ve puked in trash cans, run hills until your legs gave out, and still showed up the next day. That means something.Youmean something. This game? It’s yours for the taking.”
He pauses for effect, letting the silence settle.
“So go out there and ruin their perfect record. One block, one play, one damn second at a time.”
The room bursts with whoops and fist bumps.
I step forward, clipboard forgotten.
Cam looks over at me and nods. “Your turn, Coach.”
I clear my throat. I hate speeches. I’d rather diagram twenty plays on a whiteboard than stand here and talk about feelings. But they deserve it.
“Fellas.”
They all quiet down again. It’s not the same kind of electricity Cam pulls from them. Mine is quieter. He gets them fired up. I make them listen.
“I don’t say this kind of stuff a lot. You know that. But I need you to hear me.”
I look around the room, meeting their eyes one by one.
“I’ve played on a lot of teams in my career, but only coached one. In my career, I saw a lot of players come and go, saw different dynamics. But this group? You’ve got grit. You’ve got heart. And tonight, you’ve got the chance to prove thatit’s not about rankings or numbers or anyone’s damn Twitter following.”
