Sonny's head was in his hands as he shuffled off the field amidst the rest of the Dons' defence. Others gathered around him, patting him on the back. The onus wasn't on him alone; it was a mistake on the whole.
If one person could've been blamed for the Cobras' touchdown, that person was Coach Hoang. He hadn't thought the gap in their defence would've been big enough for the Cobras to exploit; he should've known better.
There was a breakdown in communication, yes, and theoretically Sonny should've covered Lamar, but was that even an outcome the Dons wanted? Would the Cobras not salivate at having Lamar versus Sonny one-on-one in the deep?
The extra-point attempt after the touchdown was a success, pushing the score out to 7–14, securing the Cobras' lead at a single touchdown. Yet in such a scrappy game, that could be all they needed.
Still, the Dons only needed one play to go their way, and the lead would evaporate. Chris tried to find that play on his kickoff return, but was stuffed back at the 20-yard line by the Cobras' rapid chase down. If a miracle play was to occur, it'd have to come from the offence.
Coach Long wasn't worried about miracles, however. There was still plenty of time left in the game—the Cobras' drive hadn't even taken five minutes from the clock—and the Dons' offence had some new tricks as well.
However, to show off those changes, they'd first have to figure out what was different with the Cobras' defence.
Cameron was still on the field, JJ likewise as his double duty continued into the second half. A blast up the gut seemed the perfect opener, even if predictable.
Following JJ's lead, Cameron picked up 3 yards. An okay result, but one both teams could live with; the Dons needed more from the ground.
Coach Long was willing to try again on the ground, and stuck with Cameron on a Power run, though the play had diminishing returns as he only picked up 2 yards.
Third and 5, the Dons would have to throw. The outside was their target.
Jay hoped Stephen could get into the game. He scanned the defence before the snap; the Cobras were twitchy, but they didn't appear nervous. Nor could he tell how their defence would be different compared to the first half. They were still focusing on stopping the run, but the DBs had been capable on their own so far.
The ball was snapped, and he dropped back, scanning the field again. Benny sucked more Cobras into the middle of the field, whilst JJ stayed back to protect. Chris slipped out into the flat for a checkdown, as the Maclin brothers came screaming through the line. Cole didn't have a step on his man, neither did Stephen along the other sideline, but the height advantage was still there.
Fading away from the pressure, Jay lobbed the ball high over to Stephen. It was a tall, looping arch, one Stephen took time to adjust to, and so did his defender, #20. The Cobras' returner was also their tallest CB, which gave him the assignment of guarding Stephen. His speed advantage easily closed whatever openings Stephen caused with his positioning and route-running.
Perhaps the pass was a touch off, perhaps there just wasn't any opening at all, but #20 got a hand to the ball, and knocked it away from Stephen's grip, causing the incompletion.
A three-and-out was not how the Dons had planned to start their attack in the second half, especially after the Cobras scored a touchdown on their opening drive, but things didn't always go to plan.
As the Dons' offence trudged off the field, it was clear the momentum had fully gone over to the Cobras. Worry started to seep into the Dons. Pervasive, and all-encompassing.
Coach Norman was concerned about the Cobras' defence. It wasn't supposed to be an impenetrable wall, but it was turning in to one. Likewise, Jay and the rest of the offensive players shared the same fear.
Those on the defensive side of the ball were worrying too, though Coach Hoang was hurriedly ordering players around, gesturing wildly at a formation he'd drawn up on a miniature whiteboard—Zayden would drop back to fill the gap the Cobras had most recently exploited, but if that was to work, Coach Hoang needed a lot of effort from Deshaun and Ty to keep any outside runs in check.
Coach Long worried for the boys' well-being. A loss was always tough, but this final loss would be devastating. Every game mattered, every extra day they could all spend together mattered.
Bella's worry was about someone's well-being, too. Though hers was focused strictly on Ty. The game was slipping away from them, from HIM, and the Cobras had beaten the Dons without having to interact with him. He'd done his job and neutralised their best Receiver, and that still wasn't enough.
A few niggling worries resided in the back of Ty's mind. The game was looking bleak. The Cobras could avoid him and still win … but would they? He squashed his worries back. Whilst the Dons punted the ball over to #20, who had to settle for a fair catch, Ty's eyes never left the Cobras' bench. He knew there was one Cobra who wasn't satisfied with how things were going. Could the rest ignore him? He doubted it. Despite not being a gambler, he would've bet good money that they'd placate Richaun's ego.
When Ty stood to join the rest of the Dons' defenders as they approached the field, a chill ran down Bella's spine. She watched Ty's cold, distant figure grow colder and more distant without ever shrinking, and couldn't help but smile. What was there to worry about when he was on their team?
Opposite, Richaun was raging hot, screaming in Colby's face as the two led the Cobras' offence onto the field to start their next drive at their own 18. Colby hoped to grow their lead. So did Richaun, but only if he was the one responsible.
'I swear to god if you don't' give me the ball on this drive, nigga!'
Colby wanted to ask what would happen, what would Richaun do to him? Nothing was the most likely answer, despite all his bravado and threats, Richaun wouldn't dare start a physical fight with HIM; they both knew where Coach Swan's true allegiance lay, let alone the rest of the team.
But Richaun kept on yelling. Colby's eyes flicked to the scoreboard. They had a lead, and the Dons weren't going to score again. He could waste one more drive throwing to Richaun, what harm could there be in that? Maybe another taste of failure would shut him up for the rest of the quarter at least.
'I can beat this nigga but you gotta throw—'
'ALRIGHT!' Colby groaned. 'Just shut the fuck up. If you don't beat him this time I'm not throwing to you again.'
Richaun barked with laughter. 'Whatever. Just fucking throw a ball I can catch. I'll do the rest.'
Colby grunted, staring disdainfully at Richaun's back as they took their positions in the formation. He didn't like throwing away any drives, especially not when there was nothing to learn from them; If there was any time for Richaun to surprise him …
The Dons' eyes still blazed with determination in the shadows of their helmets as they stared across at their enemies. Only Ty's gaze was cold. Richaun didn't notice the chill in the air around him, nor how distant everything else felt when standing so close to him.
The ball was snapped, recognition still eluded Richaun as he lashed out, lunging for Ty. Ty back-stepped easily, countering Richaun with a jab to the chest that landed flush. The two drifted downfield, with Richaun twisting back for a feint before exploding forward. Ty briefly hesitated, but remained on top of the Vertical.
Colby watched them race down the sideline. Could it be called a race when one was so comfortably winning? Watching them was … strange. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about them seemed off, like they were further away than they should've been? Or … maybe they were closer?
He shook the strange feeling out of his head. His focus shifted to the hashes they ran outside of. He knew just how far away they were. He let the ball fly. Despite Richaun's insistence on throwing a ball he could catch, Colby still aimed for the one spot he knew Tyrese couldn't reach. Whether or not Richaun could catch such a pass was up to him.
Richaun glanced back over his shoulder, and stumbled. He recovered in a step, but his mind scrambled to make sense of what he saw. The ball was more like a satellite falling through the atmosphere. Why was everything so far away?
Ty breathed calmly as he adjusted, drifting further past Richaun, taking the prime position away from him. The damn ball was too high, falling too far. Everything faded away to darkness, even Richaun as Ty's focus homed in entirely on the ball.
Richaun snarled as he leapt, stretching back, both arms extended. Even if he had to crash and burn, he'd haul the ball in and prove he was the best. He COULD beat Ty.
Ty jumped. It was more like a backwards dive. Both hands came up, but then one dropped down as the other extended all the way. His body arched and fingertips stretched, searching for every little bit of extra length he could manage.
The ball's flight faltered as it dropped—perhaps faster, and more sharply, than it should've—only one person expected the rapid descent. Colby stared bewildered. Did he underthrow it ever so slightly? Maybe he'd calculated wrongly and underestimated Ty. Or maybe Ty's reach had expanded somehow. Whatever the cause, he was helpless as he watched the ball plummet into Ty's grasp.
Richaun crashed on top of Ty, almost jarring the ball loose as Ty's arm snaked around it and brought it to his chest. For how slowly the ball had drifted through the air, everything sped up after the crash, as if making up for lost time.
Richaun and Ty bounced and skidded, the former twisting atop the latter, wrenching at the ball, desperate to get a hold of it even if it meant ripping Ty's arm off.
Officials rushed in, whistles blaring, signalling for the interception. An interception. The first Colby had thrown that season. There had to be some kind of mistake. He pushed through the trailing players, most standing and staring in shock as they tried to comprehend what they'd just witnessed.
'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!' Colby screamed.
Richaun and Ty were still fighting over the ball. Richaun, now back on his feet, was yanking so forcefully he lifted Ty from the turf each time, but Ty's grip was more absolute than death. Officials were trying to pry them apart, but that was as hopeless as Richaun's attempts to pry the ball from Ty's hands.
'That's my fuckin' ball you worthless-ass, shitty little nigga!'
Colby tackled Richaun, finally pulling him away from Ty, as JJ arrived at the same moment, easily lifting Ty to his feet and dragging him away from the scuffle.
Colby was still screaming in Richaun's face, and Richaun was firing back obscenities. Both were so loud and irate, their voices drowned the other out, turning their argument into a jumbled, incoherent mess. Even as the rest of the Cobras' gathered around them and moved them back to the bench, eventually separating the two, their argument continued.
Ty watched, still hugging the ball to his chest as JJ dragged him across the field to the Dons' bench. He laughed, heartily and almost as loud as either of their shouts. He had his interception. There was no way Richaun and Colby could work together again. The ball was Ty's, and with it, so was the game.
Chaos was engulfing the Cobras' sideline as they worked to keep Richaun and Colby from one another.
'What the fuck was that?!' Colby repeated.
'A shitty fuckin' pass, dumbass!'
Even with Coach Swan getting between the two, nothing could settle them.
'You think that was my fault? You're dumber than retarded. This shit isn't on me. I didn't throw an interception all year until you pick a fight with someone so far above your level its not even funny!'
'Me? You think this shit is on me? If I had a real QB none of this shit woulda happened! Number one prospect my ass! You ain't shit nigga. Just a hyped up white boy.'
'There it is. You can't handle the fact you're number two. Well congratulations, Richaun, you're not! You don't even deserve to be ranked third.'
'You motherfucker!'
Both boys were escorted to opposite ends of the bench as multiple staff members barked orders at the team.
On the other side of the field, the energy couldn't be more opposite. Ty's interceptions always inspired his team, and that day was no exception. But it was like there were feeding off the negative energy from the Cobras' bench, fuelling their own high thanks to it.
'That's what I'm fuckin' talkin' 'bout!' Deshaun shouted, slapping Ty's helmet. 'WOOO! You showed that piece of shit who the real number one is.'
Ty hadn't stopped grinning since the ball touched his hands. It was an infectious smile, spreading to the other Dons nearby. Most of the defence rallied around him, slapping his pads and helmet. Bella's heart was thumping in her chest, but as she glanced back at the Cobras, she knew there was still a job to do.
The scoreboard was still in the Cobras' favour; she hoped it wouldn't remain that way for long. In order to accomplish such a reversal of fate, she pulled the Receivers around her.
'Look at them—' she didn't need to point out who "them" was '—they think they're so great because they train against that extra loud jackass over there. The second best Receiver. They think you guys look like chumps next to him. But why does that matter? You guys train against the best Cornerback every day. Are you gonna let those dickheads stop you when you know you can beat the best defence there is?!'
'Hell nah, Coach Short,' Stephen said. He grinned down at her glaring face, but didn't dare pat her head lest she bit his hand off. 'We're not losing to a team that'll attack one another. We're family.'
The other boys echoed the word, and soon streamed past Bella onto the field. She took a deep breath, watching them line up, fighting back tears.
The Receivers had to lead the way, but for that to happen, Cameron needed to give them the opening. This frame of mind made Coach Long give the order for Play-Action on first down.
At the snap, JJ rushed through the Line, selling the run strong as he burst into the gap, then settled and filled it. Cameron grabbed only air, then slipped out to the flat, as Benny—the target—pushed a Cobra further inside, then broke upfield, drifting, FADING, towards the outside. His route brought him right under Stephen's own race along the sideline, occupying the space the big man left behind.
Jay lobbed the ball over, and Benny kept his outside leverage, blocking off the DB until the last moment, where he stretched overhead and snagged the ball from the sky. The Cobra wrenched at his arms and hands, but Benny held on tightly, refusing to let the ball go as they tumbled out of bounds.
The reception was good for 17 yards; it was the Dons' biggest play so far, and brought them just outside the red-zone. It was the injection of life and energy they needed. Momentum was swiftly swinging back in their favour.
The next play was an actual run, Cameron and JJ continuing their grind in the trenches as they battled for another 3 yards, keeping the defence occupied with stopping his run; keeping the sidelines exposed.
A touchdown was within reach. Stephen could feel it there, just beyond his outstretched fingertips; glory was his for the taking. The only thing standing in his way was #20. Stephen stared down at the Cobra.
#20 stared back, unwavering. One could almost forget he was standing with his heels dangling over the edge of a crumbling cliff.
A Corner route was the call. Stephen knew the ball was coming his way no matter what. Jay would put it in a good place, it was up to him to win the ball and earn the touchdown that came with it.
The ball was snapped, and Stephen rushed forward and in as #20 backpedalled, staying out of his reach. Stephen straightened for a moment, then cut out at an angle, looking back over his shoulder. The ball was on him faster than he expected, faster than it should've been.
Immanuel Maclin had slipped back outside instead of worrying about reinforcing the middle. Despite the Dons' attempts to keep their focus with Cameron's runs, the Cobras were shifting back to the outside. Jay had got rid of the ball earlier than planned to avoid a sack, lobbing the ball just over Immanuel's outstretched hand. It wasn't a good pass. #20 was in the best spot to secure it. But at least it gave Stephen a chance. That's all he needed.
Stephen flattened his route, adjusted his stance, then launched into the air. He bent sideways in the air, stretching across the Cobra, stretching up with him. Both got hands to the ball, but Stephen came down like a sack of bricks, curling around the ball, forcing it from the Cobra's hands as they crashed. He tightened his grip rather than loosened after the impact.
The reception was good for 13 yards, but still left them a few short of the end-zone. Most importantly, the Dons still possessed the ball.
Jay rallied the offence around Stephen, knowing that catch was all him, making sure the rest of the boys saw it that way, too. 'Good shit … big man.'
Stephen laughed. 'Not your best pass, but it was still an easy catch. That bitch ain't got nothing on Ty.'
Jay laughed. Ty ate passes like that. Lob a duck up like that with him on the other team, and you were begging for a pick-six.
Coach Long's play-call surprised Jay. More surprised—and concerned—faces spread around the huddle when he explained the call, but Jay was confident. Coach Long knew what he was doing, and Jay knew his brothers would get the job done no matter what was asked of them.
The Dons' formation remained the same before the snap. Cole and Stephen were spread out wide, with Benny tucked in close, and JJ and Cameron filling the backfield.
At the snap, Cole and Stephen both went straight for opposite corners of the end-zone, even Benny made a beeline for a pylon. Jay dropped back, eyes scanning the field … and then he let Cameron snatch the ball from him.
JJ led the way through the Line, hitting the first gap hard and smashing it open further as he ploughed through. The Maclin brothers were curving around the outside, leaving the middle of the field vulnerable. JJ had almost reached the end-zone by the time the first Cobra engaged him. He bowled them right over, landing on top of them. Cameron was close behind him, leaping over the wreckage, diving into the end-zone.
The Dons had scored, and though it was once again Cameron finding paydirt, this touchdown belonged to Stephen, Cole, and—most importantly—Ty.