With the way the Longhorns were panicking on the sideline, you'd have thought the Dons had just taken the lead, instead of simply bringing the game to a score of 37–27.
Kentavious seemed to be the only one unaffected by the touchdown, even if it had been his direct opponent who had scored it.
Morrison was shaking, planted on the bench with his helmet off, head in his hands. Coach Bourne loomed over him, shouting in his ear. 'How can you have this many turnovers when you have the simplest job a Quarterback could hope for?! All you have to do is throw it up high enough that only the best Wide Receiver in high school can catch it! A shit-hurling monkey could do your job!'
Kentavious's smile faded, quickly replaced with a scowl. He stared towards Coach Bourne, but was blindsided by Sebastian, and shoved to the ground.
'You just had to fuck it up again because that's all you ever do, isn't it?' Sebastian shouted. 'Even with all the chances in the world, it's never enough! No matter how bad you screw everything for the rest of us, you need more and more and more!'
Kentavious turned over. His scowl softened to impassivity. 'I don't care if you're upset by your own mediocrity. If you were worthy of anything, you'd get it. The only part I play in having the ball thrown to me, or being guarded by the best, is because I AM the best.'
'You're so fucking full of it.'
Other coaches and coordinators moved in between the boys, keeping things from escalating.
'But I'm right,' Kentavious said. 'You don't have a problem with me, you have a problem with yourself.'
He looked at Morrison again. The boy was staring back, and quickly wiped his face, helping Kentavious to his feet. Coach Bourne had stopped shouting at him, but his attention wasn't held by the new argument which had already been defused. No; he was looking towards the field. Kentavious followed his gaze, and saw the Dons' offence heading out. They were going for two.
'Defence! Get out there, now!' Coach Bourne yelled, setting his players scrambling onto the field, pulling on their helmets as they rushed out into formation.
Coach Long had finally been persuaded by Coach Norman's line of thinking, as the OC had once again made his case for a two-point conversion. This time, he was convinced they could capitalise on the surge of momentum Ty's pick-six had brought, which could almost be seen as a physical wave washing away his teammates' weariness and despair.
It was a strong point, though the thing that pushed Coach Long over the line was the clock. He was finally feeling the crunch of those fading seconds. It was like seeing the grains of sand get fewer and fewer in the hourglass, knowing the reaper awaited once they'd stopped dripping through. He hoped he wasn't panicking and making a wrong decision because of baseless fears.
Another decision was what play would they use to get the boys across the line again. For that, they returned to their Short Wings formation—dubbed in good jest with Bella's nickname, and how she'd first explained JJ and Cam's roles—with the added caveat of Benny in place of Cole; hopefully the extra blocker would give them the extra oomph needed to earn 2 yards.
The Longhorns had barely made it onto the field, with no real formation of their own other than stacking the box with as many bodies as possible, leaving Juan isolated with Stephen outside. It was there, Jay found his target.
Of course, they could've tried a big old scrum in the middle of the field, and while Jay trusted his brothers to get the job done there, they'd probably need his help, and that'd be extra work. So why not throw it outside and let his giant do all the work for him.
With how immediate, and shallow the pass was—any flatter and it would've classified as a lateral—and with how close they were to the end-zone—meaning Juan had to step up from the beginning—Stephen could get as physical as he liked. He body-blocked Juan, protecting his spot, then snatched the ball, keeping it high out of reach as Juan latched onto him. But that close to the end-zone, Stephen just had to fall across the line. One-on-one, there was no stopping him at that range, and the Dons' two-point conversion was successful, dropping the lead to only eight points:
37–29.
The crowd was fully back into the game, and completely divided between supporting the Dons or the Longhorns. None were more invested than those filling the two largest skyboxes on opposite sides of the stadium. Whereas the Dons' families were jubilant, the Longhorns' families had never been more stressed when watching their boys play.
The teams returned to the field for the kickoff, which was booted deep into the end-zone. Sebastian, though he'd been waiting for the kick, made no move to catch it, and let it bounce through for a touchback.
Kentavious hopped back up, leading the way onto the field to join Sebastian. The silver lining of Ty's pick-six was it skipped the Dons' offence, and made it so neither he nor Kentavious had to wait for their next showdown.
The Longhorns' offence followed Kentavious… all but Morrison, who had been stopped by Coach Bourne when getting off the bench. A simple shake of the head told Morrison all he needed to know. He slumped back into his seat, lowering his head; he may never pick it back up again.
In his place was Dylan Branch, a senior on the shorter side. He was more uptight than Morrison, which showed in his crew cut hair, and his small, tired, grey eyes that made him look five years older than everybody else. He had quick legs, but a wild arm, and once Kentavious had joined the team and the Longhorns had moved to a pass-heavy offence, he'd lost his starting job.
Kentavious didn't notice the replacement until the team converged for the huddle on the field. He stood back, blinking with surprise. 'Where's Morrison?'
'Coach told me to come out,' Dylan said. 'If there's a problem bring it up with him.'
Kentavious frowned, looking beyond the huddle, back to the sideline. He sighed. 'No; there's no problem.' He walked away from the others, and took his position before Ty.
Morrison was a good friend, and without him, Kentavious didn't know if he'd have still cared for football. He glanced across, smiling sadly.
Morrison eventually looked up, feeling eyes on him. He put on a brave face, and gave Kentavious a thumbs up.
He'd always tried to make things fun for everyone, Kentavious thought. Even when he was always positioned as the scapegoat. Even now, he's being punished for my failures. Sorry, Herb, let me show you I've found my joy again.
'You benched your Quarterback?' Ty said. 'I think that's a first, even for me.'
Kentavious turned back to Ty, shaking his head, still wearing his smile.
'Though I guess I wouldn't remember anyone terrible enough to get benched,' Ty said, his voice full of mirth.
'Such is the life of a Quarterback, right? All the success, and all the failure is credited to them, no matter who was really at fault.'
'It's all your fault. All because you're not on my level; all because you thought you were special.'
'You've got a second career as a comedian, Ty. Not a bad back-up plan.'
'I don't need back-up plans. I'm going to be the greatest.'
Kentavious laughed; even this trash-talk stuff was still fun after nearly sixty minutes.
The ball was snapped, and after a quick bit of Play-Action, Kentavious and Ty once more raced down the sideline. Wyatt streamed upfield as well, occupying the middle, keeping Zayden's attention fixed on him.
It was just Ty and Kentavious dancing through the stars as it should be.
Dylan threw the ball up. His arm was stronger, and so the trajectory was flatter, though sprayed a little wider. Kentavious leapt, though when Ty did, the stars faded all around them, sucked away into the darkness. Kentavious reached in, fearless, and punched the ball away from Ty's grasp before he could come down with the interception.
They stumbled out of bounds, Kentavious falling as Ty knocked him off his feet to keep his own balance. Ty glared down at him and said:
'How far the mighty can fall in such a short time. You're so pathetic.'
Kentavious responded with a grin. 'I still have more touchdowns than you do interceptions, and I'm still winning. So tell me again who the pathetic one is?'
'You are! Are you deaf?' Ty shook his head, stalking off back to the Dons' huddle. Entrenched in the Dons' sideline as he was, Kentavious had to wait for a teammate to amble over and help him up. It gave him time to think.
Somehow, Ty was pulling everything around him down with his presence alone. Something about him made Quarterbacks scared to throw too far, and therefore, Kentavious couldn't fly as high as he needed to pull away from that black hole… but why was he so fixated on going higher. Were they not already amongst the stars? Up was subjective without gravity. If the stars were their playground, the could go wherever they wanted. He returned to the huddle, enlightened.
Kentavious was a slightly unnerving sight when he stood before Ty again. Never before had Ty come across a Receiver who started smiling AFTER he was being beaten. It was like a completely different person—which wasn't exactly knew, Ty's opponent's usually underwent a rapid transformation after he broke them… but Kentavious was doing everything in reverse.
At the start of the game he was so sombre, reserved, and sad almost. Even when they'd been winning he'd been falling further into despair. Yet now they were on the verge of losing, and after Ty had two interceptions? He was brighter than ever.
Is this denial? Maybe when the game's over and he sees me hoist the trophy this crazy nepo-baby will understand daddy's money can't buy him a championship.
The ball was snapped again, and Kentavious shot inside on a hard, shallow Slant. Ty followed, trying to push him back behind the Line, though Kentavious fought through, angling up. Stu, flaring out wide again, cut across over the top, and Wyatt cleared out again after chipping Donte and stopping his rush, pushing through the middle. Sebastian came across the other way on a shallow Drag.
Kentavious's Slant continued, past the LBs, yet staying underneath the Safeties. Dylan flung the ball over. Both boys would have to lay out just to get a hand on it, and that's what Kentavious did. Again he could feel the pull of Ty again, trying to ground him—an elbow digging at his hip, a shoulder to his ribs—but it had less effect on his lateral leap as he burst across the black hole and back into the light and warmth of the stars, latching onto the ball.
He landed with a roll, Ty sliding after him, clawing at his legs, downing Kentavious before he could pop back to his feet. The reception was only good for 11 yards. ONLY 11 yards. It seemed ridiculous to think that way, but after the past couple of completions and or interceptions both ending in touchdowns of over 50 yards for either side, even an average gain felt small.
Kentavious pulled himself up, grinning as he offered a hand to Ty, who quickly slapped it away and got up on his own. The two were chest-to-chest—scowl-to-grin—until their teammates converged, separating both, and escorting them back to their respective huddles.
When they stood before one another again, Ty wore a smile, matching Kentavious's sincerity with malice. 'So now you've got a new Quarterback you're going to start trying again? I'm sure that'll make everyone think they were wrong to bench the other one.'
'Hah. Interesting. So you're saying I should lose even harder to make it look like Herb wasn't the problem?'
'Wasn't he? I thought it was all your fault. Though you're certainly making it look like Herb deserves all the blame… what a stupid name.'
Kentavious laughed. As entertaining as these back-and-forths with ty were, he knew they were nothing more than distractions, and as soon as the ball was snapped, he pushed them and their subjects from his mind.
They rushed forward, Ty's spear was blocked and cast aside as Kentavious pushed outside. Just as they reached the first-down marker, Kentavious feinted inside. Ty, knowing the sideline was where he ruled, flowed inside, thinking Kentavious wouldn't be foolish enough to challenge him. Yet the challenge was the point. Kentavious burst outside, diving, as the ball came in low. He had to pluck it just off the grass, one hand scooping underneath to protect and secure it, as he tumbled out-of-bounds.
Another 12 yards. The Longhorns were encroaching on half-field, and Kentavious's evolution continued.
An actual Slant came next off a one-step dropback. Kentavious lunged out, catching Ty off guard, snatching the ball right in front of his face, breaking through the desperate attempt to tear the ball away from him, and broke away. He crossed half-field, then was soon stopped by JJ after 7 yards.
Stu was moved back into the backfield then, and with an Option play, Dylan was the one who scrambled across the line. His fresh legs propelled him past the marker before he slid to safety after a gain of 5.
The Longhorns were moving smoothly, but perhaps more importantly, so was the clock. Time continued to tick away as Kentavious broke loose on a deep In. The ball flashed just out of reach of JJ, and even Ty couldn't claw it down, reaching only Kentavious's forearm as they both stretched to their limits diagonally through the air.
They fell together, Ty landing on top of Kentavious, though that did nothing to disrupt the reception, which was completed for a gain of 15 yards.
It was infuriating. Ty could see so many of his past opponents in Kentavious. There was the body control of Vance, along with decent size that would've been a nuisance on its own. Add quick bursts of speed that could rival Nate Langford—if only for a second—then pair it with the seamless flowing stride and cuts of Lennox Freeman, and Kentavious was almost impossible to keep up with.
But more than anything, it was the horizontal reach of Marshall Ward, along with the near-impossible heights of Jeremiah Byrd, and how Kentavious made them his own by finding the ultimate sweet spot between them, that gave Ty the most trouble.
Which was to say nothing of how Kentavious had the same instinctual understanding of how best to attack every pass, like Richaun Howard. Even his damn smile and stubbornness was somehow familiar.
But it didn't matter, even if he was a combination of all of them, they were all people who had fallen to Ty, and Kentavious would join their ranks soon enough.
At the snap, both Ty and Kentavious raced into the stars. Ty's spear forced Kentavious outside, though he pushed in close and earned enough space with a shimmy outside to cut under to the inside. His Post route slashed across the field, carving it in two. Wyatt still had his vertical, occupying the middle, and Sebastian scissored under Kentavious, completing the Longhorns' trident as they thrust towards the end-zone.
Stu, still in the backfield, bought Dylan enough time to wait for Kentavious to get deep enough. By that time, Ty was stuck to Kentavious's hip, and they ran as if they were one being. Dylan didn't care. He had one job, and he wasn't about to be benched like Morrison was. He fired the ball over to the back corner of the end-zone. Kentavious leapt first; Ty took a further step, then followed suit.
They stretched out, the black hole eclipsing Kentavious's star again, though a sliver peeked out always. Just the tiniest sliver, but bright enough to still give hope. The ball hit Kentavious's hands, and Ty's, at the same moment. They crashed together, knees thudding into the turf just before the sideline, still clinging to the ball. They rolled and struggled, pulling and twisting, though ownership of the ball remained an even split. For the officials, that meant it belonged to the offence. Ty's heart burnt to a crisp as he watched the nearest official signal for the touchdown. He released the ball, and Kentavious rolled away, scrambling back to his feet.
Kentavious held the ball aloft, the greatest trophy he'd ever claimed, and he let out a loud yell. A short, sharp warcry that surprised even himself. It felt… right. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, yet he'd only just discovered it.
He laughed, crying out again. 'WOOHOOOO!'
He was still holding the ball up high for all to see as his teammates gathered around him, echoing his cry of celebration as they exited the field.
Tears sparkled in Kentavious's eyes. This was football, and it was amazing. How could he have ever forgotten this was how the game was supposed to feel? The emotions swirling inside him, such happiness and pride, were overwhelming; it felt good to let them out.
Coach Bourne didn't share the sentiment. The man was stressing, even with another two-possession lead at 43–29, he didn't feel safe—leads often weren't in football, no matter how large, and no matter how little time remained.
'What are you crying for?' he yelled at Kentavious. 'There's still seven minutes left in the game! Stay focused!'
'Tears of joy, Coach! Don't you get it? This is the best! Can't you feel the fire burning in your heart; your soul?'
Coach Bourne shook his head, shuffling away as he mumbled something about Kentavious being as crazy as his father.
Ty returned to the bench. He went calmly, quietly, and that was perhaps more worrying than if he'd come storming back throwing his helmet and smashing the bench. He had no room for rage, however. It was unfair, but it always was, he knew that. The game was made for the offence, so even if he was tied with Kentavious, the favour would fall to the offence and Ty would be left behind like he was trash… that's why he had to DOMINATE. It wasn't good enough to be equals, he had to destroy Kentavious and crush the Longhorns under his boot.
The Longhorns went with a simple extra-point attempt, and the kick was good, securing the lead at fifteen with a score of 44–29.