All Eyes On Me | All American

Chapter 1 (Revised)

                          "We should head to Smitty's and celebrate!" I wasn't surprised by my best friend's pronouncement as he emerged from the boys' locker room with Spencer.

Chris Jackson always found excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and unimportant. I'd always considered it part of his charm. But tonight was a good night to celebrate at Smitty's; we had just brought home yet another win for Crenshaw, extending our winning streak.

I glanced at the time on my locked phone screen the back at Chris, who knew exactly what I was thinking without me having to say it. "Come on, Sammie-Sam," he whined. "Don't do this to me. You rarely come out to celebrate with us anymore."

"It's already late," I started, "I have to take these braids out, do my hair, then head over to the Boys and Girls Club at 2."

As we step outside into the night air, Spencer laughs. "If I didn't live with her, I'd think she lived at that community center. She's always on her 'gotta save the hood' shit."

"Yeah, I know," Chris smiled. "She's going to change the world someday."

"And I'm starting with Crenshaw first," I smile back. "Speaking of which, are you guys sliding through to the center to help with the kids tomorrow?" Chris and Spencer both sucked their teeth simultaneously. "Don't do that."

"Those kids are only nice to you, Sam," Chris shakes his head. "Last time I was there, one of them tried to sell me his "art project" for twenty bucks. Then tried to run my pockets after I told them that I didn't have any money on me."

"That's because you look like a walking ATM," I teases, nudging him with my elbow. "They know money when they see money."

"Clearly they don't cause I really didn't have it." Chris chuckles. "I don't know how you do it. Those kids are tough."

"She has a way with them." Spencer chimes in. "They see you as a role model. You've got a magic touch with those kids."

"They just need someone to believe in them." Like how people believe in me when I said I would be one of the greatest football players. "And they could use more role models," I pointed out, referring to them. "Come on, just for a two or three hours."

"Fine, fine," Chris relented, rolling his eyes. "But if one more kid tries to hustle me, I'm start needing some money out that paycheck you be getting."

"Word." Spencer laughs. "And you're buying us lunch after."

"Ight, y'all. Get home safe." He pulls me into a quick hug, then turned to dap up Spencer. "Holla at y'all tomorrow."

As Spencer and I strolled down the dimly lit street, I could still feel the excitement of the game buzzing in my veins. The memory of tonight's victory played in repeat, I could still taste the victory in the air, even through my teammates were nowhere near me now. The image of the opposing team's towering players charging at me, but in that moment, I blocked out everything else, focusing solely on the end zone and the win that awaited.

Time seemed to slow down as I sprinted towards the goal line, pushing myself harder with each step. The memory of carrying the football into the end zone flooded back, accompanied by the thunderous cheers from the stands. The crowd, a sea of faces filled with pride and excitement.

"That's what I'm talking about, Sam!" Spencer had yelled before the team had ran over and hauled me into the air.

The excitement of the memory is replaced with fear when a black truck turns the corner ahead of us, an unwanted memory has me hugging myself. I keep my eyes locked on the vehicle, my mind racing with possibilities, racing with alternative routes that Spencer and I could take home. The vehicle crawled past us, it wasn't until when the truck finally sped up and disappeared around the next corner that I exhaled deeply, relief washing over me.