Whispered Promises

Chapter 8 - New Beginnings, Old Shadows

Levi's POV

The shrill sound of my alarm jolts me awake. Groaning, I sit up, disoriented and tired from the sleepless night spent wrestling with my decision. I want to be on the field, to prove myself, to finally step out of Xavier's shadow. But the idea of playing on a team with a girl? It wasn't what I pictured for my football career. Yet, here I am.

Dragging myself out of bed, I find Xavier in the kitchen. Our parents are already gone for work, but as always, they left breakfast and packed our lunches—routine, predictable. Unlike today.

Xavier glances up from his cereal. "When do you start training with the new team?"

I take a deep breath. "Today. At least I'll be on the field instead of sitting on the bench while you get all the glory."

His frown deepens. "Levi, you don't have to go. You can wait for your chance here."

"My chance?" I snap, frustration boiling over. "When will that be, Xavier? When you decide you've had enough? I can't wait forever."

He sighs, rubbing his temples. "Fine. Do what you want. But remember, you're playing with a girl."

His words fuel my anger. "So what? Maybe she's better than half the guys on our team. And you better apologize to Marques for what you did."

With that, I grab my lunch, toss it in my backpack, and march out of the kitchen. I don't care if this new team has a girl or not. This is my shot, and I'm not about to let anyone, especially Xavier, make me doubt it.

As I head to the garage, I realize I'm running late. Maybe I shouldn't have hit the snooze button five times. My black baby—a well-oiled machine—purrs to life as I start her up. The garage door opens, and I catch a glimpse of my new neighbor for the first time. Tall, dark hair, about my age. She's juggling a bunch of stuff as she rushes to her car, clearly late too. I linger a second too long, staring as she fumbles. She notices, gives me a weird look, then breaks eye contact. There's something familiar about her, but I can't place it, and I don't have time to figure it out.

I roll down the driveway, ready to hit the road, when suddenly her car—an old Bronco—pulls out right in front of me, forcing me to slam on the brakes.

"Unbelievable," I mutter. "Can this day get any worse?"

I speed off, trying to shake off the frustration. A red light forces me to stop, and as fate would have it, the Bronco is right next to me. I glance over, catching her eye just as I flip her off. Before she can react, the light turns green and I zoom ahead, shaking my head. I make it to school just in time, but as I pull into the lot, who parks right next to me? The same girl in that stupid Bronco.

As she steps out, I finally get a closer look at her. She recognizes me too. "Really? Middle finger? You're so mature," she snaps, her voice sharp with sarcasm. "By the way, I've got two of them," she adds, holding up both middle fingers in my face.

"Next time, watch where you're going," I retorted, my patience thin. "You took my right of way, loser."

"Oh, you better watch your mouth, brainless," she fires back, clearly just as irritated. But I can't afford to get into it with her, not today. Not when I've got training with her in a few hours. I mumble under my breath, "You're the reason God created the middle finger," before turning and heading into the building. I've got more important things to focus on than some annoying girl who can't drive.

The new team's practice field is a world apart from what I'm used to. When I arrive, I feel a knot of nerves tighten in my stomach. This is it. No more sitting on the bench. No more living in Xavier's shadow.

As I scan the field, I spot him—Jackson, the team captain. He's standing confidently in the middle of the field, his eyes sharp and focused. The second he sees me, he jogs over.

"Levi, right?" Jackson greets me, extending a hand. "I'm Jackson."

"Yeah, that's me," I reply, shaking his hand. There's an unspoken challenge in the way he looks at me, like he's sizing me up.

"Welcome to the team," Jackson says with a tight smile. "Coach told me about you. Just so you know, we don't take it easy here. We don't need anyone who's not fully committed. We play hard, and we play fair."

I can't help but bristle at his tone. "I'm here to play football, not make friends."

"Good," Jackson retorts, his eyes narrowing. "Because I'm not here to babysit a benchwarmer."

Anger flares in my chest. I knew there'd be resistance, but his hostility takes me off guard. "I'm not a benchwarmer. I'm a quarterback, and I'm here to win."

"Then prove it," Jackson says coolly, not missing a beat. "Let's see if you can keep up."

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