CARNIVORE [MxM+]

Chapter 33 [Revised]

The only reason I know what football's about is because I played it. This sports damn confusing sometimes. 

Tycho Black.

THE TENSION IN THE ROOM MADE EVERY LIVING THING RIGID TO THE TOUCH. My team and I were in the locker room, gearing up for the third playoff game of the season. It was one of the most anticipated, by us and fans, because it'd be our hardest by far, at least until finals. 

We were in the locker room, still gearing up, fifteen minutes before our expected arrival onto the field. We were lucky it was a home game. The crowd's turnout was so high that I could hear them like a megaphone in this brick-and-mortar room, their echoes reverberating off the walls. 

Louis stood from his bench as I laced my cleats, all chatter from the team dying instantly. He gave some words of encouragement that worked to ease their minds, but I didn't hear him. I just noticed the slight shake in his voice from his nervousness. I knew he was scared because everyone else was, too. But I wasn't. I was so level-headed that it was almost unnerving.

When the time came, and our coaches entered the room, we all took our rehearsed positions next to each other. After all the movement, we had two long and orderly lines of antsy football players, ready to be viewed by the press and the world. Louis and I were at the very front of the pack because, according to the internet, we were "up-and-coming rookies of the year," so everyone always wanted to see us first. I didn't enjoy attention, and I hated the thought of a camera on me, recording my every movement. I hated the attention, but I was glad I was good enough to receive it.

With one more deep breath in, we left through the double doors. The field came into view; the bleachers were packed with screaming fans of either side. Apparently, over forty thousand people were here to watch it in person. It was odd to see so many different lives in one place. That didn't even include Henningway's students-- the school we were up against. I debate our chances of winning as we walk into our tunneled entrance.

We were currently undefeated, with fourteen wins. Henningway had twelve wins with two losses, but even two was a lot for them. In the past four years, they've won two state championships and have made it to the semifinals in the years they lost. GSU was the reigning champion for four years straight before Henningway took that spot, but we managed to take it back last year. I guess everyone was wondering if we'd keep that streak going.

We entered the field, and the crowds roared, mixed reactions belting from all around me. The boos failed to intimidate me, and the cheers failed to encourage me. 

We stood over our team's logo in the center of the field. Our band (which was better than us, honestly) entered after us and started playing the national anthem. I took off my helmet and placed my hand over my heart. I looked around impatiently, waiting for it to be over. 

I studied my teammates' behaviors, taking note of the different approaches they had to such an important event. Some bounced their legs in apprehension, while others tried their best to remain stoic, taking the battle mentally and convincing themselves that everything would go the way it was supposed to.

I did neither. It went back to what I said before-- that I was unnervingly settled. I didn't know why I was like this, honestly. I was so sure of the outcome of the game that it was almost cocky. I thought of the three men in the bleachers above me. Yeah, I'd make sure to win. I couldn't let them see me lose, after all.

"Oh, Tycho, I wanted to ask you, what's your jersey number?" Alexei tilted his head at me, lips curled into a smile.

"Why?"