Prodigy

1

It's third and eight with five seconds left in the fourth. We're on our own twenty-seven and down six. The coach called a run play because he wants the ball in his best player's hands in this moment.

This state championship is my last football game as a high schooler. I drown out the crowd. The light from the stadium is dulled thanks to my dark visor.

Brett's barking out calls at the line. I see the safety flinch and recognize that defensive setup from earlier in the game.

"Red! Red! Red!" I shout.

I step up and give him a new play. The coach spreads his arms in confusion.

"Tampa 22! Madison!" he shouts.

He snaps the ball and hands it off. My offensive line is one of the best and I'm half the reason why. Working with them after practice to better our synchronization improved our run efficiency. I see the linebacker moving up toward me as I past the line.

My mind words in a sequence of players type of way. He's over pursuing. Reggie Bush back juke. He dives past me. Corner's next: Beanie Wells stiff arm. A safety comes at my legs and I almost fall but I put my hand down and stay on my feet. Emmitt Smith hurdle for the next line backer. One more line backer for the AP truck and it's green grass.

I hear the announcer, "He's at the fifty. Fourty-five, fourty, thirty-five, thirty. With one player to beat."

Save the best punishment for last. I Walter Payton truck the last safety and that's the game. Soon I'm Deion Sanders high stepping into the endzone for the win.

"That's it! It's all over folks! One of the best runs you'll ever see in high school football by one of the best high school footballers you'll ever see do it."

Matt Forte's celebration suits me just fine. Not long after, I'm tackled to the ground by my teammates. We're state champions. The crowd chants my name.

"Chance! Chance! Chance! Chance!"

"Chance, get up!"

A chill runs through my body and I ball up.

"Maaaaa," I groan.

"Today is one of the most important days of your life."

"Whhhhyyyy?"

"Because today is Signing Day!" she shouts.

"Is he up?" my Dad asks sticking his head in the room.

"He is now. Look at our baby."

"You raised him well," he replies.

"We raised him well."

They smile at each other then kiss.

"Oh, God. Please get out," I say.

"Give me a second?"

Dad leaves the room as she takes a seat on the edge of my bed. I sit up and face her. She looks as young as ever. Then again she is; she did have me young. Despite her age, she's been through a lot. I wouldn't blame her for being a wreck. However, that's the thing about Lauren Ross. She's too strong to fall apart and she loves us too much.

She puts a hand on my left peck where my family oriented Klingon tattoo is.

"I still can't believe you did this," she chuckles.

I smile.

"So, I managed to get in touch with Rameriz a few weeks ago. He was in Venezuela. I know you're kind of...indifferent toward him and you guys talk...whenever."