A smell of garlic welcomed Ty home. Meg must've cooked the pasta; they never used garlic elsewise. Or maybe Mother finally cooked something again. She liked making up a week's worth of spaghetti whenever she felt like cooking. It'd be nice at least.
But Ty bypassed it for the bathroom. He'd shower first, eat after.
When Ty entered his room, still damp from the shower and covered only by the towel around his waist, Devon was waiting for him.
'Lil bro! How was practice?'
Ty met the smile with suspicion. The only times Devon ever looked so cheery were when he needed something from you. Sighing, Ty asked: 'What is it?'
'What are ya talkin' about?'
'Can I get dressed before whatever this is?'
'Ya know, I'm a lil hurt you think I can't want to talk with ya without wantin' something.'
'Truth hurts,' Ty said, grabbing a fresh enough pair of a shorts, and a plain black tee from his drawer.
'Maybe what I want is to check in on how ya practice is goin'. I saw ya game the other night. Is that a problem?'
Those words gave Ty pause; he hadn't been expecting them. He still had his back to Devon. 'You watched my game?'
'Hell yeah I did, lil bro. Shit, you coulda told me ya in some big fancy tournament.'
Despite himself, Ty smiled. He didn't know how many times he'd tried to tell them, how many opportunities he got to tell them; not many with how little time Devon spent around the house. It didn't matter if it had been some random coincidence, one of those Saturday nights where there hadn't been anything better to do and he'd just randomly flicked onto the channel and recognised the school. At least he'd seen it … right?
'What was the final score?'
'C'mon, lil bro. Don't give me that look. I watched it all. At least, ya know, after the first quarter when I found it. It was 24–20. You the star though. Everyone could see that, ain't no way anybody who watched that game wouldn't know ya way ahead of everyone else.'
Ty pulled his shirt on and sat down on his bed, unaware he was still smiling. 'Obviously I'm the best. I'll prove it to everyone when I win the whole thing.'
'Damn right! That's my lil bro.' Devon leaned over, dapping him up. 'Ya gonna win that next game for sure.'
'Hah, yeah. Next guy I'm facing, his bark's worse than his bite.'
'Hahaha yeah, I bet, I bet. Don't let no weak-ass niggas push you around though. We Samuels, we don't take shit from nobody, ya hear?'
'I hear.'
'Damn right. That's what I been tellin' ya, lil bro. Just keep keepin' it real. I know you got this.'
Ty's smile widened. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a good talk with Devon. He didn't want to delve too far, didn't want to take himself out of the current moment; it needed savouring. '…Thanks, big bro.'
'I'm proud of ya, lil bro. Don't let me down now. We young niggas gotta make something for ourselves in this world. Ain't nobody gonna give ya shit. Ya gotta take what ya want, so take that niggas soul just like ya snatched that other niggas chain.'
'…They were prayer beads.'
'Prayer beads? Shit, that's fucked up, lil bro. Ya ass goin' straight to hell, ain't it? Hah! That's fuckin' gangsta though, legit.' Devon dapped him up again, then stepped back. 'I got some shit to do tonight, but imma be watching ya next game. Ya got this, lil bro.'
'I'll put on an even better show, just you watch. … Stay safe tonight.'
Devon laughed. 'Ya ain't gotta worry about me, lil bro. I'm untouchable.'
Still laughing, Devon left the room. Ty's hands relaxed, releasing the sheets he'd been scrunching up. Maybe … maybe he was getting through to them all. Slowly. But maybe they'd all see him for the star he was. Someone they could be proud of. He wasn't asking much.
In the hall, Devon kept his head down. All his niceties had been used up on Ty. His phone held his attention as he walked out the door and left the house behind. Navigating a betting app, he found the upcoming game between the Dons and Cobras. The Dons held odds of 5–1. Everyone expected a blood-bath. The Cobras and Longhorns were supposed to be in leagues of their own.
Devon stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the button to finalise his bet. Five grand on the Dons. Worst of all, it wasn't even all his to play with. Ty, that arrogant little shit loved to brag, but he believed every fucking word of bullshit that came out of his mouth.
"If this lil nigga fucks this up, imma break his scrawny neck."
Devon pressed the button. A heavy weight floated off him. His fate was out of his hands. He laughed. No point worrying in something you had no control over. Might as well get high instead.
A black SUV pulled up in front of their curb, and Devon climbed into the backseat, the door shutting heavily behind him. Was it still something to cherish, if the only pride Devon felt in Ty, was his value as a money-maker?
Tuesday was thankfully closer to a normal school day for Ty. He still got some … strange attention from some of the other kids; it was weird having so many people smiling at him behind his back rather than sneering.
Bella kept to his side through most of it whenever they had to walk the halls, and nothing major happened, so it passed quick enough.
Training was more of the same. Speed speed speed. Ty couldn't help but feel as if he was let down by the staff before their game against the Monarchs last year. They should've been preparing for a speedster all the way back at the start of State. Maybe then he could've beaten Nate Langford on his own … maybe it wouldn't have made a difference either way.
"I'll beat him next time we meet." The promise wasn't pushed to the back of his mind, so much as nailed there. It was always a little itch, one that was prevalent whenever he didn't have anything else to worry about, but could, thankfully, be covered up by a greater issue, like a Joseph Fale or an Elliot Wall.
Of course, practice wasn't EXACTLY the same. Exercise wise, there was an added threat. Coach Hoang had been keeping track of everyone's times throughout the suicides, and whoever was slower than yesterday, had to do them again.
Of course, with that hanging over their heads like a guillotine blade, each boy finished at least five seconds faster than their previous time. Coach Long joked about how if they showed such urgency in the games they'd be unstoppable.
The other remaining exercises had similar, diabolical punishments looming over them—the hurdle drill's punishment of a sprint up the stands had doubled, and if anyone fell trying to follow Bella's example with the jump rope, they'd need to do ten push-ups; a small number at first, though it quickly added up with how often some boys fell.
A stricter curriculum with harsher punishments wasn't the only change, however. There were still those added onlookers, and amongst them, recognition finally came to the forefront of Ty's mind. The girls from his locker, when the necklaces had been stuffed in there, were watching; watching HIM specifically.
Odd. But they also shot looks Bella's way, and she was certainly returning those looks with some venom. Maybe they were friends? Though Ty had some doubts about that theory after watching Bella confront the girls.
Voices were kept low, but their glares were sharp enough to cut rock. The trio of strange girls left after that, waving goodbye to Bella, smiling all too sweetly. Ty was glad to see them go, though chided himself for getting distracted by them in the first place. It was clear Bella didn't want to talk about them, and Ty didn't care enough to ask.
They weren't the only distracting encounter. Ricky had showed, finally, though he didn't bother Ty or any of the players, just another one of those days where he passed something to Coach Hoang and stuck to the sidelines out of everyone's—and importantly Ty's—way like a good little brat.
The rest of practice passed without issue, and then came the final change. Instead of being sent home, the boys were led into the AV room for their film session against the Cobras.
Speed was right. They were fast, across the board, not just in their skill positions. It made for a lethal, vicious attack, and a smothering, inescapable defence. Snakes. Cobras and constrictors.
Coach Long went through the Cobras' defence first. Intimidating, yes, but not unbeatable—even in their biggest victory they hadn't posted a shutout. 'They're quick, so we'll need to play quick, too. That's fine, that's what we like. We just need to keep it short and sweet, and maybe we can surprise them with our speed.'
Eyes settled on Chris and Cole. At first, the Tigers had seemed to handle the Dons' speed, but it ended up being their undoing. Maybe the Cobras would be the same, just as how the Eagles had prepared them for the Warriors' power.
Ty could see it working. The Cobras' CBs were strange. Quick on their feet, yes, but they relied too much on their Safeties over the top. Even those Safeties looked a little suspect from the footage. Speed meant the Cobras' defence had a quick pass rush, one that never allowed opposing teams to threaten them deep; maybe those Safeties couldn't keep up in a long race.
Coach Long moved aside as the film swapped over to showcase the Cobras' offence. Coach Hoang took his place in front of the projection. The Cobras' speed wasn't limited to their players themselves, it even affected their games and how they won them.
Each game was over in the first half. Even then, ONLY their state championship game was still competitive in the second quarter. 31–0 was the biggest lead Ty saw in the first quarter. Though that game only ended as 52–7.
Unfortunately, it wasn't like the Cobras ran out of gas after the first quarter, and you just had to withstand the onslaught until they were too tired to fight back, they just usually had amassed such a lead that they could take the rest of the game easy and still cruise to victory. All except Richaun.
He never let up until the game was officially over. Most of their points in the second half came from him. But it wasn't the scoring that was important to him. Even on run plays—especially draws—he wouldn't block, but instead ran a route. He delighted snatching his defender's ankles, or blowing through double-teams. Even on the wide view of the film, Ty could see the sharp-toothed grin on Richaun's face.
'One thing that should be obvious,' Coach Hoang said, 'is that they haven't been tested much this season. Every margin has been at least two-possessions, typically three. That's good. It means they won't know how to fight when things get tough.'
There were multiple snickers around the room. 'They ain't gonna know what hit 'em,' Deshaun said, causing more laughs. 'They'll turn to bitches real quick after one smack.'
Coach Hoang wasn't smiling let alone laughing.
'Metaphorically speaking,' Zayden added.
'Carrying on,' Coach Hoang added—stern looks from Coach Long helped get the boys back under control as the session continued.
Richaun wasn't the only problem to worry about. The Cobras had a potent run game, despite their skinny Linemen. It was a feast or famine style, Coach Hoang insisted. Yes, they got big runs if everything went well, but if you knew what was coming you could hit them hard on the ground. 'Just keep them in front of you and it'll be alright,' he said.
Colby Jenkins was another added threat on the ground. There weren't many, if any at all, designed QB runs, so whilst Colby was more of a pocket passer, if the defence forgot about him—and somehow all the Receivers were covered—he could break into an open lane and speed away for a first down with his own feet.
Still, Colby's arm was the primary concern. Even if the coverage was good, he could squeeze passes into windows Jay hadn't even realised were there. He did it with supreme confidence as well, never hesitating.
'They haven't thrown an interception all season,' Coach Hoang said, staring at Ty. Of course, there was a smile over Ty's face. Oh that would have to change. Ty wondered if Mr Wonderboy Jenkins had ever thrown multiple picks in the same game. If not, he was about to.
But that was something to worry about later. Richaun surged back into Ty's focus. There was an overlying viciousness to his game. His movements were fuelled by hatred. Hatred at the turf by the way he stomped on it with every step and cut, like he was trying to shatter the world beneath his feet. Hatred for the air even as he cut through it, slashed and beating it as if he could swim through it. Most of all, hatred for his opponent. He struck like a cobra at the line, rapid, stunning strikes. If they stuck with him, he clawed and swiped, keeping his swings tight and compact so as not to draw the ire of the officials, but Ty knew after competing against Richaun for just a quarter, you'd be lucky to walk away with only a few snake bites.
Richaun was fast, but Langford had been faster. Ty could beat him. And if he cut the head off the snake, the body would wither. This game was theirs.
The session eventually came to an end. As everyone got their copy of the film to go over throughout the week, Coach Hoang pulled Ty aside, handing him a unique drive.
'Here, this one's got ALL of Jenkins' high school catalogue. Study it. THOROUGHLY.'
'Yeah I got it, Coach,' Ty said, taking the drive. 'Don't worry, this game's over. Richaun won't beat me.'
Coach Hoang gripped Ty's arm. 'Don't fuck with me, Samuels. In a fair battle, maybe. But Howard has Jenkins in his corner. I think you're underestimating, or not even taking into account how that'll affect your dick-measuring contest. Study the film.'
It still seemed like an overreaction to Ty, but he nodded, only pulling his arm away once Coach Hoang released it. 'I understand, COACH. I won't let you down.'
'I know, Samuels. Only way you could is if you get yourself thrown out. Have a good night.'
'You too, Coach.'
They parted ways. The drive felt heavy in Ty's hands. What secrets would it reveal? Maybe after combing through it he'd have an answer to why Jenkins scared Coach Hoang so. Hopefully he'd have the answer to how to defeat Jenkins as well.