Chapter 88 Chapter Eighty Eight
Noah's POV (Part Two)
The entire stadium went dead silent in shock.
His teammates rushed over in a panic. Coach Ellis was already sprinting onto the field with the medical team running right behind him.
I jogged over but stayed back to watch everything play out.
Jace was trying to stand, his face white with pain. "I can play. Fuck, I can still—"
He tried to put weight on his right leg and collapsed immediately, falling on the grass.
"Easy, son." The trainer grabbed his arm to steady him. "You're done."
"No! No, I can—" Jace struggled against them, but his leg gave out again.
From the sideline, I heard someone scream.
It was Allison. She was sprinting across the field, her cheerleading skirt flying, long blonde ponytail streaming in the wind behind her. She shoved past the medical team and dropped to her knees beside Jace.
"Oh my God, are you okay?" Her hands fluttered over him frantically, not knowing where to touch. "Jay Jay, talk to me!"
"I'm fine." But his voice was weak and shaky. No one believed him.
"You're not fine, you can barely stand—"
"Miss, we need to get him to the ambulance." The paramedic was already bringing out a stretcher. “Please get out of the way.”
"Can he play?" Allison demanded.
"Absolutely not. Not for a long time, I think.”
Jace's face crumpled. Not from pain, though I knew that leg had to be beyond hurting, but from something worse. That was the look of defeat, clear as anything, and I knew because I’d seen it before.
How poetic, that in his bid to hurt me, he only ended up hurting himself. I didn’t even have to do anything.
If I wouldn’t get accused of being a psychopath, I would’ve probably laughed right there on the field.
The crowd was murmuring now, anxiety rippling through the stands as some people stood up to get a better look at the scene.
"What's wrong with our quarterback?"
"Is Jace Dawson not playing anymore?" Someone yelled.
Coach Ellis turned to the bench. "Richards! You're in at QB!"
Tommy Richards, our backup quarterback who'd thrown maybe ten passes all season, went pale with fear. “But…”
I stepped forward. "Coach. Put me in."
"You play wide receiver, Dawson."
"I played quarterback at my old school, you know this. Two years as a starter before I switched positions." It was true, I'd only moved to receiver my junior year when we got a younger QB transfer. "I can run this offence."
Coach hesitated, looking between me and Tommy.
On the field, Jace was being helped onto a stretcher. Allison walked beside him, holding his hand, tears streaming down her face.
As they passed me, Jace's eyes locked straight onto mine.
"You did this. You fucking asshole, you have to open your stupid mouth and talk about my leg, and they fucking heard you!" he grunted, his voice low and venomous despite the pain. "I'm not done with you yet, I swear to fuck! This isn't over."
I didn't respond; I only watched as they loaded him into the ambulance, smiling faintly with satisfaction, thinking good fucking riddance.
Allison climbed in with him, but before the doors closed, she turned back to the field.
"COME ON, WESTBROOK!" Her voice rang out clear and strong despite the tears on her cheeks. "LET'S GO TIGERS! LET'S GO!"
The cheerleaders picked up her chant. Then the student section, and within seconds, the whole stadium was thundering with cheers and stomping and clapping.
"LET'S GO TIGERS! LET'S GO!"
The ambulance doors closed, but I could still see Jace through the window, watching as they got ready to drive him away from the game.
Coach Ellis grabbed my shoulder. "You sure about this?"
I looked away from Jace and stared at the scoreboard instead. We had only four minutes left till the game was over, and we were down by seven points.
Our team was scattered, demotivated, and on the verge of collapse. The odds were next to zero.
"I'm sure."
"Then get in there. And Dawson?" Coach's voice dropped as he looked me in the eye. "Win this game."
I nodded and jogged onto the field to find the team in disarray. The guys were standing around looking lost and devastated, the Sharks celebrating on their sideline as though they'd already won.
I clapped my hands twice. "Tigers! Huddle up!"
They gathered slowly, reluctantly dragging their feet. I could see the doubt in their faces, as well as resentment. We'd barely tolerated each other an hour ago, and now I was supposed to lead them?
Was such a thing even possible? I wondered.
"I know you don't want me here," I said, projecting my voice so everyone in the huddle could hear. "I know many of you would much rather lose than let me quarterback this team."
No one disagreed.
"But those scouts up there?" I pointed to the sideline. "It's not me they came to watch, it's you. It’s your futures and your scholarships that are on the line. Everything you've worked for the last four years."
I looked each of them in the eye.
"So you can stand here feeling sorry for Dawson, fighting his petty fights for him, or you can get out there and win this game. For yourselves. For Westbrook."
For a moment, there was silence as each team member exchanged tense glances.
Then Marcus stepped forward. "What's the play?"