29 - Ethan
Ethan
The locker room was alive with the usual pre-practice chaos.
There were lockers slamming shut, cleats scraping against the concrete floor, and someone was blasting music too loudly from a phone speaker.
The air smelled like damp earth and laundry detergent.
The familiar scent of a season dragging itself forward, whether we were ready for it or not.
I sat on the bench in front of my locker with my elbows resting on my knees and my eyes taking in the scuffed floor beneath my shoes. I hadn’t slept much, and it showed, but there wasn’t much I could do to get my mind to rest.
The fundraiser replayed in my mind, Elizabeth’s words coming back over and over again.
And then there was the devastated look she had on her face when I walked away from her.
The way her voice cracked between frustration and disbelief as I told her my side of the story, and the silence that followed when she stood there, lingering on that balcony all on her own.
Underneath all her concern and confusion, I could see that she was having the same thought that had been plaguing me for weeks. This place wasn’t working. I ran a hand through my hair and got up before I could talk myself out of it.
“Hey,” I said.
My voice wasn’t loud, but it carried enough weight to cut through the noise. A few of the guys glanced up, giving me their full attention.
Cam leaned against his locker, raising an eyebrow. “Are you planning on giving a speech or something?”
I ignored his tone because if I didn’t, it would lead to a fight. “I just need to say something.”
The room quietened slightly as the conversations faded into curious murmurs. Dylan looked up from taping his wrist, and Malik stopped his discussion mid-sentence.
I swallowed once. “I’m thinking about transferring.”
The locker room fell silent. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me.
“You’re kidding, right?” Cam slowly straightened himself out.
“Nah,” I ran my hand over my face nervously. “I’m not kidding.”
“But you mean like after the season is over?” Malik asked.
I shook my head. “No, I was thinking about doing it before then.”
Their reactions were immediate. There were murmurs of disbelief, and someone cursed quietly under their breath.
Dylan stood up. “Are you really being serious right now, man? Don’t mess with us like this.”
“I’m serious, dude.”
“You’re just… leaving us? No notice or explanation or anything like that?”
“I’m here right now trying to be honest with you guys,” I said defensively. “I didn’t want you to find out about it through rumors.”
Cam folded his arms over his chest, and I didn’t really need him to explain any more. His attitude was clear, and so was his line of thought. “Your head has been somewhere else the whole season. I guess this explains why.”
I met his gaze calmly. “All my head has been doing is trying to win games.”
“Well, you could’ve fooled me,” he snorted.
Dylan stepped closer, and his expression tightened. He was the one person I thought would understand, but it seemed like I was wrong.
“You’re quitting the team,” he said, his voice still laced with disbelief.
“I’m telling you where my heart is at. If you can’t make peace with that, then there’s nothing I can do.”
“That’s still the same thing,” he said.
I could feel my irritation rising. I had expected some resistance, maybe even a bit of an argument, but this definitely wasn’t on my list of expectations.
“Would you prefer it if I lied to you instead?” I snapped.
“I want you to stop messing around and actually start giving a damn about being here.”
I laughed under my breath. “Do you think the program gives a fuck about us and what we’re trying to achieve?”
Dylan stepped back and frowned. He looked like he had been struck, but I could also see a hint of understanding in his eyes. If I could just get him to hear me out, there might be a chance for the rest of them.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dylan asked.
“It means that Harris never really wanted this team. He’s just trying to push us through because he’s in an even worse boat.”
The words hit each of them like a grenade. Mouths fell open and hands concealed shocked faces, but there were some who were still in disbelief.
Malik blinked rapidly. “Where the hell is all this coming from, man? You were fine, and now all of a sudden you’re going against everything we stand for.”
“I overheard a discussion between Harris and Pine at the prep rally,” I said cautiously. “He admitted to all of it.”
Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “You’re making that up. Coach wouldn’t just drag along a team he didn’t have faith in. He’s been trying to make us better, not drag us down.”
“I’m not making anything up. I’m just telling you the truth.”
Neither they nor Elizabeth wanted to accept the truth, and that really had me wondering if they were just too stupid to see it or if I was missing something. I couldn’t be the only one who was willing to accept it.
“If you’re not making it up, then you’re looking for excuses,” Dylan snapped.
“Come on, guys. Is it really that hard to believe?”
Dylan shook his head. “I should tell Coach that you’re planning on bailing.”
I shrugged, not really caring about the threat. “Go ahead.”
That confused him even more. It was like he was still waiting for me to confirm that it was some kind of joke, but sadly I couldn’t do that because it wasn’t. I had begun to care for these guys, so I just wanted them to be prepared because I didn’t know what would happen once I was gone.
“What?” Dylan asked.
“Tell him,” I said calmly. “Let him hear all of it so that maybe he stands a chance to defend himself.”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“So you can see how little he cares.”
That did it. It was all that was needed for Dylan to snap. He shoved me harder than ever before, and I stumbled into the lockers with a metallic crash.
“You don’t get to say things like that,” Dylan grated.
I steadied myself and shoved him right back. “Why not?”
“Because you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dylan swung, and I twisted away so the punch only managed to clip my shoulder. And suddenly all hell broke loose as the locker room erupted into a brawl.
“Oh, shit,” someone shouted.
“Get him,” another added.
“Come on, Rose!”
I grabbed Dylan by the front of his shirt and drove him backward into the bench. As he crashed, Dylan swung again, catching me in the ribs. We moved together and slammed into another locker. The metal door rattled violently before gear bags spilled onto the floor.
The rest of the team crowded around us, shouting and laughing as the tension of the season exploded into something raw, idiotic, and physical.
“Dylan! Don’t miss!”
“You talk too much, Rose!”
Dylan lunged at me again, but I shook him off. Both of us were breathing hard now. Then a voice cut through the air like a knife.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Everyone froze in their tracks, and I saw Harris standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and a dark expression in his eyes.
I released my grip and stepped away from Dylan. Dylan did the same and wiped his busted lip with the back of his hand. Harris looked around the room slowly, and I waited for someone to speak up and tell him the truth.
“Is anyone going to explain?” Harris asked.
Silence stretched between us, and I kept waiting. I expected Dylan to say something or for someone else to mention the transfer, but instead all we got was a casual shrug from Malik.
“We’re just getting warmed up, Coach.”
A couple of the guys chuckled nervously, but Harris didn’t think it was funny. His gaze lingered on me and Dylan for a good while.
“Save it for the field,” Harris said sharply. “Practice starts in two minutes.”
Then he turned and walked out. The tension in the room lingered for a few seconds after that, but then Cam grabbed his helmet.
“You’re still an idiot,” he muttered.
Dylan fell back on the bench with a heavy thud, and Malik placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Malik said with a smile. “But he’s our idiot.”
I blinked in confusion. No one said another word about the transfer, and no one mentioned Harris.
They just kept getting ready for practice like nothing had happened, and the shift carried to the field.
Practice started the way it usually did, with sloppy footwork, missed timing, and a couple of dropped passes, but still something was different.
The guys were louder and sharper, as if the fight had shaken something loose.
Then Harris called for one of his complicated maneuvers, a play we had been struggling with all week, and I braced for the usual confusion.
The formation shifted, the receivers moved into position, and the snap came.
I pivoted, faked a hand-off, and rolled to the left.
Malik cut across the middle exactly when was supposed to and Cam sealed the edge. The ball left my hands cleanly. It was complete, and Harris was quick to blow the whistle.
“Again!”
We reset and gave it a second try. The play ran even more smoothly. Harris lowered his whistle slowly, and for a moment he just watched us. Then he nodded.
“Good.”
That word alone carried more weight than any praise I had received all season.
The practice kept building from there. The offense moved faster, and the defense hit harder.
Every drill felt sharper and more focused, like the entire team had silently decided to prove something.
By the time the practice ended, I felt something I hadn’t felt in weeks.
We had momentum. I started packing away my gloves when a voice came from behind me.
“Ethan.”
I turned slowly and saw Harris standing near the sideline with his hands resting on his hips.
“Walk with me.”
We stepped away from the field while the rest of the team wrapped up their drills. For a moment Harris just watched them finishing their reps, but then he turned back to me.
“I heard you’ve been thinking about a transfer,” he said, catching me off guard.
I stiffened slightly. “So someone ended up telling you.”
He shook his head. “They didn’t need to. It was your behavior that gave you away. Contrary to what you might think, I actually do pay attention to the guys on my team.”
Silence stretched between us for just a moment. I didn’t know what to say, and I think Harris just wanted his words to sink in.
“I know I’ve never said it to you, but I’m glad you’re not wasting away on some bench anymore.”
“What?” I blinked.
“You’ve got real talent,” Harris said, surprised by my reaction. “The kind that deserves to be seen.”
His words had caught me completely off guard, but then he nodded toward the field and the rest of the guys.
“If Havenport isn’t where you want to display your talent, then that’s your choice. But don’t pretend you don’t belong on that field because then you’ll only be lying to yourself.”