I am 15 chapters ahead on my patreón, check it out if you are interested.
https://www.patréon.com/emperordragon
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Chapter 12: The Game and the Girl
The sun hung low over the football field, casting long shadows as Jon sprinted across the turf. His body burned from exertion, but he pushed himself harder.
Football wasn't just about raw athleticism. He had learned that much from Jay. It was about teamwork, timing, and strategy—things he hadn't mastered yet.
Individually, he was a beast. His reflexes, speed, and strength put him ahead of most high school players. But he was still new to the game—new to this team. And no amount of natural talent could replace experience.
That's why he was putting in the work.
After every drill, every play, every scrimmage, Jon was asking questions, studying formations, figuring out where he needed to be at every second. The team noticed. The coach noticed.
"He's a quick learner," Coach muttered to one of the assistants as Jon executed a flawless route.
"Kid works his ass off," one of the senior players added.
Jon wasn't looking for compliments, though. He was looking to earn his spot.
When the whistle blew to signal a break, Jon jogged to the sideline, grabbing his water bottle. He could hear the murmurs from his teammates—good ones.
"Damn, new guy doesn't quit."
"If he figures out the playbook, we're gonna be dangerous."
"Dude's got heart. I respect it."
Jon didn't react. He just drank his water, took a deep breath, and went right back onto the field.
The sun was relentless, baking the field in its afternoon heat as Jon lined up behind the center. Sweat dripped from his brow, but he barely noticed. His focus was razor-sharp.
He scanned the defense. Even in practice, the seniors didn't take it easy. They were experienced, aggressive, and didn't want some new guy showing them up.
Jon didn't care. He wasn't here to impress them—he was here to compete.
"Alright, rookie," one of the linebackers called out, smirking. "Let's see what you got."
Jon grinned. "Hope you stretched."
Coach blew the whistle, and the play began.
The ball snapped into the quarterback's hands, and Jon took off like a bullet. His body moved instinctively—reading defenders, adjusting angles. He juked right, then cut back left, shaking his man. In a split second, he was open.
The QB saw him and let it fly.
Jon's instincts took over. He tracked the ball mid-air, adjusted his stride, and reached up—
Got it.
The moment his hands closed around the pigskin, a defender was on him. A big one. Easily over two hundred pounds.
Jon didn't panic. He twisted his torso just enough to absorb the impact, letting the defender's momentum carry him forward—then, with a quick pivot, he slipped free.
The whole field watched as he bolted toward the end zone.
"GO, GO, GO!"
Jon could hear footsteps behind him, feel the air shifting as defenders closed in. He calculated their angles instantly. If he kept running straight, they'd catch him.
So he didn't.
Instead, he faked left, forcing the nearest defender to commit—then exploded right.
The crowd of players erupted in cheers as Jon sprinted untouched into the end zone.
"Touchdown!"
Coach blew the whistle again, shaking his head with an amused smirk. "Alright, hotshot, we get it—you've got wheels."
Some of the veteran players exchanged glances. Jon could tell they were starting to see him differently. Before, he was just the new guy. Now, he was the guy to watch.
Jon jogged back, catching his breath, when one of the senior receivers clapped him on the shoulder. "Damn, man. Where the hell did you learn to move like that?"
Jon smirked. "I used to do a lot of martial arts. Footwork is kinda my thing."
Coach overheard and raised an eyebrow. "That so? Maybe we need to find you a real position soon, huh?"
Jon just nodded. He didn't want just a position—he wanted the position.
---
Sitting in the bleachers had become a habit.
Alex wasn't entirely sure why she started coming to watch football practice. She wasn't a sports person. At all.
But watching Jon play was… different.
He wasn't just good—he was passionate. She could see it in every move he made, every play he ran. He wasn't coasting on talent. He was working—pushing himself, figuring out the game piece by piece.
It was oddly… relaxing.
For an hour every day, she could just sit there, watch Jon, and let the world fade into the background.
And then, of course, that peace was shattered.
"Hey, mind if I sit here?"
Alex barely had time to register the voice before Samantha slid into the seat beside her.
Great.
For a moment, Alex considered pretending she hadn't heard her. But that would be childish. So she forced a polite smile. "Of course."
Samantha plopped down, crossing her legs as she watched the field. "Man, Jon really goes all out, huh?"
Alex nodded stiffly. "Yeah. He's, uh… very determined."
Samantha smiled. "That's what I like about him."
Alex clenched her fists under the bench. Of course it is.
She wanted to hate Sam. Really, she did. But the more she sat there, the more she realized… she couldn't.
Because Samantha wasn't just hot. She was nice.
She wasn't smug. She wasn't rubbing her relationship in Alex's face. She was just a genuinely warm, friendly person.
Which made everything so much worse.
Alex sighed internally. Maybe I should just get over this whole thing. Sam's great. I could actually be friends with her.
But then she looked back at the field.
Jon was grinning, running a play, cutting through defenders like he had been doing this for years. He was glowing with excitement.
And Alex felt that stupid warmth in her chest again.
Yeah.
Getting over this is going to be impossible.