Page 18

“Happy Thanksgiving Eve to all of our listeners. This is Johnny May, covering everything you need to know about South Mountain Pioneer football. A dramatic last-second win for our young men last week has propelled them into a second straight state semi-final. Awaiting them will be another powerhouse in Philadelphia Catholic, who rolls into this game with only one loss.

Coach Bianchi will have his hands full, as he will not only have to find a way to stop the Eagles’ top passing offense, but will also need to erase the memories of a disappointing semi-final loss last year. The memory remains fresh, as not only did it end the Pioneer season, but it was also the last time Coach Weston stood on the sideline. While both teams have been fantastic, the winner will punch a ticket to what can only be described as a monumental challenge. Allegheny Prep continues to dismantle opponents, winning their quarterfinal match-up 52-0 last week…”

**********

“JT! Turn that damn dude off,” Hailey heard Tyquan shout from the other side of the stage. “I can’t stand his voice.”

Agreed .

JT did as he was told with a shake of the head.

“What do you think, Hailey?” Ms. Summers’ voice brought her attention back to the paper they had been studying. The distractions appeared to have been tuned out by her teacher.

Right.

She glanced down at the final design they had been given.

“I think…” Hailey glanced up at the man she had met at the drive-in. “I think it is just magical, Mr. Chen.”

He grinned widely.

“Please, Hailey, call me ‘Todd.’” She laughed as he fired up his drill.

“Well, Todd, you are doing a fantastic job, and I cannot wait to see how it all comes out.”

He nodded and laughed, beginning to whistle as he returned to work.

It is quiet today.

Ms. Summers’ page flipping was the only noise accompanying Mr. Chen’s drilling. Hailey took a few seconds to scan the auditorium. She found Emilio and Andy sitting in silence, their eyes locked on one of the props in the corner that they were supposed to be helping move. Peyton and the cheerleaders were all sitting in a corner on their phones, not saying a word.

That is a first.

The tense, soft tone of the auditorium was a vast difference from the normal jubilant laughter. The practices leading up to this one had been a constant commotion of singing and dancing.

“Ms. Summers.” Her teacher was still muttering to herself, talking over her notes. “Ms. Summers! ”

“Sorry, Hailey. Do you need something?”

Hailey started walking slowly across the stage, Ms. Summers now following closely behind.

“Does the room feel different today?”

She came to an abrupt stop when she saw Gunner. He was sitting on the ground, staring blankly ahead as Juliana tried to speak with him.

I hate seeing him like this.

“Yeah,” Ms. Summers whispered. She moved in close. “I guess everyone is just a little distracted with the big game coming up.”

Maybe.

Mr. Chen yelled from the ladder, and Ms. Summers jumped into motion. She patted Hailey on the shoulder and ran back to him for support.

Something is different.

Hailey started to pace around the stage. Even Tyquan, who had lately been working tirelessly with Brad to catch up on their lines, seemed anxious.

“Hey, JT.” She was comfortable enough with the young wide receiver to start with him. “I really don’t know why you all listen to that guy. I think he just likes to hear himself talk.”

She tried to smile and sat down on the floor next to him.

It is very quiet.

He chuckled but did not smile. As she folded her dress over her knees, she noticed him shy away slightly.

From the beginning, JT had been one of her favorites to work with. He was sweet and had been trying hard to perfect his character. She loved the little nuances that he had added, and he was even becoming more vocal during practices. Today, though, he seemed detached and extremely anxious.

“Everything OK, JT?”

The only noise in the room came from Mr. Chen’s drill.

“I guess, Hailey.” He finally looked up to her, his eyes a mix of restlessness and discomfort. “I’m sorry if I’m not myself today.”

I hate this.

She moved a little closer.

“Well, it seems like most of you are not yourselves today. Normally, I have trouble getting a word in, but today!” Again, she tried to lighten the mood. A wave of her arms around the auditorium actually made him smirk a bit.

“I guess,” he shook his head, “it’s just, you know, the game and everything.”

Coach Weston.

She took a deep breath and scanned the boys again, including Gunner, who was now standing, wincing as he stretched his shoulder.

“Yeah, well, it’s a pretty big game, I guess. But I know all of you will do great.” She pressed on his shoulder and stood up.

“Yeah. I guess.” JT paused for a second. “Hey, Hailey,” he said softly, his eyes trying to hold back the angst she saw on his face, “thanks for helping me with all of this. I don’t know where you learned how to sing and dance, but I’ve learned a lot.”

Her heart swelled, and she pursed her lips.

I cannot stand seeing them like this .

A few months ago, she couldn’t have cared less if the football team won or lost a game, but now her heart broke for them. It was not just the game that weighed heavy on them, and she knew that. They loved her father, and her father loved them, but this was about Coach Weston. This game would bring back all the memories they had with him, good and bad.

I know what that is like.

As JT walked away, she strode to the middle of the stage. Mr. Chen had adjusted the ladder and was working on some of the lights at the far end. She caught sight of Emilio and Andy again, both still staring blankly ahead, even as Bridgette tried to walk through a few steps of their dance.

Do something.

She twisted around to JT, who was fidgeting with his fingers by a prop.

“Hey JT!” she shouted so the whole auditorium could hear her. “You want to know where I learned how to sing and dance?”

She twirled on the stage, feeling everyone’s eyes lock onto her.

Strong and proud.

It all started to come back to her. Not the classes or instruction she had received---a voice that had always been in her head when she performed.

“At that school, right? In California?”

“Actually…” She took a second to squeeze her eyelids tight. “My mom taught me almost everything I know.”

Well, everything, really.

She giggled to herself. She flowed through a few steps on her own, twirling around the stage, and when she stopped, she locked eyes with Gunner.

“She performed on Broadway, you know?”

Gunner flashed a smile to her, the first one she had seen on his face in days.

“Really?” JT took a few inquisitive steps forward.

“Todd,” she yelled, spinning again, this time bringing her arms close to her chest, “why don’t you see how those lights work?”

Strong.

He gave a thumbs-up from the corner. She passed Bridgette on her next turn and could feel the entire cast start to fill in around her.

“For the longest time, I never understood how a football coach like my dad could end up with a Broadway performer like my mom.” Hailey paused, the lights in the auditorium dimming as she dipped low by herself. “I thought they had very little in common, Broadway and football.”

She slowed down, visualizing her steps as the crowd watched.

Go slow, stay in rhythm.

Next, she pushed up like a ballerina and landed on her toes, moving up onto the dining room table prop where Andy and Emilio had been sitting.

“But I guess I finally realized…” She took a deep breath, feeling the lights warm her as she brought her hands back to her chest. “I guess I finally realized they have a lot more in common than I thought.”

“How so?” asked JT. He took a seat at the table Hailey was standing on.

“Well, my mom used to tell me that she never cared what anyone wrote or said about her performance. She only cared what her family and castmates thought.” She jumped down, the light following as her feet echoed against the wooden stage. “No matter what the outcome of the performance, good or bad, she just wanted them to know that she performed like it was the last time she was ever going to be onstage.”

Her mother’s voice was soft in her ear as she peered out into the dark of the auditorium.

“And I think…I think that’s how you guys feel about football, too.”

The room was hanging on her every word. The feeling of bringing a large group into the moment, the intoxication of making them all come together as one, was more fun than she remembered.

“You work hard on the field, just like we do on the stage. You have to trust each other, or the play doesn’t work. My mother said that everyone plays a role, from the lead to the extras to the stagehands. That every one of those roles is just as important as the next.” She turned and found Gunner, who had moved to stand near the table. “Just like a football team.”

He nodded at her last comment, his grin much wider than before.

“Well,” JT said as he leaned back in the chair. “Your mother sounds like a very smart woman.”

She was.

Hailey lowered her head and nodded.

“Hey, JT---” Gunner said as Hailey started to step across on the stage, the light still following her.

“It’s OK, Gunner,” she said as she passed by him, spinning and throwing her hands out. “I never told everyone what happened to me in California. About the last time I performed or---” She cleared her throat. “The time I quit.”

Gunner tilted his head when she stopped, but she gave him a reassuring nod.

I got this.

“Two months after my last performance, during my sophomore year, my mother passed away.” JT shifted his eyes from hers. “I was so upset. I had worked my whole life to perform in front of my mother, to show her that I could be the lead. So, I decided that would be my last performance. I quit. I told myself I had no reason to ever step foot on a stage again.”

She closed her eyes and pushed into the lights. Her shoulders felt completely relaxed, her legs strong beneath her. The warm rays of light were directing her around the stage and melting her into the moment.

“And then I met all of you.” She walked toward the table where JT still sat. “I know I probably sound crazy, some new girl dancing around onstage by herself telling you her story, but---” she jumped back on the table, “meeting all of you showed me that my mother was right.”

Gunner pulled out a chair and joined her, extending his hand.

“Performing wasn’t about showing my mom that I could be a star. It wasn’t about how well I did or if everyone liked it.” She grabbed his hand, and he twirled her.

Perfect.

“It’s about the people you do it with, the friends you make. It’s about all the support you get from family and the community, about putting on a show for them.” She flicked her wrist out and moved back toward him as she continued. “Just like a football game.”

The entire cast had crowded around the table.

“Friday night, the whole town will be supporting you guys, including us.”

She pushed away from Gunner and jumped down, waving her arms around the room.

“I know what it is like to be scared. To think it might be the last time you could be doing something you love.” She moved to the front of the stage as the lights came back on. Everyone in the auditorium was looking at her. “But we got your back.” She put her arms around Juliana and Bridgette. “Just like you have ours.”

Tyquan strolled up behind JT and rubbed his friend’s shoulders.

“You see why I call her our fearless leader?” The bulky running back pointed at her and laughed.

Ms. Summers and Mr. Chen were also grinning.

“Nah, Ty,” Gunner said, jumping down from the table, his eyes locking with hers. “That’s our lead.”

Our lead.

It sounded natural, and this time, she refused to run from it. Instead, she stood upright and firm, squeezing her two friends against her as the rest of the cast began to cheer.

**********

“What a football game this has been, Pioneer fans! A back-and-forth game between two evenly matched teams with a trip to Hershey Stadium on the line. South Mountain has fought hard and now has a chance to take the lead, trailing 20-14.

Gunner Weston gets behind his center, Emilio Cortez, and calls out the cadence. He has been hit hard all night, but you have to admire the toughness he is showing in what must be an emotional game for him.

Weston takes the snap and drops back to pass. He is under pressure from the Eagles defense! Weston moves to his left side and…he breaks a tackle and is still on his feet! Weston is looking fo r an open receiver and throws it to Carter before taking a huge hit! Tyquan Carter has the ball at the twenty. He cuts inside to the fifteen. Tyquan Carter spins through a tackle at the ten. Carter dives for the endzone and…TOUCHDOWN! TOUCHDOWN PIONEERS! What a play by Tyquan Carter, and what a throw by Gunner Weston to keep the play alive!”

Not good.

Gunner ran directly to the bench as the screams from the crowd became deafening.

I can’t catch my breath.

He tried to inhale, but pain was shooting from his shoulder to his chest.

“Gunner!” The trainer came running over as he threw off his helmet.

“I can’t…” He was struggling to speak. A jolt that felt like knives digging into his shoulder blade took his breath away.

Shit.

“Look at me. Hey, look at me!” The trainer was yelling and trying to get his attention. “Gunner, I need you to look at me and tell me where it hurts.”

Everywhere.

He tried to take another deep breath, but exhaustion was clogging up his lungs.

It’s getting worse.

“Gunner, Gunner, are you OK?” Coach Bianchi ran over just as the trainer began to remove his shoulder pads.

“Coach, I need to get his pads off and get him back into the locker room. Now. We need to get his mother from the bleachers, and I need to get him to the hospital for an X-ray. ”

Like hell!

Gunner shook his head, tears now running down his face.

“I’m not leaving. Just take it off.”

Their eyes stayed on him for a second, and he was unable to hide another jolt that shot from his shoulder.

“I understand, Gunner. But I need to see if it is dislocated. I need to get you to a doctor.”

Once Gunner threw the shoulder pads to the side, he felt less constricted. The cold, biting air hit his overheating body, sending an immediate chill down his back.

“G!” Ty pushed through the crowd that was gathering. “G…” His best friend’s face shifted from excitement to horror.

Do I look that bad?

“Ty!” their coach shouted. “I need you to get everyone back, now. Get them away from the bench, and let the trainers do what they have to do.”

Ty and a few others began to argue, but the pain was making it difficult for Gunner to concentrate.

“Did we make it?” Gunner asked the trainer, who was pressing gently on his shoulder, bringing a red-hot jolt of pain with each touch.

“Yeah.” The trainer glanced over at the scoreboard. “We made it.”

At least we’re winning.

Gunner held his breath as another push sent shock waves through his body. He was becoming weak from the constant pain, and when he tried to stand up, his legs wobbled.

I need to be out there with my teammates .

“Gunner, I am going to grab your mom so we can get you to the hospital for an X-ray. I don’t think it is dislocated, but I need to make sure---”

“I’m not leaving this sideline until the game is over!” His scream turned the heads of everyone nearby.

“G!” Ty dove in for support and propped him up against his body. “G, man, are you sure you’re OK? Maybe you should listen---”

“I knew you were going to score.” Gunner grimaced but forced a smile. While the pain was sapping his strength, he refused to leave the sideline before the game was over. “I just knew it, Ty, as soon as I let it go.”

Ty kept him close, practically holding him up. After a moment, he smiled to himself and half-carried Gunner to the huddle that was forming in front of them.

“Come on! Bring it in! We need a stop!” Coach Bianchi was trying to project over the rising screams of the crowd.

What’s going on out there?

Gunner had missed a few plays, and he now realized that the other team had made it close to their own twenty-yard line and was in position to score.

Three seconds left.

His eyes went from the scoreboard to the field, where his teammates were sluggishly making their way over.

“They have to kick it here!” Coach Bianchi was shouting at Emilio. “We know this guy can kick, but he likes to keep them low. Remember the scouting report.”

We need a stop.

Gunner winced but broke through the crowd. Steam was coming off his undershirt, which was drenched in sweat.

“Gunner.” Emilio’s eyes were wide. The normally emotionally charged linebacker appeared all out of sorts.

“Emilio, look at me!” his coach yelled. “We are going to run a twist, right next to the center. I want you to come right next to him, son.” Coach Bianchi grabbed Emilio’s facemask and brought him close. “I want you to jump as high as you possibly can with those big arms, you hear me?”

The bulky linebacker nodded. The defense started a slow run back onto the field at the referee’s whistle.

We got your back.

Through all the pain, it was Hailey’s voice that straightened Gunner’s spine. A momentary surge of adrenaline, spurred on by the roaring crowd, drove him right out onto the field.

“Emilio!” Gunner shouted, a small shriek breaking through at the end as he fought off another jab of knives in his shoulder. “I’m a big chocolate bar fan.” His bulky friend tilted his head slightly. “I would love to get a few fresh ones in two weeks. You think you can help with that?”

Another explosion from the stands did not deter the two, who were locked in a stare.

“I think you need a ticket to get in.” Emilio pointed to him and smiled. “Let me see if I can get you one really quick.”

Gunner did his best to pump his fist before Ty brought him back to the sideline. The teams came together.

Here we go.

The whole sideline leaned forward. A collective inhale rushed through the stadium as both teams came to the ball .

“This is it, Pioneer fans. The winner punches a ticket to the state championship game in Hershey, Pennsylvania. The Eagles line up for the game-winning field goal trailing 21-20. Both teams are in position. The holder calls out the cadence. Here is the snap…”

Gunner closed his eyes right when he heard the pads smashing against each other.

Wait for it.

The first thud of the kicker’s foot against the ball.

Wait.

He heard a second thud.

He felt a lurch behind him and an arm wrapping him up. His head was still cloudy from the pain, but he could hear screams all around him. As he opened his eyes, he saw his teammates sprinting onto the field and the referees running off.

WE BLOCKED IT!

Emilio was galloping around, his helmet off, a trail of steam chasing after him.

“We’re going to Hershey, G!” He twisted to Ty, pure elation on his face. “We’re going to the STATE CHAMPIONSHIP!”

His best friend’s voice broke, and they embraced.

Oh shit!

The knives shot back into Gunner’s arm and chest, making him wobble.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Ty yelled and pulled back, panic painted across his face.

Gunner took a deep breath to steady himself, but then immediately wrapped his good arm around his best friend.

“Damn straight we are, Ty!” he screamed with all the energy he had left.

We’re going to Hershey!