Eagle River by Isabelle Kane Page B

them was palpable. Now she wants to ditch me. He tilted his head, allowing the water to run off his brim. Then, after adjusting his coat, he sat down, and pulled the brim of his hat lower over his eyes. This totally sucks.
    A few minutes later, the game began.
    The Milwaukee Jefferson Wildcats kicked off. After a decent kick return, the quarterback kept handing off to the tailback. The Wildcats made steady gains. Five yards and then eight yards. They steadily advanced. The Wildcat tailback, Richardson, aided by a big ox of a fullback, kept pushing through. Suddenly, he swept right and took off. The way was clear in front of him. He practically flew for thirty yards. Touchdown!
    “Cool,” Cam sat up a little straighter. “That’s more like it.” He glanced over to where Coach Murray stood with his player. The Warriors are in trouble , Cam noted with some satisfaction. Sure, they were his high school team, but he had never made it to a state championship game with them, and he didn’t like to be shown up, especially by Odgers, who had always seemed to be coming up behind him, getting all the love. It’ll be fun to see him knocked down a notch or two.
    The Wildcats kicked off to the Warriors. The receiver made it to the thirty-yard line before he was stopped, his green and white uniform lost under a pile of orange and black much larger ones.
    Then, Odgers jogged onto the field. Cam couldn’t resist looking over at Kjersten. She had stopped speaking with her friends and was watching the field. Bitch . She still wants him.
    Galen’s long, lithe frame dwarfed more of the other players, and he moved with the loose limbed grace of the natural athlete. Fucker . Why does he have to look so good?
    Odgers dropped back. Immediately, Cam noticed the intended receiver, a little dude, but he could move. The receiver beat his man. Odgers threw and it was a beautiful, spiraling textbook throw. Cam and everyone else in the stadium held their breath, and then the receiver dropped it. Yes! Cam was into it now.
    On Eagle River’s third play of the game, Odgers dropped back, and planted the football right in the middle of the fullback’s chest. The fellow charged nine yards before being tackled.
    It was fourth and one at the Warriors own thirty-nine-yard line. Cam watched Murray send in the kicking team. Cam recognized that this wasn’t the time to go for it, but he could see Odgers was pissed; he ripped off his helmet angrily and walked over to the bench.
    “Here we go,” Cam chuckled.
    Kjersten sat down next to him.
    “Where did your friends go?” he asked, not looking away from the game.
    “I want to watch the game.”
    “You mean watch Odgers.”
    “Don’t be a jerk.”
    The punter shanked the ball off his foot.
    Cam burst out laughing. “I could make that kick.”
    “They’re high school kids, Cam. This is your old team. You should be pulling for them.”
    “Oh, get over it, Kjersten. I don’t give a shit about Eagle River.”
    “What about Coach Murray? He was good to you.”
    Cam ignored her comment, but still sought out Coach Murray on the field. He could see that Coach was starting to blow, too. He was pacing, “He’s gonna throw the clipboard,” Cam muttered.
    “What?” Kjersten asked.
    “His team’s falling apart. Coach is gonna lose it and throw the clipboard.”
    The Wildcats got the ball. Stung perhaps by the embarrassment of the past few minutes, the Eagle River’s defense made them work hard for every gain. Orange and black clad receivers even got stuffed a few times, but they were eating the clock. Suddenly, Richardson, the Wildcat running back, broke for another twenty, scored, and then the quarter ended.
    Cam watched as the team huddled around Coach Murray.
    Kjersten, following his gaze, commented, “Coach Murray looked out for you. That’s what you told me.”
    “You don’t know shit about anything, Kjersten. He recognized that I was going to be a good ball player. I won lots of games for