Lilianna Grace Welt is a sweetheart. She has had a rough past, making her seem closed off, but in reality when Lily and Cole are together, you would rethink that. Lily would much rather have her face shoved in a book or be listening to Taylor Swift...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Mature Content Ahead!
I quit. I quit football. I never want to play this game again. Okay, so maybe I'm being a little bit dramatic...
A little bit?
There are about four minutes in the last quarter and guess what? We got seven more points... but so did Quinton. Meaning we are now tied 14-14. The bottom line is we are tied and this game is getting absolutely nowhere. I stopped counting how many times I have been tackled, oh I don't know, four quarters ago.
Forget partying, all of us guys are going to have to be icing our joints. My body hasn't been this sore since ever.
Okay, maybe Lilianna is right. If the NFL fails, I should try acting. I got this whole dramatic factor down. Granite, half of that is the fact that Lilianna Grace Welt is my best friend and has been for the past nine years. My girl is dramatic beyond belief. Wait... my girl? Since when did it become-
I get snapped out of my thoughts when a referee blows his whistle and the clock freezes. I glance over to the time and see we only have three minutes and four seconds left of this quarter. If no team can score a point in the next three minutes and four seconds, we go into overtime.
Lucky us!
The referee points to our side, meaning the ball from the latest tackle, which was between our player, J.B. Hudson, and a player from Quinton, who's name I am unaware of, goes to us.
J.B. runs back to where I am on the sideline and everyone in the stands from our side is clapping for him.
"Nice job J.B." I comment, patting him on the back.
"Thanks, captain," he replies.
"Miller, get out there!" Coach Patterson yells at me and I can tell he is just as frustrated with these referees and this game as we are.
What is it with football coaches always getting pissed at the slightest things?
I run towards center field and the referee tosses me the football. I crouch down low and when the clock starts again, I hike the ball backwards to Raven.
Before I know it, the ball has gone from our team to Quinton and now, we again have control of the ball.
With about a minute left on the clock, Jake Trent looks at me from where I am across the field. I nod and he throws the football at me. It's a long shot, and for a second I doubt I will catch the ball.
For a second...
From where I am located on the field, I run diagonally up, towards the away side and catch the ball.
Once I have the ball that could possibly be the winning touchdown for Lopelle, I turn around and book it to our end zone. There is T-minus thirty seconds left until the game is over, so I run as fast as my feet can carry me. If I don't make it to the end zone in time, I will have let down my team, my school, my coach, and myself.
