Noah

Wednesday.

Two more days until Friday’s game.

Two more days until a college recruiter showed up to watch me — well, technically Jackson too, but still. This was supposed to be my moment, my chance to prove I wasn’t just some hometown player who peaked in high school.

And right now?

I was blowing it.

Coach’s voice still echoed in my head from yesterday’s practice.

“Carter! What the hell was that?”

He’d ripped into me after I missed a simple play — one ...