Noah

The gym was packed so tight it felt like the walls were shaking. The bleachers were a blur of our school colors, the band blasting some over-the-top fight song as everyone chanted, stomped, and clapped in rhythm.

This was my world.

The noise, the energy, the way people shouted my name when I walked past — I lived for this. It was where I was supposed to be, where I didn’t have to think about anything but football and winning.

At least, that’s how it was supposed to ...