Noah

The locker room smelled like sweat, detergent, and that sharp rubbery scent of cleats that never really went away no matter how many times the equipment guys tried.

It was loud, like always.

Helmets clanged into lockers. Someone was arguing about music. Someone else was laughing too hard at something that wasn’t even funny.

Normal.

Except lately, normal felt… temporary.

I sat on the bench, tugging my practice socks on, staring down at the Ridgeville logo stitched into the fabric ...