Page 9 of Quick Tap
CHAPTER 5
DYLAN
THE NEXT MORNING
Istep onto the training field, my cleats pressing into the damp grass, and my stomach twists like it’s trying to eat itself.
This is it.
Coaches are watching.
Potential future teammates are watching.
Every single set of eyes on me, waiting to see if I’ll crack under pressure.
I pull in a deep breath, rolling out my shoulders as the assistant coach steps forward, clipboard in hand. His gaze sweeps over the team, pausing on me for half a second before he starts talking.
"We’ll be running a full-speed scrimmage today. Two teams. No holding back."
He doesn’t have to spell it out. This is a test.
"We want to see how you handle real-time play against a professional squad."
I already know the stakes.
This is the moment I prove I belong—or I don’t.
If I fuck this up, I’ll spend the rest of my time here playing catch-up, trying to claw my way back into the coaches’ good graces.
No pressure or anything.
The game starts at full intensity. No warm-up, no easing into it—just a whistle and immediate chaos.
I react on instinct, rushing forward as my team spreads out. The ball moves fast—toofast.
This isn’t like playing with my regular squad. We’re not bad, but here, it’s different—the passes are clean, effortless, the movement fluid, practiced. They know each other’s rhythms. They anticipate plays before they even happen. And I feel like I’m half a second behind.
The ball comes my way, and I catch it easily—but my next move? Hesitation.
I don’t see the best passing lane immediately, and that split-second of doubt nearly gets my pass intercepted.
A warning bell rings in my head.Too slow.
A second later, an opposing player cuts past me, and I move in for a tackle, but she sidesteps, leaving me grasping at air.
Shit.
“Push up, Porter!” someone yells from behind me.
I grit my teeth and reset, but I can feel it. The doubt.
Am I actually ready for this?
I can’t do this.
I can’t hesitate.
I block out the noise and force my mind to focus on the game, not the pressure.
