Dinosaurs didn’t live in the jungle
GALLAGHER
How do you know? Were you there?
Lol
VINCENT
Don’t talk to your captain like that
GALLAGHER
You’re our football captain. You’re not the president of this book club
GALLAGHER
Also, I just looked it up and they did live in jungles, so you’re wrong
SAMSON
Wait, we have a president?
ADIL
Yes, it’s me
ADIL
Anyway
ADIL
Noah, can you call the dinosaur cracker company and ask them for custom spinosaurus snacks?
ADIL
Hello?
ADIL
Noah?
Noah Wilson left the conversation.
EPILOGUE #2
ASHER
Thirty seconds of added time left on the clock.
Sweat coated my skin and dripped into my eyes. A ceaseless, deafening roar rolled through the stadium as fans shouted for someone, anyone on their side to score.
It was our final match of the season. Once again, we were playing Holchester; once again, we were tied, and once again, we needed a win to take home the trophy.
The déjà vu was so strong it permeated the air and etched lines of determination across every Blackcastle player’s face. We’d let last season’s Premier League title slip through our fingers, but we would rather die than give Holchester another victory.
Not in our bloody stadium, in our city, surrounded by our fans.
Bocci broke through our defense and attempted a goal. My heart stopped in denial only to pick up again when Vincent streaked in at the last minute with a spectacular block.
He kicked the ball to Elliott, who tried to run upfield with it but faced strong resistance from Holchester. Instead of wasting time by fighting, he passed the ball back to Vincent, who took it and ran.
Fifteen seconds left.
My blood thundered in my ears, and I tracked Vincent like an eagle as he sprinted along the side.
Come on, come on, come on…
I silently urged him to run faster even as I kept an eye on the opposing team as well. This was our last play. Either it worked or it didn’t—and it had to work.
Ten seconds left.
Vincent finally paused and, without so much as a beat of hesitation, delivered a sumptuous cross so smoothly that Holchester’s defense was still scrambling when I raced in to meet it.
Five seconds.
I didn’t think. I acted on instinct and met the ball with a clean, simple header.
