Twelfth Knight by Alexene Farol Follmuth EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Alexene Farol Follmuth
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.8 MB
- Price: Free
BATTLE THEME MUSIC
Jack
When I was a kid, everyone naturally assumed that because I was the son of
Sam Orsino, I was an All-American quarterback in the making.
They were … half right.
I mean, I can see the logic. My dad, the only son of a janitor and a
waitress, famously set the Northern California record for passing yards
when he was at Messaline High in the ’90s, only to be surpassed four years
ago by my older brother—so yeah, I have some idea of what people expect
from me. The family arm! Practically my birthright. People assume I’ll be
no different from my father and brother: a playmaker, a leader. Someone
who can command the field, and in a lot of ways, they’re not wrong.
I do see the game differently than other people. I think the commentators
usually call it vision, or clarity, even though to me it’s something more
innate. When Illyria was recruiting me last fall, they said I saw the field like
a chess prodigy, which feels closest to the truth. I know where people are
going to be, how they’ll move. I feel it somewhere, like the tensing of a
muscle. I can sense it like a change in the wind.
Like, for example, right now.
Messaline Hills, California, isn’t exactly Odessa, Texas, but for an
affluent San Francisco suburb, we know how to pull off your classic Fridaynight lights. The late-August heat burns away as the sun molts into stadium
brights, transforming the familiarity of our home turf to the singular mythos
of game day. The stands are packed; whoops and chatter buzz from the
crowd, all alight with Messaline green and gold. There’s a snap from a
drumline snare, sharp like the edge of a knife. From the field, the tang of
sweat and salt mixes with the charred scent of barbeque, the storied
hallmark of our home opener’s Pigskin Roast.
Tonight, standing on this field for my final year feels like the start of an
era. Destiny, fate, whatever you want to call it—it’s here on the field with
us; I can sense it from the moment our next play is called, my team
collectively suspending in time for the same fleeting breath.
“HUT!”
There’s immediate pressure on Curio, our quarterback, so I force some
space and quickly change directions, shaking off a linebacker to reach
Curio’s left for the handoff. We’ve run this exact play hundreds of times; it
worked last week in our season opener, an away game against Verona High,
and it’s going to work again now. I take the ball from him and spot an
oncoming defender, shouting for a blocker to take my right. Naturally he
misses, so I pivot again to drop a right-side defender. He can’t hang. Too
bad, so sad.
Now it’s just a forty-yard run with the entire Padua defense at my heels.
You know how I said everyone was half right about me following in my
dad’s footsteps? That’s because I’m an All-American running back.
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