Hickham crushed his ball cap between his hands. “All right, gentlemen. The time is now, so let’s get to it. I expect you all to remember what we talked about. Straight football … regulation rules … no exceptions. And I have one more thing: helmets stay on at all times. Even on the sidelines. Anyone in those stands gets a good look at you, and this whole deal might be off in a hurry … no offense. Now let’s go claim our title.”

The Jackrabbits’ entry onto the field brought instant mayhem to the home-side stands.

The first thing Cole saw when he stepped onto the muddy grass was the brawl transpiring at the fifty-yard line between the opposing mascots. Spurred on by the capacity crowd, the zipper-spined Jackrabbit and his cross-town counterpart were already off their paws and locked in a vicious tangle at midfield.

The Jackrabbits moved to their sideline without so much as a wave to the adoring crowd. Cole looked across the field. The Badgers had, in fact, made it to the stadium and were suited up in full dress. They were huddled at their own bench, jumping and waving and working the visiting crowd into a frenzy that matched that of the host school. Cole spotted Booker immediately. The linebacker stood apart from his team, ten yards inside the playing field. He was facing the Killington stands, grabbing his crotch with one hand and waving a middle finger with the other.

Cole felt a tug on his arm. He turned to find Maxine Wiley before him, out of breath and grinning porcelain, a pom-pom tucked under each arm. She shouted into the ear hole of his helmet. “I was told to give you this!” She slipped a sheet of folded notebook paper into his hand. “Guess I’m not gonna get Paris after all, huh, Logan?”

He peered through his facemask bars. “Why’s that?”

“’Cause if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the coach’s daughter has already staked her claim.” She teased him with fluttering eyelids. “Now get out there and kick ass, will ya?”

Cole waited until she moved away before he unfolded the sheet and read what Savannah had written. He looked up to the press box. Savannah was a silhouette among many others jammed into the smoke-filled room, but he had no trouble spotting her. She raised her hand and pressed it against the glass.

Before he could return the gesture, a fist yanked his face mask around. Hickham slapped his helmet hard enough to ring his ears. “Unless you’re otherwise indisposed, Logan, I think we’re being summoned.”