“We’ve got a little problem with protection,” he says, setting his lips in a straight line and crossing his arms over his chest. “How do you feel about offensive line?”

“I’ve never played offense before,” I tell him, which isn’t exactly true. I played both sides of the ball when Julian and Nate and I played peewee ball, but I think we all did.

“I’ve got to get Julian more protection out there, and I think you’re a smart enough guy for the job,” he says. “Let’s try you out at left tackle today, all right? You watch Martinez for a couple of plays, and then we’ll get you in there.”

Coach Marcus makes it sound like it’s a question, but I know better. The only correct answer here is Whatever you say, Coach.

“Yes, sir,” I tell him, and strap my helmet under my chin and jog out to where the offensive line is gathered.

Most of the dudes on the line tower over me, but my shoulders are just as wide. Bucky Redd buries a fist in my gut. “Welcome to the o-line, little man.” He laughs. The rest of the guys laugh along with him, but I know it’s all good fun. Bucky runs me through a few of the plays, and I feel like I’ve got a good handle on them when Coach calls for a short scrimmage.

“Just keep your eye on the line for these first few plays. You’ll pick it up easy, I bet,” Bucky says, tightening his helmet under his chin.

The o-line gets down in their stance, and I watch Martinez set up. He’s the last one to bend at the waist after watching the defensive setup across from him. He nods to Julian.

“Red 14! Red 14! Hike!” Julian calls, catching the snap from the center and backing up a couple of paces.

Martinez digs in and tries to take out the defense, but the tackle breaks right through the protection, grabs Julian around the waist, and takes him down hard. I hear a loud “oof” as he lands on his side and drops the football.

“Ooh, that’s going to leave a mark,” Coach Andrews mumbles next to me.

Coach Marcus taps me on the back. “Get in there, Vance. Martinez! You’re out!”

Julian is pacing in a circle, panting, when I get out onto the field. He meets my eye, and I can tell he’s not okay. I want to ask if I can do something. Get him some ice. Get the trainer. But there’s not time before Coach calls the next play.

“Set up!” Coach Marcus yells. “Run Oklahoma hook left!”