“Conners!” Coach Winters barked as we finished a cut-block drill.

“Yes, sir?” I said, jogging over to him.

“Bowman?” he called toward the hulking blond guy nearby.

“Yeah, Coach,” said Luke Bowman, the starting running back.

“I’ve got a problem,” the coach said. “I’ve got too many running backs and not enough quarterbacks. I want you both to join their drills and show me if I’m crazy or if one of you can throw as well as you run.”

“Yes, sir,” we both said.

Luke wasn’t just the starting running back; he was the team’s star, a ripped gym rat with calves like Virginia hams. A year ahead of me, he was a senior who’d made all–South Carolina last year and had been attracting recruiters before our season was cut short.

“Luke,” Coach Winters said, and nodded toward the bleachers, “those guys here for you?”

Two men in suits were sitting and watching.

“Couldn’t say, sir,” Luke said.

“Well, play your ass off, just in case.”

He motioned for us to go, and we jogged off toward the quarterbacks.

“You’re better than last year,” Luke said as we ran. “But I’ve been practicing all year for this. Do not screw me.”

“Just playing the game,” I said lightly.

“Part of the game is that I look good in front of those scouts.”

“Look, man,” I said with a straight face, “they’re here to scout me. They heard I’m back in town, bringing the Chocolate Lightning.”

Luke looked puzzled. “Yeah, right.”

I laughed. “C’mon, Luke, they’re not scouts. We’ve been in quarantine, remember? No one could even get in here.”

“Then who the hell are they?”

I put my finger to my lips. “You ever see The Matrix?”

He scowled.

I never thought of myself as a quarterback. My arm strength was just okay, and I took too long to read the field.

Yet today, once again, I could do no wrong. Everything felt easier, like I was watching perfectly executed football from above. In a distraction drill, I couldn’t be distracted. In an off-balance drill, I never got off balance.

We ran a few plays, some with me as the quarterback and some with me as the running back, and we did the same with Luke. Aiden Cole, the presumed starter after our previous QB graduated, got some reps, too, though they were unremarkable. I completed seven of nine passes, and Luke hit six of ten, not that I was counting.

I heard Maggie cheer whenever I completed a pass or got in a good run. The book on her lap remained closed.

Despite all this activity, my ribs didn’t ache. The doctors at the sick camp had cleared me with no restrictions, even football and mountain biking. They said I’d be fine.

Coach Garner whistled us all together for a six-on-six scrimmage. With Aiden under center, Luke pounded through the line for five and eight yards. Then the coach called me in for a couple of running plays. I managed to get seven yards on the first attempt and broke away for a 41-yard touchdown on the second.