The second quarter started, the teams moving to the opposite side of the field.

Holy Cross lined up in a twelve-personnel (two receivers, two tight ends, one running back), set and continued to pound the ball with Edwards - who got four to eight yards with each carry - with the occasional first down pass to Rogers. It was a very long and time-consuming drive that got all the way to the seventeen-yard line, where Coach Hamilton called a timeout. It was somewhat to try to slow down the Holy Cross offense and get the right play in, but the timeout was mostly for the defense to catch their breaths.

Holy Cross lined up in eleven-personnel (three receivers, one tight end, one running back) this time. Doherty went back to pass three times. All three times were mistakes: three sacks - a half sack shared by Blalock and Forret, a half-sack shared by Tytus and the senior right edge rusher, Hales, and a solo sack by Tytus, this time with a powerful bullrush on the left guard - knocked the ball spot back to the thirty-three yard line and shut the drive down. The Holy Cross field goal attempt missed, and Atticus and Tytus shared a handshake again with 6:47 left to go in the second quarter.

The crowd was still deafening, and Atticus thought that he’d lose his hearing for sure after this game. Another silent count, the second corner and the safety matched up against him. The receiver didn’t treat him any less than he did Rogers; it was just him against whomever, and he knew he could beat anyone on his best days. He was fucking on his best day today, and Hutchinson seemed to know it, as all of the drive’s plays - all passes - went to him.

A curl route was the first one. Atticus caught it, and the second corner attempted to bring him down. He managed to get eleven yards out of it, spinning out of the corner's grasp before the safety helped bring him down.

Rogers was right back on him the next play, showing man coverage after Atticus went into motion to the slot. Atticus merely used an option route - a fake post turning into an out route - to fool the corner, moving towards the sideline, getting an extra few yards and going out of bounds before Rogers could touch him. Another eleven yards, another first down, this time with the clock stopped with him going out of bounds on his own volition.

The next play was a comeback. Atticus’s footwork and shoulder fakes fooled Rogers again, thinking it was a go route before he pivoted back with a quick cut of the route, going towards the sidelines and finishing with a nice toe tap before Rogers could touch him for a gain of fifteen yards and stopping the clock again.

Both Rogers and the second corner were on him now; the Holy Cross coach was obviously desperate to stop him. The next route was a sail route. Another easy completion, but he was tackled at the seven, the clock counting down to four minutes.

Holy Cross called a timeout, and the Gatorade bottles and the fresh towels were brought out on the field, to Atticus’s relief, as he was sweating hard. Coach Hamilton tried to bring him out of the game with his calm voice.

Atticus had other ideas.

“Coach, I’m on fire now,” he protested. “I want to finish this drive.”

The coach sighed. “You’re being stubborn, Atticus…but if you think you can do this, I’ll let you. One play that goes to you on this drive. No more.”

“Yes, Coach!” Atticus went back onto the field to the huddle. The play came in. His route was a fade; a technical route only used while a receiver was close to the endzone. Rogers was on him again, with the safety shadowing him.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Sweat dripped down the face of the receiver as the play was snapped. He trusted his footwork, three hesitating steps to fool the two-way player, enough to run the fade. Rogers seemed to know the fade was going to him. Hutchinson threw it high again, so that even Rogers couldn’t get it.

But Atticus knew he could. He leaped for the ball, the safety trying to push him out of the endzone and into the white line in the back to knock him out of bounds. The receiver snagged it with the fingertips on his left hand, brought it into his body with both of his arms covering it, all while somehow managing to get his toes down (thank you again, Tabby!) into the green beforehand.

He stayed unmoving on the ground for a while, waiting for the refs to discuss what to call the play they saw…until one of them raised his arms to signal a touchdown, and he was lifted up by Hendrickson, the tight end letting out a jubilant shout and giving him a helmet tap as well, along with most of the offense.

“No FUCKING WAY!” Rogers shouted furiously. Atticus knew he was in the head of the star two-way player, in the heads of all the Holy Cross defenders judging by their dejected looks, and even living rent free in the heads of the Holy Cross coaches, if their furious and swear-laden shouts, audible even through the crowd, were any indication.

Good.

The call stood, as decisions by refs were considered final at the high school level (there were no replay booths here), and Salmon booted the extra point through, the entire team and the Edna Karr supporters screaming in joy. Atticus gave another handshake with Tytus before Salmon kicked the ball out to the Holy Cross special teams. The returner brought it out, but only to the fifteen before Baldwin tripped him up with a hard tackle.

Edwards got the ball over to the opposing forty on the next play and Rogers caught a nice pass from Doherty to get them to the redzone with the two minute warning…but it was all for nought; Tytus, lined up wide left, beat the left tackle with a speed rush, beat Edwards’ chip block and chopped down on Doherty’s right hand. The ball popped out of the quarterback’s grasp and Hales immediately pounced on it on the twenty-five-yard line, to the screaming sideline of Edna Karr and the crowd.

“FUCK YEAH, TY!” Atticus shouted through the noise of the crowd, giving a quick special handshake with his best friend before he went back onto the field with 1:28 left on the clock after a quick timeout by Coach Hamilton.

Rogers was still matched with him, but he could tell that the two-way player was beyond frustrated and pissed. The next route would be a simple go-route; all Atticus had to do was outrun his man. It would be difficult, considering the opposing corner’s speed, but he was riding on a wave of confidence. Not cockiness that he was better than everyone but just knowing that he could do anything short of something superhuman on the field of play, and that it would be impossible to stop him.

To the credit of the Holy Cross crowd, they were still making a hell of a lot of noise. The ball was snapped, and Atticus ran the go, with Rogers barely trailing behind, flipping his hips easily to run with him.

But Atticus was still faster, and even with the ball placement with Hutchinson underthrown, he hauled it into his body. Rogers managed to catch up to him with the underthrown ball and finally dragged him down at the nineteen-yard line, but the receiver wasn’t even close to being out of breath: just annoyed that Rogers prevented him from another touchdown.

Coach Hamilton had immediately called another timeout. More Gatorade, more towels, and the coach told them the play came in: a bubble screen to Atticus, ride the hot hand - and the receiver was more than prepared to do it.

The Superdome was still rocking, and Atticus smiled at the visibly angry Rogers. The ball was snapped, and Rogers read the play like a book, attempting to jump the throw and pick it off for a second time. Atticus, reading Rogers’ actions, merely sprinted in front of him as the bubble screen quickly turned into a quasi-tunnel screen. The opposing corner attempted to take him down with an arm tackle around the waist, and the receiver shrugged it off as he bounced to the outside. A linebacker tried to tackle him, but Atticus gave him a stiff-arm on the helmet to send the opposing player tumbling to the ground and unable to get a hand on him. He was a yard away from the endzone when their safety lowered his helmet to go for a killshot on him.

Atticus went airborne. It wasn’t even a hurdle, he barely realized, as he put a hand on the safety’s shoulder; he was in midair, going head over feet in a flip that he had never done before. His feet stuck the landing, almost like a gymnast, and he realized he was in the endzone with everyone staring at him in stunned disbelief. The Edna Karr crowd was going absolutely bonkers with screaming. But both of the sidelines were in stunned disbelief at what just happened - and even he barely believed that he just did what he did.

Strangely, he didn’t even feel winded after the drive, as he ran over to the sideline where Coach Hamilton merely tapped his helmet and said, “That’s like what Jerome Simpson did in 2011…except you did it better. You came to play, Atticus, you’re giving this team confidence, and you were right; you’re absolutely on. Make sure to play the same way in the second half, all right?”

“Yes, Coach,” Atticus said eagerly as Salmon knocked through another extra point.

There was one more handshake with Tytus before the kickoff and before the defensive tackle went onto the field. Atticus turned his attention to the cheerleaders, hoping to catch a glimpse of Josiane.

The half ended with a Holy Cross three-and-out (three incomplete passes with Broussard and Theriot getting a pass breakup apiece on the increasingly pissed off Rogers, and Tytus, Blalock, and Hales applying pressure on the final pass to force a quick throw that was too low for the second receiver to handle), a punt received, and an Edna Karr kneel down to get to the end of the half.

As the team went back into the locker room, Atticus didn’t realize that he would never again share the special handshake with Tytus, didn’t realize that his team would never again congratulate him for an excellent play, didn’t realize that he would never be able to play the sport he loved ever again, didn’t even realize that the start of the third quarter would be when his life would be upturned forever.

Because destiny can never be changed, and his fate had been sealed since before he even came into the locker room.