The table was set with one of Cam's typical dinners: roast chicken and potatoes, accompanied by salad and warm rolls. Lily shook her plastic cup of orange juice while Cam served generous portions onto each plate, especially Andrew's, who eyed his serving with scrutiny, as if he were calculating calories and macros in his head. In fact, he was.
Moments earlier, both Cam and Mitchell had exchanged a quick glance when Willa walked into the kitchen, flustered, laughing, her hair a little messy, followed closely by Andrew. They didn't ask anything and simply sat down at the table as if nothing had happened.
"Are they…?" Andrew began, but Cam cut him off immediately, anticipating.
"Yes, every gram of your chicken has been counted, same with the potatoes and the salad. Eat in peace."
He was so used to Andrew's meticulousness about the weight of his meals that he didn't even argue about it anymore. For Cam, a food lover, it was almost impossible to understand such discipline. Although, in a way, it had done him some good: once, he would have served fried chicken with French fries and soda; now it was roast chicken with water or juice. Cooking healthier for Andrew ended up benefiting everyone.
"Great," Andrew murmured with a slight nod.
Willa looked at her plate and then at Andrew's, surprised. "I can't believe you eat all that."
"I have to eat or I'd lose muscle. I'm not a feather like you," Andrew said, seizing the chance to throw another jab.
A girl like Willa barely weighed around 110 pounds, maybe less. Andrew could weigh nearly twice that, which meant he needed far more calories than she did.
Willa shot him a glare, but couldn't help smiling faintly. "You're lucky you're muscular and don't have a single ounce of fat. Otherwise, believe me, I'd make fun of you."
Andrew allowed himself a slight smile.
Cam and Mitchell shared a quick, knowing glance, but said nothing.
Dinner went on in a warm atmosphere, the yellow light from the overhead lamp illuminating everyone's relaxed faces. The sound of cutlery against plates mixed with occasional laughter and light remarks.
After a few minutes, Cam looked at the clock hanging on the wall and smiled like someone waiting for a special moment. "It's time."
With a ceremonious gesture, he picked up the remote he had already placed beside his plate and turned on the dining room television.
"Time for what?" Willa asked curiously.
Mitchell, who saw it coming, answered for Cam in a resigned tone, "They're running a pregame show for tomorrow's match on ESPNU."
"Seriously?" Willa asked, surprised. "They didn't do that against Bosco."
"Yeah, looks like they want to give this game more exposure and buzz," Cam said enthusiastically.
There hadn't been a pregame show before the Bosco game since that one had been more of a gamble by ESPNU, and they weren't sure it was worth dedicating a 15-plus minute segment to a high school matchup announced less than a week in advance, something unusual.
"You'll be on TV again and it's not even game day, congrats," Willa said, looking at Andrew with a mix of respect and amusement.
Andrew barely lifted his eyes from his plate, without dramatics. "I won't be on. They'll do a rundown of both teams, name the coaches and key players. It's not exactly about me."
"Right, because the game is being broadcast nationally by the sheer grace of the Holy Spirit," Willa retorted with irony. "We all know it's because of you: your stats, your channel, all the media buzz you create."
Andrew didn't deny it. In fact, he smile. "They'll probably talk more about me than any other player."
"Shhh!" Cam interrupted, raising his hand solemnly as if in church. "It's starting."
On the screen, the ESPNU set appeared: a simple segment with two analysts and a host in the middle. The intro music marked the beginning of the pregame show.
The table fell into expectant silence, everyone except Lily, who kept playing with a roll instead of eating it.
On the screen, the ESPNU set appeared: a simple backdrop with red lights and a desk where two analysts sat with the host in the middle. The intro music played for a few seconds, and the host, in a firm voice, opened the segment:
[Good evening, everyone. We are on the eve of a historic showdown in the Trinity League: tomorrow, Mater Dei hosts Servite at Santa Ana Stadium. And you'll see it right here, live, nationwide.]
He paused briefly, letting the phrase sink in, then added, [After the record-breaking ratings from Mater Dei versus Bosco, 1.3 million viewers, the most-watched high school game in history, many are asking whether this matchup can repeat the feat.]
He turned to his fellow panelists. [What do you think? Can Mater Dei vs. Servite come close to those numbers?]
The first analyst, wearing a gray suit, spoke enthusiastically:
[Look, hitting 1.3 million again is tough, but the odds of breaking records are still there. Even if it falls a little short, say, it hits a million viewers, that would still be a massive success. To put it in context: nationally televised high school games usually draw between 250,000 and 500,000 viewers. The record before Mater Dei–Bosco was 1 million in 2005, when Nease from Florida faced Hoover from Alabama. Second place was 900,000. So if tomorrow's game hits a million, even if it's 300,000 below Bosco, it still goes straight into the top two all-time.]
The second analyst nodded, joining in:
[Exactly. The storyline is alive. People want to see how it ends. Andrew Pritchett-Tucker is no longer just a local name, he's nationally recognized. His online community is massive, he drives audiences like we've never seen at the high school level. That fanbase guarantees a huge baseline. And with Servite and Mater Dei both undefeated, fighting for the Trinity League crown, the hype is locked in.]
Cam let out a small audible squeal and clapped enthusiastically.
Willa, watching the TV, turned to Andrew. "See? Told you. Not even five minutes in and they already mentioned you. Not your legendary coach, not any other player, you."
Andrew, fork halfway to his mouth, just shrugged. There wasn't much to add.
On the screen, the analysts began shifting the conversation toward the game itself.
[Let's talk about Servite,] said the host. [They come in undefeated: 4–0 in the Trinity League, 6–0 overall if you count the two September non-conference games. It's a solid program with a clear identity since Troy Thomas took over in 2005. Since then, they've racked up three league titles and, of course, last year's CIF Southern Section Pac-5 Division championship.]
The first analyst chimed in:
[Exactly. 2009 was historic for them, and this season they want to repeat the feat. The truth is, they've won every game, but by tight margins. Even against Bosco, the difference was razor-thin. No blowout wins by two or three possessions.]
[And that's where the inevitable comparison comes in: Mater Dei beat Bosco by more than twenty points. That's unprecedented, practically unthinkable. The difference, of course, has a name,] the second analyst said, without needing to repeat it, everyone already knew who he was talking about.
The broadcast cut to highlight footage: Andrew firing a 50-yard pass against Orange Lutheran, then running into the red zone against Bosco.
[Andrew is averaging five touchdowns per game,] the man continued. [He's an offensive machine, and most of those passes are deep shots. That's the big question for tomorrow: can Servite's tough defense stop this kid?]
At the dinner table, Cam was practically vibrating in his seat.
Mitch, meanwhile, took a sip of water, his brow furrowed. The media pressure unsettled him; putting that kind of weight on the shoulders of a sixteen-year-old couldn't be healthy. But when he looked over at Andrew, calmly eating his chicken as if the television were talking about someone else entirely, he relaxed a little.
Cam, on the other hand, was far more enthusiastic about everything Andrew generated. It was like a Broadway musical: lights, applause, and him, thrilled to see his son at the center of the stage. He never imagined that the first time he gave Andrew a rubber football at the age of five it would lead to this level of both athletic achievement and fame.
[That's why the Trinity League is the toughest in the country. Two nationally ranked top-20 teams already facing off this early in what feels like a final, both strong contenders for their section and even state championships,] said the analyst in a serious tone.
[Exactly,] the host agreed. [But let's start with the main figures from Servite… their senior quarterback: Cody Fajardo.]
The screen showed footage of Servite's quarterback, number 12 in the black jersey, throwing on the move.
The first analyst spoke:
[Cody is having an outstanding senior season. Last year he was already the starter for the entire campaign, winning both the league and section titles, though his numbers were a bit more modest than now. This year he's exploded: through six games he has 20 touchdowns. That's more than three per game. If he keeps up this pace, he could approach legendary seasons like Matt Barkley's, who put up 35 TDs in 10 games with Mater Dei.]
Cody's stats appeared on screen:
-20 total TDs in 6 games
-1,555 passing yards (averaging 260 per game)
-4 interceptions
The second analyst added:
[He's not just any prospect. Cody Fajardo is already ranked as a four-star recruit, with several major offers on the table. He hasn't made a verbal commitment yet, but all signs point to him signing with a powerhouse program in February.]
Then they mentioned Servite's other star: Troy Niklas, defensive lineman. He had been named Lineman of the Year by the Los Angeles Times last season, considered an even bigger leader than Cody in guiding the team to its shared league and section championship.
While the screen continued breaking down Servite's defensive scheme, Willa narrowed her eyes, a little lost among so many names and numbers.
"Sorry for the ignorance…" she said, looking at Andrew. "But if this Cody guy seems that good, how come he only has four stars? From what I heard, his numbers are close to Barkley's, and everyone says Barkley was number one of his class and won that… Gatorade award, right? Plus, last year Cody was a league and section champion as the starter. I don't get why four and not five. Same with that Troy guy."
Andrew set down his fork for a moment and adjusted himself in his chair.
"Five-star players are an absolute minority. Every national class, that means all the recruits in the country, has at most between 25 and 35 five-star players. And we're talking about thousands of kids being evaluated."
Willa listened closely, her surprise growing the more Andrew spoke.
"In California, which is a powerhouse, you usually get two, maybe three… with luck four five-star players a year. Generally, on a top team you'll have three or four four-star recruits, and if it's a really strong class, maybe five. The rest are three-stars, who are still serious prospects for Division I FBS programs," Andrew explained calmly.
"And Cody?" she asked.
"Even though his stats look really good at the start of this season, when they update the rankings after the Trinity League, he'll probably rise in position, but he'll stay a four-star. He doesn't meet certain physical requirements: height, arm strength, frame… And while his numbers are solid, his system helps him a lot. Honestly, many people consider Troy Niklas the real leader of the team."
"And you?" Willa pressed. She already knew the answer, Andrew had been a five-star prospect since Dana Hills, but she wanted to hear it from him.
"Luckily, my height, arm, and frame check the boxes…" Andrew said, and in truth, he surpassed them. "And my production stands out beyond that. With Palisades I won six titles with 132 touchdowns. That made me a four-star prospect."
Those stats alone had put him on the national radar, even though they came in lower divisions, since he wasn't inflated by a system and threw plenty of medium and deep passes.
"When I proved I could replicate the same thing at Dana Hills, that's when they gave me the fifth star," Andrew concluded, taking a calm sip of water.
'Wow… and he says it like it's nothing,' Willa thought, watching him with a mix of surprise and fascination.
Cam and Mitchell half-listened to the conversation while keeping their eyes on the TV. For them, it wasn't new, they lived with that fact every day, though every time they heard it, it still sounded unreal.
"So, you're the only five-star at Mater Dei, right?" Willa asked.
Before Andrew could answer, a little voice interrupted from the far end of the table.
"My brother is the best!" exclaimed Lily, her mouth smeared with chicken and her hands still clutching a half-dismantled roll.
Andrew turned to her immediately, his expression lighting up.
"See that?" he said, leaning toward Lily with a proud, playful smile. "Your brother's awesome, right?"
Lily nodded vigorously, as if she had just confirmed the most obvious truth in the world.
Andrew beamed from ear to ear, shamelessly basking in his little sister's praise, so different from how he usually shrugged or responded with cool detachment when people brought up his stats or the newspapers wrote about him. Here, he truly enjoyed being idolized by her.
Willa watched him, feeling a strange, tender knot form in her chest.
On the television, the analysts moved on to talk about Mater Dei, and Cam turned the volume up.
[Mater Dei, a historic program coming off a rather inconsistent season,] announced the host, as footage appeared on screen of the team taking the field with Andrew leading them out.
The first analyst spoke:
[Last year was a season many labeled disappointing. Yes, they shared the Trinity League title, but they fell in the section quarterfinals. Nine games in total: four league wins, one loss, they advanced past the round of 16, but stopped in the quarters. And the toughest part: in the two September non-conference games, they lost both, starting off on a very poor note.]
The second analyst nodded, adding:
[Exactly. The finish wasn't terrible, they picked it up in league play, but overall, it was a gray year for a program of Mater Dei's stature. That's why what we're seeing in this season is so surprising: already 6–0 overall, a perfect 4–0 in Trinity League. And it's not just the record… it's how they're doing it.]
On screen, Andrew's stats appeared:
-30 total touchdowns in 6 games. Average: 5 TDs per game!
-2,105 passing yards (average 350 per game)
-1 interception
[With Andrew Pritchett-Tucker under center, everything changed,] the analyst continued. [What we're seeing are dominant wins, margins of 15, 20 points, something almost unheard of in Trinity League. And it all peaked with his seven-touchdown performance against Bosco, the best individual outing we've ever seen at this level of competition. Even Mater Dei's own head coach said so.]
The image shifted: clips of Bruce Rollinson in a quick midweek interview. The veteran coach, arms crossed and face serious, responding to a reporter's question.
[What are your thoughts on Andrew's performance against Bosco? Seven touchdowns, zero interceptions, over 400 yards…]
[In all my years coaching Mater Dei, over two decades, that was the best performance I've ever seen from a quarterback in this program. No question,] Bruce answered without hesitation.
Andrew was pleasantly surprised to hear this. Praise like that from Bruce was rare, and it truly felt good to be recognized that way, especially considering how many talented players had passed through the program's history.
The broadcast returned to the ESPNU set, where the host raised his eyebrows with a smile.
[There you have it. Big words coming from someone who's seen Barkley, Leinart, and other legendary names come through.]
Cam let out a sigh that was almost a sob of pride, pressing a hand to his chest as if he himself had just received the compliment.
Mitchell, on the far end of the table, merely tilted his head and blew air through his nose, a mix of resignation and mild concern at the weight of expectations being piled onto his son.
On screen, the analysts kept going through Mater Dei's roster: the offensive line giving Andrew time, receivers who had shined, like Victor in the Bosco game, and a defense holding strong, led by Kevin, a four-star prospect.
[Alright, gentlemen, we're at the end. But before we go, I have to ask: predictions for tomorrow. Who wins, and how many touchdowns do you think Andrew will throw?] asked the host.
The first analyst let out a small laugh, glancing at a screen with Andrew's stats displayed. He was surprised every time he read them.
[Look at those numbers… just in Trinity League, meaning in four games, he's thrown 21 touchdowns. That's an average of 5.25. His league production is already ahead of Barkley's: in his 35-touchdown season, at this same point, four league games in, he had 14 touchdowns…]
He left a brief silence to let the words sink in.
[If he repeats his average tomorrow, he'd be matching Barkley's best season, the one that earned him the Gatorade Player of the Year award.]
The analyst shifted in his chair, speaking with a serious expression, [So, for me, even though Servite is a very tough opponent, Mater Dei will take the win. A tighter margin, but a win nonetheless. And Andrew… four touchdowns.]
The second analyst nodded.
[I agree. This is the toughest rival in the league, probably the best prepared defensively, but when you have a five-star recruit with this kind of confidence and production, stopping him is extremely difficult. I say Mater Dei wins, and Andrew adds another five touchdowns.]
The host closed the program with an incredulous look, staring straight at the camera:
[Listen carefully to what we're saying. We're debating whether he'll throw four or five touchdowns tomorrow. In any other context, two or three would already be a stellar performance at this level. But that's the reality with Andrew Pritchett-Tucker. All that's left is to wait for kickoff tomorrow from Santa Ana Stadium, right here on ESPNU.]
The closing music played. Cam clapped excitedly. Mitchell sighed and went back to his plate.
Dinner carried on without further events. Andrew's phone started buzzing constantly, no doubt because of the pregame show that had just aired on TV.
After a light dessert of apple pie, Willa said goodbye to Cam, Mitchell, and Lily, and Andrew walked her out.
The cool night wrapped around them as they stepped outside.
"Dinner was delicious," she said as they walked toward the car, keys twirling in her fingers. "Tomorrow I'll see you at the stadium… though I doubt you'll have time to glance at the stands."
"I'll look for you," Andrew said. "And thanks for the acting lessons, even if you're too strict and make fun of me all the time."
Willa laughed, shrugging. "You're welcome. It's fun teaching you… and honestly, watching you get a little frustrated is fun too."
Andrew shook his head, amused. "I'd appreciate it if you weren't that strict."
"Alright, I'll try…" she replied with a wink, though both knew she wasn't going to change much. "We've still got plenty of lessons until Halloween."
If they kept going every day like they had been, it meant more than ten days together, at least an hour each time, like tonight, when she'd even stayed for dinner.
Andrew nodded. "Yeah, until Halloween."
They stopped in front of the car. Willa opened the door, turned back to him with a faint smile, and, without another word, waved goodbye. Andrew returned the smile, lifting his hand in farewell.
The engine roared to life, and with headlights cutting through the street, the car drove off until it disappeared around the corner. Andrew stood for a moment, staring into the darkness, before finally heading back toward the house.
He needed to get to bed early, tomorrow was an important day.
-------------------------------------------------
You can read 15 chapters in advance on my patreon.
Link: https://[email protected]/Nathe07