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if he could try.
    â€œSure,” Coach said in his gruff voice. “Work right into the rotation. You don’t need an invitation.”
    After the next play, Harrison stepped into the huddle beside the quarterback. Varnett said, “This is my spot, rookie.”
    Harrison didn’t move. He figured if Coach said he could have a turn, then he’d have it. Varnett tried to shove Harrison out of the way. Harrison turned and blasted him in the chest, knocking him backward so that he staggered into the group of players waiting for a turn. Varnett looked at Harrison with wide eyes.
    â€œCoach told me to go in.” Harrison turned back into the huddle without worrying about whether Varnett was going to come after him. Something told Harrison it would work out just fine.
    Coach barked the play as if nothing had happened. “Twenty-four lead.”
    Harrison knew from the playbook, and from watching and listening, that a “twenty-four lead” meant that the halfback—twenty—would get the ball and run it through the four hole—between the right guard and the right tackle—and that “lead” meant that after he took the handoff, he’d follow the fullback and run through the hole. The quarterback repeated the play and they broke the huddle. Harrison lined up behind Bulkowski, the fullback. Butterflies came to life in his stomach again. This would be his first real play and it felt hugely important.
    The quarterback shouted the cadence. “Blue fifty-seven, blue fifty-seven, set, hike!”
    Everyone took off, including Harrison. He followed the fullback, heading for the four hole. The quarterback extended the ball into Harrison’s stomach. Harrison panicked. The defensive linemen were shooting through the gaps like the offensive line was a leaky bucket.
    The ball dribbled to the ground, a disaster.
    Shouts filled the air.
    â€œFumble!”

Chapter Twenty-Three
    HARRISON DIDN’T THINK. HE just scooped up the ball and held it tight.
    CRASH!
    Someone blasted him from the side. Harrison spun and churned his legs, driving forward, hungry to at least get the ball back to the line of scrimmage so the broken play wouldn’t be a complete disaster. Another defensive player came at him. Harrison dipped his shoulder and exploded up, knocking him back. Harrison saw an opening in the line. He drove toward it, pumping his legs.
    A linebacker met him in the hole. They smashed into each other and Harrison spun again, keeping his balance and finding himself suddenly in some open space. He took off into the heart of the defense. Another lineman threw his arms around Harrison’s legs from behind. Harrison staggered, but his legs seemed to be working on their own and kept right on chugging. He broke free and accelerated, opening the gap between him and the biggest defenders.
    There was only a single safety left and when Harrison saw him, he didn’t try to run away but instead headed right for him, lowering his shoulder pad like a weapon and blasting through the safety, knocking him out of the way like he was a barn fly. Harrison heard the whistle, but he just kept running, all the way to the end zone, where he spiked the ball, bouncing it off the grass so that it flew through the air. He turned around with his fists raised to the sky.
    â€œTouchdown!”
    â€œHarrison!” Coach marched toward him, his face red as a fire engine. “You do that again, you’re off this team! Take five laps around the field, and you better make them fast !”
    Coach pointed toward the far end of the field. Everyone stared.
    Harrison had no idea what had happened. His mouth sagged open and a small, confused noise gurgled up from his throat.
    â€œGo!” Coach stabbed his finger in the air again.
    Harrison started to run.

Chapter Twenty-Four
    HARRISON HEARD THE TWEET of Coach’s whistle and the inside run continued without him. A single hot tear streaked past