Another successful extra point pushed the score out to 21–10. The Monarchs had their two-possession lead.
But the half wasn't done. There was only a minute left on the clock, but that was plenty of time on the gridiron.
The Monarchs kicked off, and Chris caught the ball a yard into the end-zone. He assessed the field; the Monarchs came as fast as ever, but he took off this time.
Precious seconds ticked away, and he didn't get far. He was slammed down at the Dons' 21. He spiked the ball down as he got up, frustrated by the short return, frustrated with himself for making such a stupid decision. But he couldn't sit there and do nothing … it always felt like he did nothing.
With how little time there was remaining, and how long it typically took the Dons to move the ball, Coach Long started the drive cautiously with another run up the middle.
Chris protected the ball, but even with JJ leading the way, he squeaked out 4 yards. It wasn't bad, but wasn't great.
Then a timeout was called.
Coach Long looked around in confusion for a second, but neither Coach Norman nor Coach Hoang had overstepped their bounds and called a timeout in his stead. Jay and the other offensive captains hadn't signalled for one either. It was the Monarchs who had called it.
Even with only two timeouts left—one now—and less than a minute on the clock, the Monarchs thought they could squeeze in another drive, and with their heavy firepower, even one play held the potential of a touchdown.
Coach Long shook his head. A smile tugged at his lips. He didn't agree with the Monarchs' Coach's decision, but he respected it.
Coach Long kept the ship steady throughout the timeout. They wouldn't let their opponent's mind-games frazzle them. They'd stick to the plan, and go for another run. Once the cards were all on the table, then they could make their move. Whether that was to fold or go all in was yet to be seen.
The Monarchs stuck with their plan. Another Chris-led run behind JJ's lead only earned the Dons 2 yards, and the Monarchs used their last timeout.
The Monarchs were definitely showing their cards, and the chips were down. It was time for Coach Long to play his hand.
Chris and JJ stayed on the bench when the timeout was over and the Dons' offence returned to the field. They wouldn't run a third time, not with the way the Monarchs were waiting on it. Sure, they could run the clock out so there was less than ten seconds left before they'd have to punt, but that'd still give the Monarchs the one play they desperately wanted.
They went for a pass, a short one, infield. One that was almost guaranteed to result in a completion unless the worst happened and the Receiver dropped it, but one that could still earn them the 4 little yards they needed for another first down.
The pass was to Benny, not Stephen as most might've assumed when Jay kept the ball instead of handing it off to Cameron. Benny, after a shimmy inside then a quick hook Curl to the outside, caught the ball.
Cole's Slant route moved him into the perfect position to run interference and lay a block on the LB covering Benny, though the CB covering Cole reacted quickly—like most Monarchs did—and moved down to tackle Benny.
But Benny expected this and didn't shy away from the contact; he backed into it. When he felt the smaller body against him, he kept churning his legs and forcing his way back, dragging the lighter Monarch with him as they backed their way towards the Monarchs' end-zone.
They didn't get that far, not by a long shot. They tumbled over together for a gain of five yards. It was just enough for the first down with an extra yard to spare, and as soon as Benny hit the ground, Coach Long called timeout.
He congratulated Benny; the play worked perfectly, and that was the exact effort he wanted to see out of everyone. With that example in mind, and the fresh set of downs to work with, it was time to throw the conservative plan out the window and make the Monarchs pay for their greed.
If the Monarchs wanted one last drive, Coach Long would give them one, but it'd be a DONS drive, and it'd be the Monarchs holding on, desperate to prevent their opponents from sneaking in more points before the half.
Chris returned to the field, replacing Cameron, but the Dons wouldn't be running. There was no time for running. Even the most casual fans in the stands knew that, so Coach Kirby most certainly did too.
But just because the Monarchs knew the Dons were passing, didn't mean they could stop them.
The ball was snapped. Jay had to work quickly. He looked Stephen's way, arm cocking back. They were going for their trusty 5-yard Out again. Bright-eyed Twenty-One saw it, eyes locked on Jay. He wouldn't miss his chance for a third time.
The CB dashed ahead, already preparing to launch; he'd need his best jump to reach the heights for the interception he deserved. The Dons had underestimated him for too long.
But Jay didn't throw the ball, and as Twenty-One came down to intercept, Stephen cut back upfield, running along the sideline.
Jay rearmed and lobbed the ball over as Twenty-One scrambled around, chasing after Stephen.
Stephen caught the ball a couple of steps ahead of Twenty-One, but even with the head start, the Monarch was closing quickly. Stephen cradled the ball and put his head down, running as hard as he could.
When Twenty-One wrapped up his legs and tried to pull him down, Stephen limped onwards, dragging him forward another yard or two before falling out of bounds.
The only difference between Stephen's fall and that of a tree's was no one yelled "TIMBER" as the giant came crashing down.
Stephen's catch and run was good for 14 yards, pushing the Dons ever closer to half-field. Most importantly, as Stephen fell out of bounds, it stopped the clock.
The Dons had found their groove, and they kept the ball rolling. Jay went back to Stephen, and this time they went for the Out. No tricks. However, Twenty-One was frozen by indecision. He didn't want to get burned by another fake, so he was slow to react to the play. Stephen caught the ball and stepped out just before Twenty-One slammed into him.
Stephen grinned down at the smaller Monarch. 'I got you figured out. Unless you can grow wings, skittering around like a cockroach ain't gonna help you anymore.'
Twenty-One sneered up at him. 'You haven't figured out shit.'
The Dons were keeping things quick, so Stephen only laughed in response before he jogged back to the huddle.
Keeping to the air, Jay dropped back in the pocket on the next play. It was just a shallow drop-back, and after looking Stephen's way, his head snapped around to Cole.
The Monarchs' DBs—knowing the Dons lacked time—were shading towards the sideline. They knew team's targeted the sideline to stop the clock in these two-minute drills, and protecting them had been drilled into their heads repeatedly.
But that left openings in the middle of the field and made the Monarchs even jumpier to get outside. Off a step, Cole faked outside, then exploded inwards on a Slant. Jay whipped the ball over, and Cole caught it on his chest, turning upfield.
He burst ahead, ducking low, burrowing through tackles. He didn't get far, but it was a quick burst and the 7 yards he gained was good for another first down.
The Dons used their second-last timeout. They were on the verge of field goal range, and Coach Long welcomed them like they'd scored a touchdown.
'Great job everybody! That's perfect. Keep up the good work. We're almost there, just a bit further.'
The Dons caught their breath, prepared for the final charge. Their fires were still roaring as they stepped back onto the field. Stephen was still grinning when he stepped up to Twenty-One. He was taking great joy in punishing the Monarchs for their arrogance.
'I gotchu all figured out, cockroach,' Stephen said.
Twenty-One snarled. The ball was snapped. Stephen burst forward, then snapped to the outside. The Out again! It was like the Dons were taunting Twenty-One, like they thought he couldn't stop such a simple play.
He came forward, throwing himself onto the hook. Stephen stopped, reversed his momentum and cut back to the middle at an angle.
Twenty-One grit his teeth, following the movement. He kept up with Stephen, but now they were neck and neck. The pass came in, high. Stephen leaned into Twenty-One, an elbow against his chest. Twenty-One was right there, but he couldn't get any space to jump!
Stephen stretched up, catching the ball as Twenty-One flailed. He dragged the lighter defender along for a couple of yards, turning the reception into an 11-yard gain before he was finally brought down.
The Dons were within field goal range, but time was running out. They used their last timeout with just under 10 seconds left.
Stephen stood, dusting himself off and laughing. 'So easy.' He didn't even look at Twenty-One as he sauntered off the field.
Twenty-One looked as if he'd explode. His teammates told him to get his shit together and stop dragging them down.
After the timeout, Coach Long's plan was simple. The Dons had just enough time for one shot into the end-zone, though if the pass wasn't there, and nobody was open, Jay was to throw the ball out of bounds with just enough time remaining so they could set up their field goal.
They tried, and Jay scanned the field quickly, but the speedy Monarchs had all the deep routes covered. So he threw the ball away, and the kicking unit took the field.
To end the half, the Dons punished the Monarchs' over-aggressive timeout usage by putting 3 more points on the board, and cutting the game back down to one possession.
As both teams entered their locker rooms, the score read: 21–13.
Both sides still had questions to answer, problems to solve. For the Monarchs—even though they put up three touchdowns—it was how to get their offence flowing. BT was being stunted too much for his and Coach Kirby's liking.
Coach Kirby believed the Jet Sweep was the key to it all. BT stared at the wall, repeating a mantra in his head. "Ain't nobody faster than me. Nobody can catch the Bullet Train."
Defensively, it was much simpler—they just had to stop getting suckered in by fakes and tricks. They were the better team, that's what they were told; the only way the Dons could beat them was through tricks.
Over with the Dons, Coach Hoang and the defence still had the tricky Bullet Train conundrum to figure out. It felt like either Coach Hoang could give Ty some help and leave the rest of the team out to dry, or leave Ty alone and let him take the bullet for the team.
'Samuels, you gotta get your shit together. I can't have Richardson keep covering for you. Can you beat this guy or not?'
Ty looked at Coach Hoang like he'd just slapped Meg. 'Of course I'm fast enough.'
That wasn't exactly the question Coach Hoang had asked, but he didn't bring it up. The conviction Ty said it with was good enough.
'I can catch him,' Ty muttered. The words were to convince himself as much as they were for Coach Hoang.
Offensively, the solution was a deeper mystery, one Coach Long and Coach Norman couldn't quite unravel. 'We can't keep relying on the same plays,' Coach Norman said.
'How do we stop their incredible speed?' Coach Long said, pondering.
Neither man seemed to have a solution, but they'd have a while longer to figure out the problem of the Monarchs' defence, as the Monarchs started the second half with the ball.
The kickoff went flying out the back of the end-zone for a touchback, and the Monarchs started at their 25. The crowd was as excited as ever to see the Bullet Train roll onto the field.
BT and Ty glared at one another but said nothing. Each boy carried the same thought: "I'm faster than you."
Despite what Ty said during the half-time break, and Coach Hoang believing in his conviction, he still needed to be safe, and so for the first play, Zayden covered for Ty over the top.
Even as BT pulled away from Ty, Zayden was there to stop him, and the rest of the Monarchs were covered on their typical Verticals the Monarchs liked to open their drives with.
Brett threw the ball away after holding onto the ball away. Donte hadn't got close, didn't even pressure him. He came back to the Dons' huddle, frustrated. Shaq was still impassable … for now.
The teams lined up opposite each other. BT shook his head. 'Admit you ain't beating me, mon. Why you always got that Two-Face bitch out there watching your back?'
'I don't need him to beat you,' Ty said.
'You don't even believe that yourself, mon.'
Ty didn't waver. 'I'm faster than you.'
BT scoffed. 'That's my line.'
The ball was snapped, BT rushed forward. He didn't angle enough away from Ty, nor did he lower down enough. The spear hit him flush and stopped him in his tracks.
Still, Zayden looked that way. Deshaun was left on his own, and with the speed difference between him and his man, he was beaten by a Curl again.
He recovered better this time, and before his man could whirl around and pick up a few extra yards, crashed into them and dragged them down. The gain was good for 9 yards, but that's all. The Monarchs were pushed to third down, even if they only needed a single yard to get the first.
The Dons trusted their run defence to get the stop, and the Monarchs trusted Brett's arm more than JaMychal's legs.
Zayden was back in his central position, and with both sides of the field under threat, he was stuck in no-man's-land. The Play-Action didn't help, freezing him up further. The key thing was, this meant BT had the tracks all to himself. Though Ty was a nuisance, that just wouldn't go away.
Ty didn't care about the Play-Action, he was never focused on it, only on BT. BT got by the spear once again, slipping past barely. He burst into a sprint, hitting top speed as fast as someone could switch from first to second.
Ty jumped gears with him, and the two ran. BT started pulling away, of course, but something felt off, like he was being dragged back by some invisible weight. He'd trained for this. He'd dragged Coach Kirby up and down the practice field countless times, but this was different, like something pulling on his legs every time he lifted his feet.
He looked back for the ball and saw Ty was close. Much too close. But he wasn't grabbing him and holding him back, so what the hell was that sensation?
The ball spiralled closer in the corner of his vision. BT had forgotten about it. He readjusted quickly, too quickly, and the ball bounced off his arms before dropping to the ground.
The crowd deflated, a sound like the dying hiss of a balloon echoed around the field. BT stumbled to a stop and stared down at his hands. What was wrong with him? He looked back, but Ty was already heading back to his team, head down.
Ty couldn't accept that. What a hollow victory. He wouldn't even call it such. It tasted like shit in his mouth. He spat on the field as he turned towards the Dons' bench. But he was waved back onto the field; the Monarchs were going for it on fourth down.
The rest of the Monarchs had shaken off BT's drop. Shit happened. They knew from early in the season that sometimes BT just got the yips, sure the issues had been ironed out by the time they made it to Regionals, but they couldn't blame the sprinter too much.
BT himself, however, was still shaken up. "It's just a bad day. Maybe I ate something." Of course, bad days happened, even to the best. Bolt didn't break his world record every race. … But it'd never felt like this before.
He had to shake it off; they were calling his name again. When Brett motioned for him, he started off across the field. Ty followed, sprinting across from the beginning.
But it was another fake. BT came away from the interaction with Brett empty handed. The ball went to JaMychal instead.
JaMychal powered through the middle. All he needed was a yard, and with the defence's focus on stopping BT—like they always were, no one ever cared about him, he doubted he even showed up on the scouting reports—they wouldn't even realise he had the ball until he already had the first down.
A gap in the Line parted for him. He smirked, veering towards it. His mouth dropped open when JJ came barrelling through the gap.
JaMychal tried to swerve out of the way, but JJ was like a heat-seeking missile. He slammed into JaMychal and speared him into the ground like he was trying to break him in half.
The ball bounced free. The Monarchs dove on it. Still, they'd lost a yard, and it was a turnover on downs. It was the Dons' ball, and they were already within scoring range.