Tight End

When Ryan arrived at the field, the crowd that had been chatting and laughing all turned to look at him, the faces of these teenagers filled with scrutiny and curiosity.

Ryan's gaze swept over them in turn. American football is a sport of three-in-one—tactics and teamwork, reaction and speed, strength and height/weight—all equally important.

The teammates before him came in all shapes and sizes: the short and compact were Running Backs, the skinny-armed, thin-legged ones with good hops played Wide Receiver, the burly and solid were linemen, and those with good passing arms played Quarterback.

As for Ryan's position, Tight End, it was the most unique of all. Standing on the edge of the line, responsible for both blocking and receiving, it had the strictest physical requirements—needing both speed and the ability to withstand the opposing line's impact.

A good Tight End puts immense pressure on the opponent; a bad one is worse than a sack of sand. It's a position with a high ceiling and a low floor. Because Tight Ends are so difficult to use, most high school coaches don't bother with them at all, instead swapping the position for an Offensive Guard.

So when they heard Ryan say he played Tight End, quite a few people on the scene shook their heads. The current team's playbook had no room for a Tight End.

"What a shame. A real shame," the Quarterback said, shaking his head.

Ryan hadn't seen the coach yet, so he didn't say much. He followed the others to change clothes on the grass. When he took off his shirt, his underwear-model-level chiseled muscles instantly set off the cheerleaders gathering nearby, and someone let out a scream.

"I'm practically drooling!"

"The top or the bottom?"

"Both, of course!"

Not far away, in the stands, Abigail heard the cheerleaders' unabashedly lewd comments and fumed, crossing her arms. "Those bi... ei... bitches!"

Seeing that someone had already walked over to offer him a drink, Taylor, sitting beside Abigail, couldn't help but frown.

Just moments ago, she had finally gotten her graduation paperwork. Her mother had already gone back, and she planned to stay and celebrate properly with Abigail. But before she knew it, Abigail had dragged her to the field. Taylor's younger brother was also on the football team, but as an underclassman, he was just a substitute.

On the field, faced with the cheerleader's proactive advances, Ryan politely declined the drink she offered, feeling that it was better to keep a low profile in a new environment.

Just then, the football team's coach arrived at the field, and at his request, Ryan began introducing himself to everyone.

Then the coach brought up their next opponent: "If we can't beat Gallatin High School, we'll be eliminated from the race for the State Champion early..."

State Champion? That's a 6A Level Competition, isn't it? Ryan's heart sank.

From Abigail's reaction earlier, he had thought Hendersonville wasn't that strong. He never expected they were in the top tier of Tennessee—two levels higher than his previous high school.

As he was thinking, today's training had already begun. Besides the initial skill drills, the main event of the day was an intra-team scrimmage.

As the only Tight End on the entire high school team, Ryan, the newcomer, got a chance to play.

"Go get 'em, boy."

Ryan heard enthusiastic cheers from the cheerleaders not far away, which made several other male football players snort coldly. Ryan had practically stolen all the girls' attention, so they naturally had no good will toward him and were ready to give this new guy "special treatment."

"This isn't good. Ryan's going to get hurt." Abigail said from the stands, extremely worried. She saw that the players matched up against Ryan were all starters from the defensive line—big and tall. Even Ryan, at six foot one, looked "petite and delicate" next to them.

"It's just a scrimmage. Why are you so worked up?" Taylor sneered. Unlike the lovesick cheerleaders down below, she had seen plenty of handsome guys. After interacting with him a bit, she didn't think Ryan was anything special.

On the field, the scrimmage officially began. Ryan collided heavily with the Defensive End, feeling like his internal organs were rattling.

On the line, the offense and defense had opposite roles. The defensive linemen were all experienced pass rushers who knew how to use their physical advantages. On top of that, these guys were playing at the 6A level, much stronger than the players in Ryan's memory. In their first encounter, Ryan was blown past head-on, watching helplessly as the Defensive End tackled the scrambling Running Back.

After four consecutive offensive plays, Ryan's "strong side" became a sieve, getting broken through repeatedly. Some teammates started voicing doubts.

Ryan felt a bit embarrassed. On the next few plays, he gave it his all to block, and though he still got beaten, he managed to slow the opponent down somewhat.

"Mediocre," Taylor muttered from the stands. She didn't think Ryan's arrival would change anything for her alma mater's team.

But on the sidelines, the coaching staff was pointing at Ryan and discussing him heatedly. Their assessment of Ryan was completely different from Taylor's.

"Blocking the defensive line while covering for two underclassman substitutes! This transfer student is terrifying!"

"He's going up against Tennessee's strongest offensive line!"

The defensive and offensive line coaches spoke respectively. Only they knew that this newcomer had been facing an extremely unfair matchup from the very start.

"Don't rush. That's just what he can do on the line," the head coach, who had fought to keep Ryan on the team, said slowly, implying that Ryan's full value hadn't been shown yet.

On the next offensive play, Ryan charged straight at the defensive line, just like before. But this time, the difference was that at the moment of contact, Ryan chose to sidestep, slipping right between two defenders. After looking up and reading the field, he jumped, caught the football easily, and sprinted twenty yards before being tackled.

On the very next play, Ryan used a fake move to create another gap, carrying the ball another five yards.

Now only fifteen yards from a touchdown, Ryan charged forward again after the snap. Seeing he had drawn the attention of two defenders, he slammed on the brakes to set a block, allowing the Running Back behind him to score an easy touchdown under Ryan's cover.

"As the line of scrimmage gets closer to the end zone, the Tight End's offensive advantage grows..." the head coach finally revealed the truth. "This Tight End might just become the Assault Team's (team name) biggest trump card this year!"

Ryan's performance was plain for everyone to see, sending the cheerleaders on the sidelines into a frenzy. Though the other players muttered, "We've never had to defend a Tight End before; we got careless," the earlier contempt for Ryan had vanished. He had earned everyone's respect with his ability.

The two girls in the stands couldn't help but scream!

"Did you see that charge just now?! He runs so fast!" Abigail stood up and clapped.

Taylor pursed her lips, having to admit she had underestimated Ryan before.

That bastard isn't just a pretty face... Taylor watched Ryan take off his helmet on the field, sweat glistening like diamonds in the sunlight. Her heartstrings twitched almost imperceptibly, and the image of the steamy scene in the car a few days ago flashed through her mind.

The guys who made the football team were always the best physical specimens. Like most young American women, Taylor had a bit of a "football filter." This would be proven true years later with another Tight End.

But then she recalled his sinister face when he threatened her, and that faint flicker of goodwill toward Ryan vanished without a trace.

"Stop pretending. You like him, don't you!" Abigail leaned down, scrutinizing her friend.

"I told you, I'm not interested in him," Taylor shook her head repeatedly.

"Oh, really? Then why did you take him to the recording studio and play him your song? No one else gets that treatment." Abigail smiled, pointing out Taylor's preferential treatment of Ryan.

Taylor broke out in a sweat, stammering a hurried explanation: "That's because he's Trey's nephew. I promised him I'd shoot an MV, but now that shoot is canceled. Out of respect for Trey, I had to give him some kind of compensation."

"Are you really that concerned about what Trey thinks? If it were someone else, you wouldn't give them the time of day," Abigail pressed on.

"I honestly have no feelings for him." Taylor curled the corner of her mouth, striking a believe-it-or-not pose.

"Really?"

"Really."

Abigail nodded, as if convinced.

Taylor breathed a sigh of relief, though she couldn't figure out why she'd felt pressured just now.

Then Abigail shifted the conversation: "So do you consider me a good friend?"

"Of course, you're the first friend I made when I came to Nashville!"

"Then what if I needed your help?"

"As long as it's within my power, I'd... wait... you don't mean..." Taylor suddenly caught on.

"That's right." Abigail nodded. "He doesn't have a girlfriend, does he?"