He threw up in a helmet.

Gross, Tyler thought. Now I have to put this on my head?

Then he saw a name, chicken-scratched on the inside. Thomas.

Oh no. This isn’t my helmet.

He looked around the room to see if Thomas was there. Unfortunately, he was. Thomas was standing in the centre of the locker room, warming up his throwing arm.

Tyler’s body ached as he sighed. A shiver ran through his spine. This was not what he imagined would happen on right before his first football game.

He imagined everyone chanting and pumping each other up. He imagined that coach giving a soul empowering speech. He imagined that he would witness someone else being sick with nervousness, and be secretly happy that it wasn’t him.

Today was far from how he imagined it.

The evidence of Tyler’s nervous state started to leak out the air holes in the helmet, making loud slapping noises when it hit the floor. The sound somehow amplified in the locker room, towering over the guys screaming and music blasting. As more and more seeped from the helmet, the quieter it got. And the quieter it got, the more nervous Tyler became.

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