Maddox:
The energy since walking off the field was electric.
We didn’t just win—we dominated. Every play, every yard gained felt like we were charging toward something bigger than a scoreboard. The stadium pulsed with heat and noise, lights bright overhead, students and fans roaring from the stands. My teammates were yelling, chest bumping, ripping off their helmets with wild grins and hoarse cheers. Gatorade was flying, coaches were shouting, and the announcer's voice barely cut through the chaos. It was pure, unfiltered victory.
But I couldn’t focus on any of it.
Because all I cared about was Jules.
I’d texted her before the party, just after the final whistle. It was loud, hectic, but all I wanted was her. For her to see me, sweaty and pumped and proud, and to know that the moment
