Chapter 26 Explosive News

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The morning sunlight streamed in through the dirty window, catching the drifting dust motes in the kitchen as Jace and Kyra stood frozen in place. Both siblings were covered in flour, looking like two lost ghosts in their own haunted house. Yara, still perched in her wheelchair, raised an eyebrow at the guilty pair, her stern gaze contrasting with the flour dust swirling around them.

"You two are impossible," she sighed, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. The tension in her brow softened. Even in a cramped kitchen with peeling wallpaper and flickering lights, there was something comforting about these lively moments.

Kyra giggled, throwing her head back and wiping a streak of flour from her cheek. "Sorry, Yara. I didn't mean to get messy. Blame Jace—he started it!"

"Big brother to you," Jace corrected, turning his best mock-serious look toward Kyra. He then pivoted to Yara with a sheepish grin. "We were just testing out a new pancake recipe. Flour flew in every direction by accident. Honest."

"Uh-huh," Yara replied dryly. With a sigh, she wheeled herself closer to the stove to survey the damage. The pan of pancakes sizzled quietly, the thick batter forming golden circles that smelled more appetizing than anything they'd had in a while. "If we're lucky, you two didn't ruin breakfast completely."

"Don't worry sis Pancakes are my go-to move," Jace stated as he stepped forward Using the last drops of milk, a cracked egg, and some flour salvaged from the minor kitchen war, Jace flipped the final pancake onto a chipped ceramic plate. In a matter of moments, all the ingredients were used up and a stack of golden-brown pancakes were stacked as his two sisters proceeded to deck the table.

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Yara dabbed a napkin at her mouth. "So," she began softly, "any more pain from the cuts? Are the bandages, okay?"

Jace paused mid-bite. He pressed his palm gently to the fresh bandage on his abdomen and was surprised to find that the pain was bearable. That dream with Coach Cash—if it really was a dream—seemed to have done wonders for him psychologically. "Nah, I'm good. Just a little twinge here and there. Nothing Ironman Jace can't handle," he joked, winking at Kyra.

"Thor is way better-looking brother," Kyra added, nodding sagely as she speared another pancake. "He said so himself."

Jace immediately glared at her on hearing her comment. "Is he better looking than me?" He asked as his free hand started to look for any projectile weapons he could use. "Of course, not Big Brother is the best looking."

"Good, I'll get you another pony with my first check," He replied with a bright smile as he proceeded to busy his mouth with another pancake. Yara seeing this interaction could only shake her head knowing that her little sister could wrap her big brother around her finger whenever she wanted.

Kyra seeing her look simply stuck out her tongue before continuing to eat her food. "I know you're worried Yaya, but I will be fine, and I won't let anyone risk all our hard work," Jace stated not making eye contact with his big sister as he continued eating but the mood around the table had already changed. "Those guys won't bother me for a while old man Willy's dogs bit a good chunk out of them. Just stay away from Malik, JT and them people, you two are all I care about so I will put my pride to the side as long as y'all are good."

Neither of the girls said anything and merely took in his words as they continued the rest of their breakfast in silence. Both girls were content with his decision Yara especially since she wouldn't have to worry about her brother escalating things. She knew that once he focused on something, nothing could derail him from reaching that destination.

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[01/07/2021]

[Jace POV]

Two weeks later my wounds had all but healed and I was able to return to dynamic workouts as only light skin scabs remained. My sisters had been worried about me but after multiple reassurances and promises to take things easy, they were convinced. Plus, it's not like I am some masochist who would insist on punishing his body without fully recovering.

Despite not being able to train rigorously he had done his best going through stretch routines and light yoga. He even lifted barbells with his feet trying to keep them busy whenever he felt restless at being able to train. If not for the project quarterback space whenever he went to sleep, he might have risked an injury just to train.

When he had gotten injured in the past, he had found it difficult to be patient even when injured. Those days were the worst as his body would subconsciously call for him to train and exert some effort. After that strange dream when he had gotten injured, he had thought it was just a fever-induced dream. However, the next day when he went to sleep, he once again appeared in front of the smiling figure of Coach Cash.

The location had changed to UCLA's home stadium the Rose Bowl Stadium which despite being empty loomed large over him. Coach Cash had directly pushed him into basic step and timing training as he worked on play reading. He hadn't been allowed to use any of the fancy target ranges but instead, Coach Cash helped him rework his throwing mechanics.

According to the man my mechanics had been good for my past self especially when the competition couldn't push him much. But my natural body developed over the years had caused my bones and muscles to become stronger and more compact brimming with strength. This made my throwing technique which was mostly backed by talent and genetics quite inadequate for the next level. Despite being ranked as the best quarterback in my class in the state of California I would need to change that or be chewed up at the next level.

So, I have been diligently going through all the exercises that Coach Cash had planned out for me without question. Most of it was just my body moving on its own in slow motion as my mind and body tried to ingrain the motions of every little detail. From the smallest twitch of the mussel and finger movement, I would go through this for at least an hour every day in that space.

The rest of the time was spent doing it personally as I tried to get used to the new form. After a while I started to feel the change in my release angle and the flick of the wrist, each new adjustment coming into sharper focus with every simulated repetition. It wasn't all good though as my control was practically non-existent and I would subconsciously go back to his old technique.

Sighing at how my life seemed to have changed over the last two weeks I plopped down on the sofa turning on ESPN with practised ease. Today was a special day which could potentially change my and every college athlete's future and present. The TV flickered on to showcase a morning talk show that was in full swing.

I sank into the plush cushions of the sofa, letting the morning light drift across my face as I watched the ESPN crew hash out their preseason predictions. On the screen, ESPN's morning crew sat around a sleek table, the ticker at the bottom rotating through bits of college football chatter. My ears perked up when I caught them mentioning the upcoming 2021–2022 season.

It lowkey felt surreal to see the hosts chatting about me as they talked about new recruits after last year's chaotic roller coaster. "…the real question," a familiar voice chimed in—it was Kirk Herbstreit, dressed in a dapper suit, "is how teams will bounce back from the uncertainty we saw last year. Roster instability, cancelled games…these coaches and programs have their work cut out for them."

On the other side of the table, Stephen A. Smith leaned forward. His voice dipped slightly. "If you ask me," he said, pointing a pen toward Kirk, "the top programs will do what they always do: find talent, develop it, and chase those national titles. Though we might see a shift in player commitment to rigid college rule if the NCAA passes the bill."

Max Kellerman raised an eyebrow. "You're referring to the NIL bill, right?"

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To Be Continued...