secrets of his

the game.

Thomas took a deep shuddering breath as he stood rigid on the field. he let his eyes wander over to the crowd, scanning the strange faces in search of familiar ones- after a moment his eyes landed on the gladers, newt was there too- he wasn't looking at Thomas though, he was talking in what looked like whispers to aris.

Thomas forced himself to look back to the pitch- it was the beacon hills cyclones against cronwell crows- it was the toughest game they would face that season but Thomas had high hopes. as he looked at each of the opposing team in detail he saw how beefy they were- they looked like they could tear a kid to shreds with one hand, Thomas knew to win this he would need more evasion tactics and weaving skills instead of brute strength- he just hoped the rest of the team had made that observation.

he looked to his left at a nervous Isaac, Isaac looked back and mimed weaving subtly with his hand. Thomas nodded in agreement- so he got it. he looked to his right where scott was, not even looking near his vicinity. Thomas knew that people like Jackson would let their egos win and try push through the brick wall equivalent of humans. he shook his head in irritation, it looked like it was him and Isaac. sadly Minho and gally were currently benched due to never showing up to a single practice- Thomas wasn't much  better at attending but he also proved himself and honestly- coach had a bit of a soft spot for him now.

speaking of the devil: coach strode out to them, they all grouped around him to listen, get some coach wisdom before the match. he apparently was trying to give a motivational speech.

"there are three rules that I live by: never get less than twelve hours sleep, never play cards with a guy who has the same first name as a city, and never get involved with a woman with a tattoo of a dagger on her body. now you stick to that, and everything else is cream cheese"

they looked at him in silence for a moment. Isaac looked like he was about to have an annyeurism trying to understand and eventually piped up with

"uh- what?"
coach stared at him as if he were thick.

"im saying that you guys can wipe the floor with these flying rats, just... don't get hit in the face. well you can greenburg- no one cares if you do. now get in your positions"

he yelled the last half and they did so. Thomas clutched his stick harder in his hands, he didn't bother to look at any of the pack on field, knowing they were either glaring daggers at him or ignoring his existence, safe to say he didn't make a very good last impression. he wish he could find the time to care.

the whistle was blown and the ball was chucked up, it seemed to move in slow motion. Thomas felt like face palming as he saw Jackson instantly lunge for it, expecting to knock the bulky man standing there to the side.thomas jogged back quickly and just in time to see Jackson slam into the opponent, the opponent didn't even stagger back, once Jackson had lost his balance and went toppling to the side the man stormed forward like a bull, knocking their team to the side, Thomas rushed up from the right and smacked his stick hard, he snatched the ball out the air and began to sprint up the pitch, dodging attacks from every side. out the corner of his eye he caught Isaac- his stick up and open. just as a particularly burly crow thundered for him he chucked it like a bullet to Isaac who caught it smoothly and shot it straight into the net. the crowd erupted into applause as Thomas gave him a hearty pat on the back.

"the bigger the are- the. bigger. they. are"

coach yelled from the sidelines. thomas shot him a thumbs up

he could feel scotts eyes on him but didn't look. this time Thomas didn't have enough time to steal the ball and had to watch as almost every member of his own team tried to steamroll into the crows, failing miserably.