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warping-realities · 18 days ago

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2k Special - Coach Knows Best

So, guys, like I mentioned early this month, this year’s been way more complicated than I thought it would be. So much so I didn’t even realize I hit the 2000 follower mark! I had nothing planned for the occasion, but since I can’t let it slide, I whipped up this little story. It’s nothing groundbreaking or revolutionary, to be honest. It’s more of a throwback to my roots—the first stories that pulled me into this world, first as a reader and then as a writer.

My inspirations here are the amazing work of CallMecrazy and Aardvark. 'The Jocking' got me started in this game, and right after that, I dove into 'High School Development.' Also to this day, my all-time favorite story is 'Clifton Jocks: Nick' (though I gotta say, 'An Old Fashioned' is the best thing ever written in our niche).

Anyway, this is my little gift to celebrate with you all. Hope you dig it!"

Coach Knows Best: Finding Brotherhood

Brock woke up kinda groggy after a weird dream where he was on the school debate team. Like that would ever happen. After letting out a half-yawn, half-laugh at the ridiculousness of it, the football jock let out a groan as he rolled out of bed, his massive frame stretching and creaking. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and checked the clock – 5:30 AM. Time to get his butt in gear for another day of practice. After a cold shower, he admired himself, flexing his boulder-sized biceps and tree trunk thighs.

“Damn, Beef, you’re one fine piece of work,” he muttered to himself, before realizing that if he kept daydreaming, he’d end up running late, and the last thing he wanted was to piss off the coach. He lumbered down the stairs, still half-asleep, trying unsuccessfully not to make noise so he wouldn’t wake his mom. Not an easy feat with his massive size. As he stepped into the small but cozy kitchen, he popped open the fridge, chugging a gallon of whole milk and scarfing down a couple of protein bars and lasagna leftovers, shoveling it all in like a cow chewing its cud. Gotta keep those gains coming, bro, he thought as he let out a loud belch.

After put a sleveeles shirt and a pair of compression shorts he hopped into his late dad's beat-up pickup truck and cranked up the radio, bobbing his head to the rap music as he headed to the local high school, where he played offensive guard for the Oakwood Titans. He couldn't wait to hit the field and ball out with his teammates. Oakwood, was the best, the coaches actually cared about their players and the athletes were treated with respect.

Pulling into the crowded high school parking lot, Brock spotted his bro Trey, another offensive lineman, and they fist-bumped as Brock approached.

"Yo, Beef, you ready to crush some skulls today, bro?" Trey said, his deep voice rumbling.

"You know it, man. Gonna put fear in those punks," Brock replied with a grin, pounding his chest.

The two hulking teens lumbered into the locker room, the floor shaking with each step. Brock yanked open his locker, the cheap metal creaking, and started suiting up. He pulled on his compression tights, the fabric straining to contain his muscular legs. Next came the padded girdle, the protective cups cradling his package just right. He smirked, knowing he was packing some serious heat down there. He put on his shoulder pads, the familiar weight settling on him, and finally, his jersey – number 72, offensive guard.

Brock and Trey headed out to the practice field, joining the rest of the team for warm-up drills. Coach Steele, a former NFL player with a jaw like granite, barked out commands, and the players moved in sync, grunting and clapping in rhythm. Brock loved this part, the camaraderie and teamwork. It felt like a well-oiled machine, everyone doing their part.

Soon, they split into position groups for more intense drills. Brock lined up against the defensive tackles, his eyes narrowing as he focused. The whistle blew, and he exploded off the line, driving his feet and using his massive frame to shove the defender back. Again and again, Brock dominated the one-on-one battles, his competitive nature fueling him.

"Atta boy, Beef! That's how we do it!" Coach Steele yelled, slapping Brock on the back, making the young man puff out his chest, soaking in the praise. This was his element, where he thrived.

After a grueling practice, the team gathered for Coach's speech. Brock listened intently, absorbing every word.

"Men, you're showing real promise out there. But I know we can be even better. This season, we're going all the way to state. But it's gonna take sacrifice, dedication, and leaving it all on the field. No half-assing it, you hear me? You're dismissed, boys, and behave yourselves. I don't want to hear any complaints about you from the other teachers. And woe to anyone caught messing with the other kids, no matter how weak they are!" Coach Steele's eyes scanned the players, landing on Brock. "Brock, stay here. I need a favor.” Said the older man. And Brock waited curiously while his teammates went to the locker room and the muscular giant moved towards him.

“ Brock, You’re one of our leaders; I expect big things from you, and now's your chance to prove it." Said the coach.

"Yes, sir!" Brock responded, his voice booming. He was ready to do whatever it took to please Coach Steele, he was his inspiration, and football was his life.

"Kid, there's a boy in your class, a new transfer, who's been asking questions he shouldn't. I need you to reach out to him. Gain his trust."

"Yes, coach, who are you talking about?"

"Aidan Trent. I understand he's your partner in science class."

"Aw, coach, that guy's lame, a total nerd."

"Beef, are you gonna go against my request?"

"No, sir, I'll do as you say!"

"Great, who knows, you might find you have something in common?" the coach replied with a mysterious smile.

Brock doubted that, but this was his chance to prove himself, to show the coach what he was made of.

Alone in the locker room, Brock stripped off his sweat-soaked gear, relishing the burn in his muscles. He grabbed a towel and headed to the showers, the hot water pounding on his aching body. He couldn't help but admire himself – bulging biceps, chiseled abs, thick tree trunk legs. This was the body of a champion, a warrior. He flexed, grinning at the way his muscles rippled.

After cleaning up, he pulled on a fresh pair of tight boxer briefs, the fabric clinging to his package, and slid into a pair of faded Levi's. He topped it off with an Oakwood Titans blue t-shirt, the school colors bringing out the intensity in his eyes.

After strutting in front of the cheerleaders, Brock headed to his biology class, where he was paired up with his target: the scrawny kid named Aidan. Even though he had a mission, he couldn't help but feel annoyed, wanting to be around his fellow jocks instead of some scrawny nerd. But the coach's words were law, and he would follow them to the end.

"Dude, you got a problem or something?" Aidan asked, sensing Brock's irritation.

"Nah, man. Just ready to get this over with so I can get back to football," Brock grumbled.

"Football, huh? You must be one of those meathead jocks I keep hearing about," Aidan said, rolling his eyes.

Brock felt his blood boil. "You got a problem with football, shrimp?"

"Relax, dude. I'm just saying, there's more to life than throwing a ball around," Aidan replied, backing down.

Brock clenched his fists, wanting nothing more than to pound this scrawny little twerp into the ground. But he knew that would only get him in trouble, and he couldn't afford to miss any games. So, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on the project. He didn't know how to deal with a weakling like that, but if this was Steele's will, Brock would make an effort.

"Man, what do you know about football?"

"That it's a bunch of guys smashing each other over a ball, just to get concussions and die young." Hearing that sent another wave of irritation through the young giant. But he kept his cool.

"Football is way more than that. It's discipline, teamwork, trust, it's brotherhood. Things I bet you don't have with your buddies in the chess club."

"I'm not in the chess club!"

"I bet you're in the choir or some other girly thing..."

"I'm part of the school newspaper!"

"Oh, right, something way more masculine, living off gossip."

"I bet anything with words escapes your ogre brain," the skinny kid shot back just as the bell rang.

At lunchtime, Brock made his way to the cafeteria, his tray piled high with enough food to feed a whole family. He plopped down at a table, right in the middle of the room, greeted by his fellow linemen.

"Yo, Brock, heard you pancaked Tanner in practice. Dude's still picking his teeth up off the field," one of the guys said, laughing.

"Yeah, man. Gotta let these boys know who's boss," Brock replied, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.

The conversation turned to the upcoming game against their rivals, the Westside Warriors. Brock listened intently, already visualizing himself blowing open massive holes for the running backs. Just then, a scrawny figure approached with a tray in hand: Aidan. This was his time to shine.

Brock spotted Aidan sitting alone at a table in the cafeteria and decided to join him.

"Sup, Aidan, you mind if I park my big ol' butt right here? I think things got a bit rough between us, and I wanted to make it right."

"Uh, yeah, sure, go for it."

"So, newspaper? What's the deal, man? What've you been up to?"

"Not much, just... some stuff..."

Making a huge effort to seem interested, Brock continued. "What stuff? What you write for that rag?"

"Since you insist, I'm working on a story about the funding differences between the sports teams."

"Funding differences? What are you talking about?"

"Well, it seems like the football team gets way more money than all the other teams combined. I'm trying to figure out why that is."

"Hold up, you saying we get more cash? So what? We need that to be the best."

"I'm not saying you don't deserve it; I just think it's unfair that the other teams don't get the same level of support."

"Unfair? You don't know jack about football, man. This team brings in way more cash and fame for this school than any other sport."

"Look, I just want to understand how the funding distribution works. I'm not trying to attack anyone."

"You're trying to expose us, aren't you? Thinkin' we're doing something shady!"

At that moment, Coach Steele approached, noticing the heated discussion.

"Hey, hey, what's going on here?"

"This guy's trying to write a story saying we get more money than we should!"

"Is that so? And why do you think that, son?"

"I just... want to understand better how the funding gets divvied up. I'm not trying to accuse anyone."

"Well, I know things may seem unfair from the outside, but the football team brings in a whole lot more for this school than any other sport. That means more cash, more exposure, more opportunities. But it's not like we're stealing it from anyone. It's all within the rules."

"See? I told you we need that to be the best."

"Easy there, Brock. I get your frustration, but let's keep things civil here. Aidan, if you really want to understand how this works, why don't you come to one of our practices with Brock here to see how it all works, and I can explain it all to you calmly."

"Uh, well... okay, I guess."

"Great. Now, let's all go back to eating in peace, alright?"

Brock and Aidan nodded, still a bit tense, under the watchful eye of Coach Steele.

"Beef with me," the coach said with a stern face, and Brock followed him. "A little more subtlety would have been better, kid, but now I know what the kid was after. And to think I thought he might suspect something..."

"Coach?"

"Anyway, kid, good job, but it's not over yet. You heard what I said; tomorrow morning before practice, I want you to go to Trent's house and bring the kid with you. It's our duty to guide him to a proper understanding of the importance of football, right?"

After school, Brock headed home. Entering the simple house, he exchanged a few words with his mom before flopping down on the couch, flipping through channels until he found a replay of a college football game. Engrossed, he barely noticed the time pass until his mom, a night shift nurse at the town hospital, kissed him on the head and told him that she had left his dinner ready. He scarfed down the massive meal, grateful that his mom knew he needed to keep fueling his body to get bigger and stronger. It was tough for a single mom like her to manage the house and a son with his appetite and needs. But one day, he would repay that. He was going to college for football and become a pro, giving her and the coach all the pride in the world. He was going to be a star, a hero to his team and his community. Brock was going to make a name for himself, and no one was going to stand in his way. And if that meant putting up with the nerd Aidan Trent, so be it.

......

The next morning, Brock woke up with a renewed sense of purpose. He had a mission, and he was determined to make the most of it. After finishing his breakfast, he grabbed his gear and hopped into his truck, mentally preparing for the day ahead. As he drove towards Aidan’s house, he felt a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Pulling up to Aidan’s home, Brock took a deep breath. The house looked small and unassuming, a stark contrast to the towering figure of the young man standing outside. He knocked on the door, and moments later, Aidan's father, an older version of the kid, appeared, surprise etched on his face.

"Huh... what brings you here?" asked the lanky man, adjusting his glasses nervously.

"Hello, sir, nice to meet you. I'm Brock Bennett, Aidan's classmate. I came to pick him up so we can go to school together."

"You're a friend of my son's?" the man asked, both astonished and pleased at the prospect. As if the idea of a friendship between the behemoth in front of him and his son was impossible. Something Brock would agree with without hesitation if it weren't for the need to follow the coach's orders.

"Yeah, sure!" he replied with his best boy next door smile. "Could you call him? We're running late for football practice."

"Football practice?"

"Yeah, I said I'd take Aidan with me to help him with a report for the school newspaper, to help him understand the need for the funding we receive and all that..."

"Ahhh... now it makes sense! Aidan, come here, your friend is waiting!" the lanky man shouted for his son.

Aidan appeared at the door, a bit hesitant, but upon seeing Brock, forced a smile in front of his dad, who seemed confused at the prospect of his son making friends with one of the jocks. "Hey, Brock. What are you doing here?"

"Coach Steele sent me to pick you up, man. You were supposed to tag along to practice, remember? And we're already late. If it weren't for having to grab you, I'd already be crushing in the field by now. So, let's go!" Brock replied, gesturing for Aidan to hop into the truck. Once Aidan settled into the passenger seat, they started driving toward school. The initial silence in the car was palpable, with Aidan staring out the window and Brock focused on the road.

"So, Aidan, what do you have in mind for this article? Got any bright ideas?" Brock asked, trying not to sound annoyed like the day before.

"I'm thinking about something on the importance of funding for sports, you know? How it can impact team performance and player morale," Aidan replied, nervously.

"Cool, but don't you think we've already proven we deserve what we got? Football’s a big deal, and we bring fame to the school; we've been state champs more times than any other team," Brock said, trying to make the other guy understand.

"Yeah, but it's also important that other teams get the same support. It's not fair that just one sport gets all the attention and resources," Aidan argued, the fiery passion in his words.

Brock shook his head, a bit frustrated. "Look, I get your point, but you know how things roll. Football is what puts the school on the map. And who doesn't wanna be a star?"

Aidan sighed, looking at his own reflection in the window. "Not everyone has that dream, Brock. Some people just wanna feel part of something..."

Brock glanced at Aidan, surprised. "And what do you think the team is all about, man? What’s it really about?"

"Not everyone has a team to lean on, Brock!"

"Don't you have friends in your newspaper club?"

"I... I've just never been good at making friends... My mom passed away when I was little, and my dad's an accountant who works a lot. He's cool, but he doesn't have much time for me. So, I end up being alone most of the time," Aidan explained, the sadness in his words almost palpable.

Brock felt something unexpected: a pang of empathy. "Man, I'm really sorry to hear that. I had no idea."

"Yeah, it's not easy, but life goes on, I guess. I just focus on school and the stuff I like to do. But you and your friends seem to have it all, you know? Always hanging out and having a blast," Aidan replied, and Brock couldn't help but notice the envy in the other kid's eyes. He was used to that, with others wishing to be in his shoes but not willing to make the sacrifices needed. But this time was different; Aidan wanted things that Brock himself valued the most.

"Yeah, we've got a solid team," Brock said, trying to find the right words. "But it also has its challenges. My dad's not around. He passed away last year. And my mom... well, she works hard to support me. I guess deep down, we all have our battles."

Aidan turned his head, surprised. "You don't have a parent either? I... I didn't know."

"Yeah, it's part of life, right? We gotta deal with it and move on," Brock replied, his voice a bit softer now. "But it's not like I'm alone. I got my friends, and the team is like family."

"That's cool," Aidan said, a shy smile creeping onto his face. "I've always wanted to be part of something like that." Not knowing how to respond, Brock fell silent as he maneuvered the truck into the school parking lot.

Brock and Aidan got out of the truck and headed for the locker room, where the smell of sweat was mixed with the sound of laughter and shouts from the players. As soon as they entered, they were greeted by the sight of a messy place, with uniforms strewn across the floor and equipment scattered everywhere. The atmosphere was lively, full of energy and camaraderie.

“Hey, Beef! Finally decided to show up, were you giving that kid a blast?” Trey shouted, laughing and making obscene gestures, causing the others to burst into laughter and Aidan to shrink back.

Brock smiled but quickly turned his attention to the approaching coach, his presence demanding respect. Coach Steele had a serious look, but there was a spark of understanding in his eyes.

"Brock!" the coach said in a firm voice. "I'm gonna let this tardiness slide, but only because you brought Aidan. Now, go get changed and put on your uniform, we've got a lot of work to do!"

"Yes, sir!" Brock responded, feeling a surge of motivation at Steele's words. He quickly headed to his locker, grabbing his uniform and starting to get ready for practice. Meanwhile, the coach turned to Aidan.

"Aidan, come with me to my office. I want to talk to you a bit before we start," Coach Steele said, gesturing for the young man to follow him.

Aidan hesitated for a moment, glancing at Brock, who nodded encouragingly. It was strange how just a few words had made the other boy look at him with a completely different attitude. Neither of them noticed it, but Steele, an old fox, knew at that moment that things were heading in the desired direction. He then led the smaller boy along while Brock quickly changed.

Brock felt adrenaline coursing through his veins. This was his moment, the time to show all his potential, any thoughts about Aidan completely forgotten.

As he joined his fellow offensive linemen, Brock exchanged a few back slaps and jokes with his teammates. But he knew that as soon as the whistle blew, the fun would be over. It was time to work.

The warm-up began with the classic push-ups and squats, led by assistant coach Morrison. Brock followed the commands with precision and determination, feeling his muscles warm up and get ready for the challenge.

Next came the line drills. Brock positioned himself at his station, facing the training equipment that represented the defender he would have to face. At the whistle's signal, Brock exploded forward, using his immense strength to push the obstacle back. He maintained the correct position, with squared shoulders, feet firmly planted on the ground, and legs bent. He repeated the movement several times, feeling his body heat up and his determination grow with each thrust.

Then, with Coach Steele returning, the team was divided into smaller groups to practice different game schemes. Brock watched the instructions closely, memorizing the positions and movements he was supposed to execute. They rehearsed some passing and running plays, with Brock blocking defenders with precision and aggression.

During the breaks, Brock drank water and chatted with his teammates. They exchanged tips, encouraged each other, and reminded themselves of the importance of the season. The Titans had a tradition of winning, and in Brock senior year, they would not disappoint.

When practice ended, Brock felt his body tired, but his mind was more focused than ever. He knew that every drop of sweat, every push, every effort was worth it. Brock was part of a team of champions, and he wouldn't let anything or anyone stand in his way. As he laughed and exchanged bravado with Trey and the others, he let all his arrogance and ferocity show.

And then he came face to face with a mesmerized Aidan.

“Hey man, did you watch the whole practice?”

“Yeah! You guys… you are… awesome!” Aidan replied, surprising Brock, but not as much as his next sentence. “I… I want to be just like you… bro!” Said the smaller boy with unfocused eyes and drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

What the hell was that? Something wasn't right.

“Coach! Coach Steele, sir!” Brock called out in alarm. “Something's not right with Aidan. He's…” the gigantic young man began to say as the coach approached.

"He's exactly as he should be, my boy!"

"But coach…”

“No arguments, Beef. You’re going to have to trust me.”

“Yes, coach.” Brock replied as he made his way to the locker room accompanied by the stupefied Aidan.

Brock watched Aidan with a mix of confusion and concern as the young man walked beside him, with a glazed expression and a silly smile on his face. Something was definitely not right, and Coach Steele's request seemed increasingly strange.

Upon reaching the locker room, the characteristic noise and smell filled Brock's senses. He greeted his teammates with back slaps and a few jokes, but his attention was focused on his new "friend."

Aidan seemed completely oblivious to the chaos around him, his eyes fixed on Brock with an expression of admiration and devotion. Brock couldn't understand what was happening, but he knew he had to keep an eye on him.

Brock began to undress, taking off his sweaty uniform and heading for the showers. Aidan followed him like a puppy until Brock made him sit on one of the benches where he remained still, but without taking his eyes off the big guy. Brock felt uncomfortable with that gaze but tried to ignore it, focusing on washing the sweat and dirt from practice.

After the shower, Brock returned to his locker, putting on a pair of jeans and a school t-shirt that outlined every detail of his powerful muscles.

"Hey, Brock, who's your little buddy?" Trey asked, nudging Brock.

"Oh, it's Aidan. Coach asked me to keep an eye on him," Brock replied, trying to sound casual.

"Seriously? That's weird. Well, if the old man told you to, you better take good care of your pet, huh?" Trey laughed and walked away, leaving a confused Brock behind. He approached Aidan, who continued to watch him with that disturbing look.

"Hey, Aidan, you okay, man?" Brock asked, trying to understand what was going on.

"Yeah, Brock, I'm great! You're so strong and amazing," Aidan replied, his voice full of admiration.

Brock felt uncomfortable with that reaction, but before he could respond, Coach Steele approached.

"Brock, Aidan, come with me. I have some things to discuss with you," the coach said with a serious look.

Brock and Aidan followed him to the coach's office, where Steele made them sit.

"So, Aidan, what did you think of the practice?" Steele asked, with an enigmatic smile.

"It was amazing, coach! The guys are so strong and skilled, football is awesome, and Brock too! I want to be just like him!" Aidan replied, his eyes shining.

Steele nodded, satisfied with the answer.

"Great, great. I see you've understood the importance of football for this school. And that's exactly why I want you to join us."

Brock widened his eyes, surprised by the proposal.

"But, coach, he doesn't play football. He's a nerd from the school newspaper," Brock protested.

"Exactly, Brock. And that's why I want him to join us. He needs to understand the true value of football, and there's no better way than being on the field, side by side with the players. Don’t take your eyes off Trent. Understood?”

Brock still wasn't convinced, but he knew better than to question the coach's orders.

"Alright, coach. I'll take care of him," Brock said, reluctantly.

"Great. Now, go get ready and enjoy the rest of the day. Don't take your eyes off Aidan, Brock. I want him at your table at lunchtime and tomorrow morning at the usual time, I want you two here, ready to train, understood?" Steele said, dismissing them.

Brock and Aidan left the office, and Brock couldn't stop thinking about what was happening. He couldn't understand why the coach wanted Aidan to join the team, but he knew he had to follow the orders. After all, football was his life, and he wasn't going to risk it all for a nerd, he justified to himself.

The morning went relatively normal if it weren't for the new adoring shadow Brock had over him in the form of Aidan. Although as the hours passed, the other boy seemed more normal. If Brock had paid more attention, he would have realized that the behavior he was taking as normal was expected for jocks like him and not nerds like Aidan. He only noticed the extent of that change when it came time for lunch when he found himself forced to share the table with Aidan and the football team boys.

During lunch, Brock found Aidan eagerly waiting for him at the football players' table. The skinny and awkward boy looked out of place among the muscular giants, but his posture and facial expression had changed drastically.

"Hey, Brock! Saved me a seat, bro?" Aidan said, in a deeper, more confident voice than Brock was used to hearing.

"Uh, yeah, sure..." Brock replied, still a little confused by the sudden change in behavior.

Aidan sat next to Brock, his tray overflowing with food, just like the other players. He began devouring the food with the same voracity as his teammates.

"Wow, Aidan, you're eating like a horse!" Trey commented, laughing.

"Yeah, man, gotta keep these muscles fed, right?" Aidan replied, patting his abdomen.

Brock widened his eyes, realizing that the boy was not only imitating the players' manner of speaking but was also bragging about his "muscles," something that definitely did not match his physical appearance. Or was it? Looking closely at the boy, he no longer seemed so skinny. He hadn't obviously reached the muscle mass of the team boys. But compared to most of the nerds at school, he was light years ahead.

"Seriously, Aidan, are you okay?" Brock asked quietly, so only the other boy could hear.

"Of course I'm okay, Brock! Never felt better. This football thing is awesome, man. I don't know how I lived without it until now," Aidan replied, laughing deeply.

Brock remained silent, watching Aidan interact with the other players. He joined in, made jokes about flatulence, and even started telling stories about his conquests with girls, which left Brock speechless.

"Hey, Aidan, I heard you're hitting on Brittany. Didn't know you had game, dude!" Connor the quarterback said, giving him a friendly nudge. Since when did those two know each other?

"Oh, you know, I've got my mojo. That blonde can't resist my charms," Aidan replied, winking.

Brock couldn't believe what he was seeing. That wasn't the same Aidan he knew. The skinny and shy boy had been replaced by a caricature version of a football player, complete with bravado, arrogance, and even romantic interests—everything Brock himself was. So why did it seem to bother him so much?

While the other guys laughed and continued the conversation, Brock remained silent, analyzing the situation. Something was very wrong, and he had a feeling Coach Steele was behind it all.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, Brock turned to Aidan.

"Hey, Aidan, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked, in a serious tone.

"Sure, Brock, what's up?" Aidan replied, with a confident smile.

Brock pulled him aside, away from the other players.

"Man, what's happening to you? You're not like this, what did the coach do to you?"

Aidan looked confused for a moment, but then his face lit up with a smile.

"Happening to me? Nothing, Brock! I finally realized how amazing football is. And all thanks to you and Coach Steele. Now I want to be part of it, be one of you, brothers!"

Brock frowned, unconvinced by the explanation.

"Aidan, I know you're not like this. You're a nerd from the school newspaper, remember?”

“Nah, man, just because I write for the paper doesn't make me a nerd. If things don't work out with football, I'm gonna be the next Adam Schefter, we even share the same name! Me, a nerd? You're a jokester, bro! I gotta go, see you tomorrow morning. Get ready 'cause tomorrow I'm gonna show you my skills.” Said the not-so-small boy as he walked down the hall while a stunned Brock stayed behind.

Still dazed, Brock headed to his next class, but his mind was far from there. He couldn't stop thinking about what had happened at lunch and Aidan's strange words. That sudden transformation left him uneasy.

During class, Brock tried discreetly to contact Coach Steele, but his messages went unanswered. He needed to understand what was going on, but the man who should have the answers seemed to be avoiding him.

At the end of the day, Brock ran to his car, determined to find out what was behind that bizarre situation. As soon as he got home, he threw himself on the living room couch, opening his laptop and starting to research.

His searches led him to stories about the "Stepford Wives," a fiction novel that talked about a community where women were replaced by perfect, obedient, and submissive replicas. Brock couldn't believe the similarity between that plot and what was happening with Aidan.

Could Coach Steele be involved in something similar? Was he turning the boys at school into idealized versions of football players? The mere thought made Brock feel sick. He didn't want to believe that his mentor, the one who inspired him so much, could be involved in something so dark.

Confused and worried, Brock eventually fell asleep on the couch, his mind restless with theories and speculations. He knew he needed to act, but he wasn't sure how to proceed. After all, Steele was his idol, and he didn't want to believe that the man who helped him become the player he was today could be involved in something so disturbing.

.............

The next day, after a restless night's sleep, Brock felt like a wreck. However, he still decided to train. Upon arriving at the locker room, he was approached by Trey and the other players.

"Hey, Brock, what's up, man? Where's Adam? Coach Steele is gonna be super pissed when he finds out you didn’t bring him.”

Brock felt a knot form in his stomach. What if Steele finds out Brock suspected something was wrong?

"I... I don't know, Trey. Something very strange is happening with Aidan, and the coach seems to be involved," Brock replied, hesitantly.

"Man, are you serious? The coach? No way, he's the man, our mentor. You're tripping, Brock, and it's Adam, man! I thought you were the guy's best friend!” Trey said, laughing.

Brock wanted to insist, he wanted to convince his friend to believe him, but before he could say anything, Steele himself entered the locker room, his demeanor serious.

"Brock, my boy, where's Adam?” the coach asked, his voice firm.

"I... I don't know, coach. He hasn't shown up yet," Brock replied, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the presence of the man who until a day ago had been his idol.

“If I recall correctly, you were supposed to have picked him up at home and brought him to practice? You disappointed me!” Responded the coach, making a feeling of shame arise in Brock's chest, after all, despite his suspicions, Steele was still the great example for Brock.

"Relax, coach. I took the opportunity run a little to warm up,” said a deep voice. Turning towards it, Brock was taken by a huge shock. It was Aidan, but it wasn't. Before him stood a man who had familiar features in a gigantic muscular body. As if someone had fused Aidan with a muscular man.

"Brock, my boy, you should have picked up Adam as I asked," Steele said, with a serious tone. "Apologize to your teammate."

Brock swallowed hard, feeling ashamed. "Sorry, Aid… Adam. I... I forget you were coming."

"It's all good, Brock. I get it," Adam replied, with a confident smile. "The important thing is that I'm here now, ready to show what I can do."

Steele nodded, satisfied. "Great, great. Now go get changed, we have important practice ahead."

Brock and Adam headed to their lockers, starting to gear up with their game uniforms. Brock grabbed his number 72 jersey, the padded pants, and the protectors. Putting on that uniform always made him feel part of something bigger, a team of brothers.

While changing, Brock watched Adam out of the corner of his eye. The boy seemed so comfortable, as if that environment was his natural habitat. He put on the uniform with ease, adjusting the protectors precisely.

"Hey, Brock, you ready?" Adam called, already fully equipped.

"Ah, yeah, I'm coming," Brock replied, finishing getting dressed.

Together, they left the locker room towards the field, where the rest of the team was already warming up. Brock could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, the desire to show all his potential returning with full force.

As soon as they arrived, Trey and the other players greeted Adam enthusiastically.

"Hey, Adam, ready to show your worth?" Trey said, giving him a friendly pat on the back.

"You know it, Trey. I was born ready," Adam replied, with a confident smile.

Brock watched the interaction, still a bit confused. How had Adam integrated so quickly into the team? Could Steele really have something to do with that transformation?

Before he could think more about it, the coach's whistle blew, signaling the start of the warm-up. Brock positioned himself, ready to give it his all. He couldn't let his concerns distract him. After all, the football field was his domain, and he wasn't going to disappoint his team brothers.

Throughout the practice, Brock watched Adam's performance closely. The boy seemed to have become a completely different person, with agile movement, strength, and determination. He stood out among the others, and Brock couldn't understand how that was possible.

During the first break, Brock tried to talk to Adam, trying to understand better what had happened. But the boy seemed absorbed in his own world, focused only on improving his performance.

And truth is Brock was impressed with Adam's performance on the field. The two seemed to communicate without words, anticipating each other's moves with impressive synchronicity.

When the coach yelled a play, Brock and Adam positioned themselves instantly, knowing exactly what to do. They blocked the defenders with precision, opening holes for the runners to advance. The offensive line worked like a well-oiled machine, with each piece fitting perfectly.

Adam's confidence was contagious. He moved with agility and strength, overcoming his opponents with ease. Brock felt motivated to give his best, wanting to be on par with him.

In one of the breaks, Brock couldn't contain his excitement:

"Damn, Adam, you're flying out there, man! Never seen anyone integrate into the team so fast."

Adam smiled, giving Brock a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, you know, I've always be a good player. Just needed a chance. And Coach Steele gave me that opportunity."

Brock nodded, impressed. He couldn't understand how it was possible, but he couldn't deny that Adam's performance was exceptional.

"Hey, you and I are a scary duo, huh?" Brock said, with a smile.

"You bet, bro!" Adam replied, excited. "Together, no one can stand against us."

Brock felt more confident than ever. Having Adam by his side made him feel invincible. They were a force to be reckoned with, an unstoppable duo.

As practice went on, Brock found himself focusing more and more on the game, setting aside his worries. The synergy with Adam helped him forget the doubts about Coach Steele and the strange transformation of the kid.

When the final whistle blew, marking the end of practice, Brock felt exhausted but extremely satisfied. They had given it their all, and the result was evident.

As they headed to the locker room, Adam looked at Brock with a confident smile.

"Hey, man, you really are an amazing guy. I'm glad to be on the same team as you."

"Thanks, Adam. I'm happy to be part of this too," Brock replied, with the same smile, momentarily forgetting who he was talking to. However, those concerns came rushing back as soon as they entered the locker room. Seeing Adam strip down made Brock question his sanity for the thousandth time that day. It was impossible—Adam, Aidan! His name was Aidan! And It was impossible for him to have that body. Before him was a man with broad shoulders, a defined chest, and arms full of muscles. The tanned skin only enhanced the imposing nature of his physique.

"Holy crap, Adam! You're a beast, man!" exclaimed Trey, giving the new player a pat on the abs.

"I know, I know," Adam replied, laughing heartily. "No wonder the girls drool over me."

"I only see Brock drooling over there, huh?" Connor nudged Brock with his elbow, making the others laugh.

"Ah, shut up, man!" Brock tried to hide his embarrassment, averting his gaze.

"Ah, leave Brock alone, he's just jealous of my bod," Adam said, doing a flex, making his muscles pop.

The other players applauded and whistled, impressed with the display.

"Damn, Adam, you think you're CBUM!" Trey commented, laughing.

"It's not that, it's you guys looking like a bunch of nobodies next to me," Adam retorted with a confident smile, while hugging Brock completely naked.

"Hey, knock it off, man!" Brock replied, lightly pushing his teammate.

"Chill, Beef, don't get jealous, bro. You're a prime specimen too," Adam said, giving a friendly elbow to Brock.

The other players laughed at the joke, and soon the conversation turned into a typical teenage banter, with jokes and bravado about who was the strongest, fastest, or most attractive.

After showering, Brock and the others got dressed, donning their school uniforms. Adam flaunted his new body with pride, intentionally wearing tight shirts and pants to highlight his muscles.

"Hey, Adam, you're more stuffed than a Thanksgiving turkey," Trey commented, laughing.

"Hey, man, gotta keep this bod on display. After all, the chicks love a hot athlete," Adam replied, winking.

Brock watched the scene, still unable to believe what he was seeing. That wasn't the Aidan he knew. That was a football player in every essence, with the same arrogance and confidence that Brock and the others displayed.

While the other boys bragged and joked, Brock remained silent, his mind racing. As they left the locker room, Brock noticed that Adam seemed to have won the admiration of all his new teammates. They laughed and joked with him, treating him as one of their own. Brock, on the other hand, felt increasingly distant, his doubts and worries isolating him from the rest of the group.

As they walked, Brock couldn't help but watch Adam closely. The man seemed so confident and popular, greeting all the classmates they passed by. It was almost as if he had been part of that group his whole life.

When they reached the classroom, Brock noticed Adam's behavior. He sat next to Brock, but instead of grabbing his class materials, he started taking selfies, showing off his muscles in different poses.

"Man, have you seen how many likes I got on this pic?" Adam said, showing his phone to Brock.

"Uh... no, I haven't," Brock replied, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"Oh, you gotta see! It's blowing up, everyone's commenting on how ripped I am," Adam continued, not taking his eyes off the phone screen.

Brock watched the scene, unsure of what to say. The skinny, studious boy had been replaced by someone who seemed to care only about his appearance and popularity.

When the teacher finally entered the room, Brock tried to focus on the lesson, but his attention kept straying to Adam. The kid wouldn't stop fiddling with his phone, taking more and more photos and updating his social media.

"Hey, Brock, you think this pose looks better?" Adam whispered, leaning closer to Brock.

"Uh... I guess so," Brock replied, unable to hide his discomfort.

"Cool! I'll post this one later," Adam said, smiling with satisfaction.

Brock shook his head, still unable to believe what was happening. He glanced sideways at the teacher, who seemed to completely ignore Adam's behavior.

Did nobody else notice the drastic change in the kid? Or was everyone simply accepting that transformation as something normal?

During lunch, the table was full of laughter and lively conversations. The Oakwood Titans football players gathered around a table, with trays full of food, ready to discuss strategies and share dreams.

"So, what's your favorite NFL team, Adam?" Connor asked, while biting into a burger.

"The Chiefs, no doubt! Mahomes is a beast! I'd love to be part of his offensive line," Adam replied, his face lighting up as he talked about the quarterback he admired so much.

"Oh, you and Brock with that obsession over the guy. But he'll never be a Brady. There's only one GOAT. And I'm gonna be the one to take that spot from him! I want to be the quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys and take them back to the top! Imagine me playing for the packed crowd at AT&T Stadium! Connor Walsh making The America’s Team Great Again!” Connor exclaimed, gesturing enthusiastically while the others booed and threw food at him.

Adam, who had cheerfully thrown an apple core at Connor, nodded, laughing before continuing. "It'd be awesome to play alongside Brock on the Chiefs' offensive line, man! We could dominate any defense!"

"For sure, Adam! And you could protect Mahomes while I make the plays! It'd be a perfect combo," Brock said, feeling increasingly comfortable with the new Aidan/Adam.

"By the way, wouldn't it be great if we could all be in the NFL someday?" Trey commented, a hopefull smile on his face. "Imagine us four, playing together on a real team!"

Brock started laughing, imagining the scene. "That'd be epic! What could go wrong? A team of linemen ready to crush anyone who crosses our path!"

"Yeah, and we'd still have to fight for that chance, right? It's not easy getting there," Adam added, his eyes shining with determination.

"But who says we can't do it? We have the skill and the strength!" Connor said, pounding the table to emphasize his point.

As the conversation flowed, Brock let himself be carried away by the excitement and camaraderie. He was genuinely having fun, laughing and sharing stories with Adam and the others. For a moment, the doubts he had about Aidan's change disappeared, overshadowed by the energy around him.

"I remember the last time we played against the Warriors," Brock began, laughing. "We crushed them! It was a real show of strength."

"Yeah! And that touchdown you made? It was insane! I almost fell off the bleachers with excitement!" Adam exclaimed, laughing along with the others.

"That's right! And I still have a video of it! Brittany sent it to me. Too bad you weren't playing with us yet. But now I'm gonna post it in our group for everyone to see!" Trey said, grabbing his phone.

“Hey man, not cool!”

As the group continued to chat, Brock realized he was genuinely enjoying himself. He liked the new Aidan—Adam—and the way he fit in with the team. It was a relief to see that even with the strange transformation, the boy seemed happy and confident. But deep down, Brock knew something wasn't right. Aidan's change wasn’t natural, but at that moment, surrounded by his friends and immersed in conversations about football, he decided to set aside his worries.

"So, who's ready for the next game? Let's show them who's boss!" Brock shouted, raising his diet soda cup in a toast.

"I'm in! Let's crush them!" Adam replied, raising his cup as well.

The table filled with cheers and laughter, and Brock felt that, for a brief moment, everything was as it should be.

Brock and Adam left the cafeteria table, laughing and chatting animatedly about the upcoming practices. As they walked down the hallway, Adam suddenly stopped in front of a large mirror, adjusting his hair with his hand and admiring his reflection.

"Hey, man, could you cut it out with the vanity? You're not a runway model," Brock joked, giving Adam a pat on the back.

"Ah, shut up, Beef! I just want to look presentable. A football player has to take care of himself, right?" Adam replied, winking at the mirror while running his hand through his hair again.

"Take care of yourself? You seem more worried about that than the next game!" Brock laughed, amused by the scene.

"Relax, I just want to make sure I'm ready to shine on the field. And you should worry more about your image too!" Adam retorted, pulling Brock in front of the mirror.

Brock hesitated, but Adam had already grabbed his phone and positioned himself for a selfie. "Come on, smile! One, two, three!"

Brock made an exaggerated face, and Adam enjoyed the image. "Perfect! Now I'm gonna post this!" He quickly added a filter and before Brock realized, he was typing the caption.

"Rivals to brothers!" Adam said, with a satisfied smile as he pressed the button to post.

Brock was confused. "Rivals to brothers? Why'd you put that?"

Adam looked at Brock, surprised. "You're kidding, right? We’ve been playing as rivals our whole lives! And now we're on the same team! That's a big deal, man!"

Those words hit Brock like an arrow. He had forgotten for a moment that this bro wasn't real. Now, that post, the idea of being "brothers" on the team made his concern return.

"Wait a minute, Adam. You really don't remember anything, don't find anything... strange?” Brock said, trying to find the right words.

Adam frowned. "Strange? No, man! This is just what happens when you finally find your place. Football is my passion! And you should feel that way too, right? Don't tell me you're having an identity crisis!"

Brock didn't know what to say. Adam's transformation was so drastic that he couldn't ignore it. "No, it's not that... I just... just…” Brock mumbled. He knew something was wrong and couldn't let it pass. "I need to talk to Coach Steele," he decided, determination growing within him.

"Talk to the coach? About what?" Adam asked, his eyebrows raising.

"About you. About this strange transformation. It doesn't seem right, Adam," Brock responded, feeling more firm in his decision.

"Transformation? What the hell is that? You're out of your mind, Beef! The coach is amazing! He only wants the best for the team. Don't get carried away by silly thoughts!" Adam exclaimed, a tone of concern beginning to emerge in his voice.

Brock looked at Adam, and for a moment, he saw the boy he knew before—the nerd who cared about school and writing. But now, the image he saw was of a vain football player, completely different from the Aidan he knew.

"I need to go," Brock said, determined.

"Go where? Brock? Brock???" Adam asked worriedly, but Brock was already walking away, ignoring his friend.

As he walked towards the coach's office, Brock felt adrenaline rushing through his veins. He was about to uncover a mystery that could be affecting not just Adam, but the entire team. He needed to know the truth. No matter what happened.

Brock knocked on the coach's office door. "Coach Steele, I need to talk to you!" He announced, his voice firm.

"Come in, Brock," replied the coach, his expression serious but welcoming.

As soon as Brock entered, he closed the door behind him, determined to find out what was going on. He faced Steele, who looked at him with a mix of expectation and curiosity.

"Coach, I... I don't understand what's happening with Adam. He's not the same, and you seem to be behind it!" Brock said, frustration evident in his voice.

"Oh, Brock... you really got worried about that?" Steele responded, his voice calm and controlled. "Don't you see that this is for his good? For the good of all of us?"

"For his good? He's becoming a version of himself that I don't recognize! This isn't right!" Brock exclaimed, feeling anger growing within him.

“This isn't right, coach. He's not being himself!"

"You don't understand, Brock. Football is a game that requires strength, courage, and confidence. And sometimes, that means leaving behind who we were before. Adam was a threat and now is an essential part of our team," Steele replied, his voice firm.

"But at what cost? What are you doing with him? This isn't natural!" Brock insisted, feeling the conversation was intensifying. “And why me? Why use me to do this to him?”

"Because I needed a catalyst and you were perfect for that, boy. Understand, you're dealing with a new world, Brock. A world where the weak have no place. And I'm doing nothing but what's necessary to ensure our success. You should focus on what matters: winning," Steele replied, his expression unwavering.

Brock fell silent, the coach's words echoing in his mind. He was about to lose everything he had fought for—his friendship, his identity. And now, what was more important? Victory or the truth?

“Let me help you understand better, son. Changes are necessary for us to be the best version of ourselves, Brock. You've been through it yourself," Steele said, his gaze penetrating.

“I... what? No, that's not true, I would know…”

“Just like Adam knows? You want to take the risk? I can reverse what happened to him, but by doing so, I'll do the same to you. So, boy, what's your choice? I leave it in your hands. What do you say?”

“I… I prefer to stay as I am.” the boy replied.

"I thought so. Now, so they don't say I'm a monster, relax, boy, I assure you everything will be fine."

….

Brock woke up the next morning, the sun's rays peeking through his bedroom curtains. He stretched his muscular arms and legs, feeling refreshed after a good night's sleep. As he got out of bed, he couldn't help but admire his physique in the mirror - the chiseled abs, the bulging biceps, the powerful thighs.

"Alright, time to get this day started," Brock said to himself, heading to the bathroom to start his morning routine. He brushed his teeth, splashed some water on his face, and then made his way downstairs, the smell of breakfast wafting through the air.

In the kitchen, Brock's mom was busy cooking up a hearty meal - scrambled eggs, bacon, and fluffy pancakes.

"Morning, sweetie," she greeted him with a warm smile. "I made your favorite. Gotta keep those muscles fueled, right?"

"Thanks, Mom," Brock replied, sitting down at the kitchen table and digging in. He savored every bite, knowing he needed the calories and nutrients to power him through another intense football practice.

After breakfast, Brock headed outside to his truck, ready to make the drive to school. As he pulled out of the driveway, he felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. Football was his passion, his purpose. He couldn't wait to get on the field and prove himself once again.

Brock pulled up to Adam's house, ready to give him a ride to school. As he approached the front door, it swung open, and a tall, muscular man stepped out. Brock immediately recognized him as Adam's father, although he looked vastly different from the lanky, bespectacled man he had met just a few days earlier. not that he had any memory of that encounter.

"Brock! There's my boy!" the man exclaimed, his deep voice booming. He strode over to Brock and enveloped him in a bear hug, slapping him firmly on the back.

"Mr. Trent, good to see you," Brock replied, a bit taken aback by the man's enthusiastic greeting.

"Please, call me Hank. We're practically family now, with you and Adam being such good friends and all," Hank said, flashing a wide grin.

"Uh, yeah, sure, Hank. Is Adam ready to go?" Brock asked, glancing past the muscular man.

"Adam! Your ride's here!" Hank called out, and moments later, Adam emerged from the house, a confident grin on his face.

"Brock, my man!" Adam exclaimed, jogging over and exchanging a fist bump with Brock. "Ready to crush it at practice?"

"You know it, bro," Brock replied, still a bit bewildered by Adam’s father.

Hank chuckled and placed a heavy hand on Brock's shoulder. "I've been hearing all about your football exploits, Brock. Sounds like you boys are gonna have one heck of a season, eh?"

"Yeah, we're really looking forward to it," Brock said, nodding.

"That's what I like to hear!" Hank boomed. "You know, I used to play a little ball back in the day. Maybe I can give you boys some pointers, huh?"

Brock's eyes widened slightly. "You played football, Hank?"

"Sure did, son. Defensive end, back in my glory days. Though these days, I'm more focused on keeping the town safe as a firefighter," Hank said, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Wow, that's really cool," Brock replied, genuinely impressed.

"Yeah, Dad's a total badass," Adam chimed in, grinning.

" I'll remind you that you said that the next time you call me out and call me cringe, dude! Yeah, I miss my glory days, but one upside of quitting gaming was I could dive into amateur bodybuilding and finally focus in becoming shredded as hell. Now you and Adam don’t have to stress about that just yet, you need to be the biggest and badest player on the field or my fellow defensive line brothers will eat you alive. But from what I see around the house, and looking to you son looks like you guys are totally in the loop about it. Anyway, you should probably get going, Boys. Don't want to be late for practice."

"Right, of course. It was great seeing you, Hank," Brock said, shaking the man's hand.

"Likewise, Brock. Take care of my boy, you hear?" Hank said, winking.

Brock nodded and headed towards his truck, Adam falling into step beside him. As they climbed in, Brock couldn't help but feel a bit more at ease. Hank's warm, fatherly presence remember him of something he hadn't received since his father's death, and he hadn't realized how much he missed it.

"So, your dad's a firefighter, huh?" Brock asked, glancing at Adam.

"Yeah, man, he's the best. Always been my hero, I want to be exactly like him." Adam replied, his eyes shining with admiration.

"That's cool. I almost can see the resemblance if we take off some grease from you."Brock said, chuckling.

Adam laughed heartily. "Hey, Aren't you listening to him? We gotta keep up our physique, you know? Gotta be ready to tackle anything, on and off the field."

Brock nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. As they drove towards the school, the two chatted about the upcoming game and their plans for the season. Brock couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with Adam, a feeling he hadn't expected to have for a former rival.

As they pulled into the school parking lot, he could already feel the energy and excitement in the air. The sounds of laughter and the sight of his teammates gearing up for practice filled him with a renewed sense of purpose.

"Alright, Beef, let's do this!" Adam exclaimed, jumping out of the truck and heading towards the locker room, Brock following close behind.

In the locker room, they joined the other players, all pumped and ready for another day of intense training.

"Yo, Beef, did you see that pic I posted yesterday? It's blowing up on Insta!" Adam said, giving Brock a friendly nudge.

"Yeah, man, it's blowing up for real! You're looking like a pro athlete already," Brock replied, laughing.

The other players gathered around, all with big smiles on their faces.

"Hey, Brock, Adam, ready to smash the Westside guys on Friday?" Trey said, high-fiving both of them.

"You know it, Trey, we're gonna make them beg to leave the field!" Adam replied confidently.

"Damn right, bro! Let's show them who's boss!" Connor chimed in, pumped up.

Brock watched the interaction, feeling like part of something bigger. These guys weren't just his teammates; they were his brothers. He belonged to this group, this family.

"You guys ready to kick those punks' asses?" Brock said, joining in the excitement with his friends.

"Of course, Beef! Let's crush them!" Adam responded, pounding his chest.

The players continued to get ready, cracking jokes and hyping each other up. Brock felt more confident than ever. This team was his second family, and he would do anything to protect it and lead it to the top.

When Coach Steele entered the locker room, everyone fell silent, knowing it was time to get down to business.

"Great work this week, boys. You're showing you've got what it takes to go far this season," Steele said, his gaze sweeping over the players. "I want to see that same effort out on the field today. I expect nothing less than your best. Now, go warm up!"

The players charged onto the field, adrenaline pumping through their veins. Brock and Adam lined up side by side, ready to give it their all.

The practice began with the usual warm-up drills, and Brock lost himself in the rhythm, focused solely on executing each movement to perfection. Nothing else mattered but becoming the best player he could be.

When it came time for the line drills, Brock and Adam took charge of opening gaps for the runners. They worked in sync, predicting each other's movements and crushing any defender who dared to get in their way.

Brock felt the sweat pouring down his body, but he ignored the fatigue. All that mattered was victory. He needed to prove to himself and the team that he was worthy of being part of this champion squad.

During breaks, Brock and Adam chatted animatedly about the plays, exchanging ideas, complimenting each other, and joking around.

When practice ended, Brock felt exhausted but satisfied. They had given it their all, and he knew they were more prepared than ever to face their rivals.

As they headed back to the locker room, Brock looked at Adam, who seemed radiant.

"Man, you're flying today! We're getting more and more in sync," Brock said, giving Adam a friendly nudge.

"That's right, Beef! Together, no one can stop us," Adam replied, with a confident smile.

When they reached the locker room, the other players were already hurrying to shed their sweaty uniforms. Brock and Adam joined them, laughing and sharing stories about practice.

"Did you guys see that play Beef made? That was awesome!" Trey exclaimed, giving Brock a slap on the back.

"Ah, man, it was nothing. You guys were killing it out there too," Brock replied, feeling proud.

"No way, Beef! You're the man, dude!" Connor joined in, giving Brock a friendly punch on the arm.

At that moment, Coach Steele gathered the players in the locker room.

"Boys, you did great out there today. I'm proud of you," Steele said, his penetrating gaze sweeping over the athletes. "But we can't stop there. This season is gonna be the toughest you've faced yet."

The players listened in silence, knowing the coach was about to deliver one of his motivational speeches.

"You need to be willing to sacrifice everything—your comforts, your personal interests, even your social lives—for this team to reach the top. There's no room for ego, no room for laziness. You're a family now, and family comes first."

The players nodded, their faces filled with fierce determination.

"So, I want to see you give your blood on that field. I want to see you surpass yourselves every day, every game. I want to see you become champions!"

"Yes, sir!" the athletes responded in unison, their shouts echoing through the locker room.

After the coach's inspiring speech, the players began to strip down and head to the showers. Brock and Adam walked side by side, chatting animatedly, completely naked, without the slightest bit of shame. They were brothers.

As they approached the showers, the sounds of banter and laughter filled the air. The players, now naked, examined one another, comparing muscles and sizes.

"Hey, Trey, your leg looks like it's getting thicker. You been doing extra squats, huh?" Connor said, giving his friend a friendly elbow.

"Oh, yeah? Well, check this out!" Trey replied, flexing his bicep.

Soon, all the players were laughing and teasing each other, showing off their muscular bodies.

Brock watched the scene, feeling increasingly integrated into that group. He knew these were not just his teammates but his brothers. They would fight together, sweat together, and, if necessary, die together in pursuit of victory.

While showering, Brock felt the tension in his muscles dissipate. He knew that with this team by his side, nothing could stop them. They were invincible.

After the shower, the players left the locker room in a group, chatting and laughing animatedly. They walked through the hallways, drawing the attention of other students with their imposing presence.

As they walked, other players joined the group, high-fiving and greeting each other enthusiastically.

"Hey, QB's getting stronger, huh?" Lance a running back said, admiring the quarterback's muscles.

"You got it, man! I need to show these guys who's boss around here," Connor replied, smiling.

The group grew as they moved through the hallways, attracting curious and admiring glances from other students.

"Hey, did you see those cheerleaders over there?" Connor said, pointing to a group of girls.

"Of course I did, man! Brittany's dying for me to ask her to the homecoming dance," Adam replied, with a mischievous smile.

"And I'm tagging along with her friend, Brie," Brock added, laughing and being joined by his friends, their deep and powerful voices echoing through the hallway. The cheerleaders watched them with longing looks, some waving and smiling at the athletes.

"Hey, Beef, you're on fire, huh?" Trey said, giving Brock a nudge.

"You know it, man. We're the best," Brock replied, laughing and heading to class.

At the end of the day, Brock and Adam were surprised by a request to meet with Coach Steele and made their way to his office, curious about what he wanted to discuss.

Upon entering, Steele greeted them with a serious demeanor, but his face soon softened into a smile.

"Brock, Adam, I'm glad you came. Please, have a seat."

The two athletes obeyed, settling into the chairs in front of the coach's desk.

"Well, boys, I called you here because I want to know how you're feeling about all this. I know things have changed a lot since Adam joined the team, and I want to make sure you're comfortable with the situation."

Brock exchanged a look with Adam before responding.

"Look, Coach, I trust you and your decisions. I know you always do what's best for the team. And Adam's arrival has only made our squad stronger."

"Great, so nothing's bothering you, kid?"

"Other than the fact that we haven't crushed the Warriors yet, there's nothing wrong, Coach!"

Adam nodded, laughing and adding:

"That's right, Coach. I know my coming here was unexpected, and Beef and I had a rivalry, but that's in the past. I feel completely integrated into the team now. All the guys welcomed me with open arms, especially Beef, and I couldn't be happier to be part of this family."

Steele observed the two athletes attentively, satisfied with their responses.

"I'm glad to hear that, boys. You're key pieces of this team, and I want to make sure you're fully engaged and committed to our goal. Now, Adam, about your article. I understand it comes from a good place, but perhaps it's best not to stir up controversy."

"Article? What article?" Brock asked, confused.

"Mr. Trent here is also a member of the school newspaper, Beef. And he wrote an extensive piece explaining why the football team needs more funding. Which is admirable, Adam, but raises questions that are best left alone. Which I trust you will do."

"Yes, Coach, your word is law," Adam replied, while his friend looked at him with a mocking gaze.

"Hmm, newspaper? Didn't know you were such a nerd, Trent."

"I'll show you who's a fucking nerd, Beef!"

"Boys, enough. Now I suggest you go home and rest because tomorrow is the big day."

After the conversation with Coach Steele, Brock and Adam left the school and headed to Brock's house in the old pickup truck.

During the drive, the two guys sang rap songs loudly, each defending their favorite artist.

"Man, there's no way around it, Eminem is the greatest of all time!" Brock exclaimed, pounding the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

"Ah, come on, Beef! Kendrick Lamar is way cooler than Eminem!" Adam retorted, giving his friend a friendly punch on the arm.

"Are you crazy, man? Eminem is a legend, the guy's a lyrical genius!" Brock countered, turning up the radio volume.

The debate over who was the better rapper continued throughout the drive until it eventually shifted to their favorite topic.

"So, Beef, who do you think is the GOAT of football? Tom Brady or Mahomes?" Adam asked, curious.

Brock thought for a moment before answering.

"Ah, man, that's easy. Tom Brady, no doubt. The guy's a legend, got an insane resume. That dude is the standard of excellence in football."

"Seriously? I think Mahomes is getting close to surpassing him. The guy's a phenomenon, plays like a beast!" Adam said, excited.

"No way, man. Brady's unbeatable. How many Super Bowls has Mahomes won? Three? Brady's got like, seven!" Brock retorted, laughing.

"Yeah, but Mahomes is younger, he'll get there. And the way he plays is way more exciting than Brady's!" Adam insisted.

"Excitement is good, but titles are what matter, brother. And Brady's got more than double Mahomes'. He's the GOAT, no question!" Brock concluded, giving Adam a slap on the shoulder.

The two continued debating the merits of the two quarterbacks until they arrived at Brock's house. Even with different opinions, it was clear that their friendship had grown stronger.

As soon as they entered, Brock tossed his backpack into a corner and went straight to the fridge, grabbing some drinks and snacks for them to share.

"Alright, Beef, now that we're here, tell me, are you really cool with me joining the team?" Adam asked, looking at his friend seriously.

Brock thought for a moment before answering.

"Man, I'll be honest. At first, I was a bit skeptical, after all, we were rivals and all. But now, after all the dedication you've shown, I can't imagine the team without you. You've proven to be a brother to us, and I know that together, no one will be able to stop us."

Adam smiled, giving Brock a friendly punch on the shoulder.

"Thanks, man. I don't see myself outside this family either. Let's show those Westside guys who's boss!"

The two guys clinked their zero-sugar soda cans, toasting to their brotherhood and the victory that awaited them.

While Brock and Adam chatted in the living room, Brock's mom walked out of her room, all dressed up and elegant. She was carrying a bracelet and struggling to fasten it around her wrist.

"Sweetie, can you help me with this?" she asked, approaching Brock.

Brock looked at his mom, surprised by her appearance.

"Sure, Mom. You're all dressed up today. Something special going on?" he asked, fastening the bracelet on her delicate wrist.

"Well, actually, I swapped my shift at work tonight. I have an appointment," she replied, with a slight smile on her lips.

Brock raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

"An appointment? What kind of appointment?"

Brock's mom let out a soft laugh.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm an adult woman and single. I'm allowed to have my own appointments, don't you think?" she said, giving Brock a kiss on the cheek.

At that moment, the doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation.

"That must be my date," Brock's mom said, quickly fixing her hair before going to answer the door.

Brock stood there, watching his mom walk away, with an expression of surprise and confusion on his face. So, she had a date? His mom, the woman who always seemed dedicated only to him and her work, had a personal life?

He exchanged a quick glance with Adam, who also seemed intrigued by the situation.

"Hey, Beef, is your mom going on a date?" Adam whispered, with a mischievous smile on his face.

Brock shrugged, still trying to process everything.

"Looks like it, man. I didn't even know she was seeing someone."

The two guys stayed silent, listening to Brock's mom's footsteps and the voice of a man in the house's entrance. Brock felt a twinge of curiosity, but also some concern. After all, his mom was everything to him. He let out a long sigh.

"Man, this was unexpected," he commented, still processing it all.

Adam chuckled, giving his friend a pat on the back.

"I can't even imagine my dad going on a date with someone, dude."

The two guys exchanged nervous smiles as they listened to the conversation at the entrance of the house. Brock couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and apprehension upon hearing the man's voice accompanying his mom.

When Carol returned to the living room, she was accompanied by a tall, muscular man, whom Brock immediately recognized as Hank, Adam's dad. The shock was evident on Brock and Adam's faces, and an awkward silence fell over the room.

"Dad?" Adam exclaimed, with a look of surprise.

"Adam… Brock?" Hank responded, equally surprised. "I had no idea you were Carol's son!"

"Wait, Mom, you're going out with Adam's dad?" Brock asked, trying to process the situation.

Carol and Hank exchanged glances before starting to laugh, breaking the tension in the air.

"Well, it seems we have a little coincidence here," Carol said, smiling. "Hank and I met when he brought a patient to the hospital. We talked a bit about our kids, but we never imagined… this.”

"This is kinda... strange, but funny too," Adam commented, scratching his neck.

"Yeah, I guess life has those surprises," Hank added, still laughing. "But don't worry, guys. It's just a casual date."

Carol nodded, looking at the two young men. "We're just getting to know each other better. Who knows what could happen, right?"

Brock and Adam exchanged glances again, still trying to get used to the idea.

"Well, be good boys and don't make a mess while we're out," Carol said, giving Brock a kiss on the cheek before leaving with Hank.

As soon as the door closed, Brock and Adam exchanged nervous laughs.

"That was totally unexpected," Brock commented, still laughing.

"Totally! But, hey, if things work out, we could end up being real brothers," Adam said, winking at Brock.

"Yeah, that would be pretty crazy, but also pretty cool," Brock agreed, feeling a strange sense of happiness at the thought. Having a badass stepdad like Hank and a brother like Adam would make his life even more perfect than it already was, eliminating one of the few worries he had, which was his mom's loneliness. And if there was one thing Beef hated, it was worrying and overthinking. That's what he had Coach for, and things were better that way.

#male tf #mind change #reality change #mental transformation #jockification #musclegrowth #my story

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