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Union High had a long history of established dominance in men's football. They had won eighty percent of all the titles ever recorded in the county's history. No other team came close. That record alone was enough to make Annabeth's heart sink. The fact that they currently sat at the top of the table with a sixteen-point gap from the closest challenger added to her apprehension as the two teams readied themselves to walk out of the tunnel.
Annabeth's jaw almost dropped as the two teams emerged into the afternoon sun. The Union players were built like linebackers, muscles pushing out against the thin material of their white jerseys. Annabeth swore under her breath as her eyes widened. She was certain that they'd specially tailored their shirts tighter to make their biceps and shoulders stand out. The Goode players looked undersized lining up next to them on the pitch. Annabeth felt like they were filming a 'before and after' advertisement for a gym commercial, the Goode players being the unfit 'before' category and the Union players the jacked-up, heavily-built 'after' category.
That happy thought remained in Annabeth's mind as the game kicked off. Union collectively pushed forward the moment the whistle sounded. This was normal given Goode's recent shift toward deep-lying defending, but unlike in the other games, it didn't seem to open up any space for Goode to counter-attack in behind. Goode's long ball down the left was headed away by the Union right-back. Frank headed the ball back upfield where it was intercepted and brought down by Union's CDM, and from then on it was complete one-way traffic. Union moved the ball with frightening ease, attacking down one wing then the other. Nico and Ron were unable to advance up the pitch, pinned to the edge of their box by the Union fullbacks. Matthew and Mark blocked goal-bound efforts one after the other. David made three saves inside the first ten minutes. The pace of the game was fierce and furious and Annabeth shook her head in disbelief at what she was witnessing.
Goode simply had no answer to Union's overpowering dominance, conceding in the eleventh minute after the Union winger beat John to the byline and sent a cross in. Matthew's last-ditch slide diverted the ball against the post and back into the box. Frank was dispossessed as he tried to clear the danger and the Union centre-forward slammed the ball into the back of the net with such power that David barely got a touch on it, brushing his fingertips on the way in. Goode players looked at each other with hollow eyes, searching for a solution that might enable them to survive another eighty minutes of such an onslaught.
Goode kicked off and played the ball between their defenders for a few minutes before launching the ball ineffectively up the pitch. Ron chased the ball upfield, then chased it back down as Union recovered the ball with ease and shifted seamlessly into another long spell of possession. Frank headed a lofted ball away, surged forward in pursuit and was immediately bypassed as the ball zipped past him into Union's centre-forward. Matthew and Mark closed him down desperately and the centre-forward's attempted shot ricocheted off one of their outstretched legs and away. A Union player got to the ball a stride ahead of Malcolm and the one-way traffic resumed where it had left off.
Union's sustained possession was finally broken when Leo stabbed an incoming pass out of the Union CDM's feet, managing to poke it across to Frank before he was tackled. Frank sent the ball upfield to Nico, who was quickly surrounded by three enemy players. He tried to play Malcolm in and the ball was intercepted by Union's centre-back who immediately sent it across the field to the opposite flank. Union's right-back tried to get forward and Ron stood his ground, but behind him Luke had momentarily switched off and the ball went past both of them into the feet of Union's right winger who sent another cross into the six-yard box. Matthew stretched out his neck to head it away. Frank headed it on, straight into the feet of Union's CDM, who passed it away just as an onrushing Malcolm tried to close him down and skidded to a frustrated stop, having arrived a second too late. He turned around to follow the game down the pitch, slowing to a walk as Union players jogged forward all around him.
"Don't just stand there," Nico shouted to him as he ran past. "Get onto him!" He pointed to Union's CDM, who had advanced past Malcolm and now threatened to overwhelm Goode's midfield.
"Stay in shape," Annabeth called from the technical area. "Don't lose your focus."
Another Union attack came down the left wing. Luke battled the enemy winger, lost, spun around and chased him down. The winger gained a stride on him as they sprinted into the penalty box and struck a low shot into the bottom corner. David came crashing into the exact same spot a half-second later and sprang up immediately, slapping the turf in anger. With less than twenty minutes played they were already 2-0 down.
Goode players turned toward the touchline, seeking direction from their young coach. Annabeth stared helplessly back at them, trying to work saliva into her dry mouth. She didn't have a solution any more than they did. It was all she could do to stop herself from tearing her eyes away from the game.
"Stay deep," was all she could finally say. "Don't give them space behind to run into. Malcolm, you need to be on the thirty-yard line in front of the box. Don't let them get any shots away."
But that was exactly what happened a little over ten minutes later. A series of looping balls into the box ended with Frank heading it up the pitch. Malcolm lost the aerial duel thirty yards from goal. A Union midfielder got onto the ball completely unmarked and rocketed it inside the far post. Dakota was a full five metres away, nowhere near enough to have any chance of blocking the shot. 3-0.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Percy, watching from the stands, thumped his hand onto the railing. Beside him, Jason shook his head, cursing his injury under his breath.
"Leo!" Annabeth had seen the lively Union midfielder taking shots all game and decided she'd had enough of him. "Mark him!" She stabbed a finger at the offending midfielder, who was currently in the center of a 10-man Union group hug close to the corner flag.
Leo stared at the group of hulking players, then back at her. "Which one?"
"The one who just scored!" Annabeth bellowed.
"Got it, Coach."
The crowd of Goode supporters had mostly fallen silent, reduced to the occasional shout whenever a Goode player recovered the ball or scattered applause whenever somebody made a successful block or save. The players toiled on as the minutes ticked by. Nico and Ron were positioned so deep that they resembled full-backs more than wingers. The midfield trio of Leo, Dakota and Frank were chasing shadows against faster, fitter players, unable to even register a touch on the ball. Malcolm was the only Goode player ahead of the ball, but with Union dominating possession, he had nothing to work with. Annabeth initially urged him to remain high to facilitate the counter-attack, but as the game dragged on she stopped reminding him as he dropped further back in search of the ball, chasing it around for a few seconds at a time just to provide some relief to the midfielders behind him.
Against such pressure a fourth goal was inevitable and Goode conceded again in the 34th minute, the Union centre-forward lunging forward on the six-yard line in a blur of white to meet a cutback ahead of Matthew. His instinctive shot was blocked and spilled wide by David's sprawling dive. The powerful striker raced onto the loose ball and made no mistake at the second attempt, firing the ball into the back of the net past Mark on the goal-line. Annabeth let out a groan as the Union players gathered at the corner flag for a fourth group hug of the game.
Annabeth realised that any hope of gaining a result from this match was now gone. Without Percy and Jason, Goode lacked their usual counter-attacking threat and could not hold on to the ball. Union were just too overwhelming and the team were unable to cope with their dominance and intensity. She ground her teeth in frustration, unwilling to accept the way the game was progressing.
The gears began to turn in her head. Union played a high-octane attacking game, squeezing their three forwards into the centre to open up space for their fullbacks to deliver crosses and high balls from the wings. Their midfielders had been impressive on the ball thus far, but hadn't really been challenged in midfield since Goode's policy was to sit back and defend space. If Goode decided to match them man-for-man, how would they react?
Ideas continued to sprout as the game resumed. Annabeth turned her focus on Union, watching the way they moved and the decisions they made. She could not shake the suspicion that Goode were playing right into their hands by sitting so deep.
The half-time whistle put an end to the misery on the pitch. The two sets of players trudged down the tunnel toward the dressing rooms. The Union players' matching black socks caught her eye as they walked and her fingers fluttered involuntarily, almost causing her to drop her clipboard. They were stretched so tight that she could see the definition of their calves as they flexed and shifted. She turned away from them, feeling her face heat up.
The mood in the dressing room reminded Annabeth of a morgue as she stepped in. No one spoke or even moved. The silence was oppressive as she squeaky-wheeled the whiteboard to the front of the room, standing beside it as the players stared mournfully at her.
"I have a plan." Annabeth's voice rang into the silence.
Eyebrows were raised. Eleven heads looked up at her. Their combined attention felt like laser beams burning into Annabeth's body, but she steeled herself and forced herself on.
"It's not ideal. But it's all I've got."
She arranged the magnets to represent the tactics of the first half, Goode's deep-lying defence versus Union's high line.
"We've been doing nothing but defend since we kicked off. It's made things easy for Union. They've never really been tested. I say we take the game to them in the second half." She started to shift the magnets, moving Goode's up the pitch. "Three midfielders." She locked eyes with Frank, Leo and Dakota. "Versus three of theirs. You've already been man-marking them in the first half. This time, go in on them. Don't give them any time on the ball."
"The rest of you," she spoke as she moved the other magnets. "Same thing. Stick to them like rubber. Don't let them turn, don't let them run. Make them pass the ball away. Sooner or later, they'll make a mistake. When that happens, we'll attack."
"Won't that open up space for them?" John pointed out. "Those forwards will get between our lines. What then?"
"Tackle them," Annabeth replied. "Or else stand up to them. I don't like it either. But I don't see any other way. This game has already gone downhill. Either we keep defending or we take the fight to them."
"They'll score again if we open ourselves up," David spoke for the first time that afternoon, a deep baritone that drew all the attention in the room. "Even if we manage to pull everything off perfectly, they'll still score. They're that good."
Annabeth sensed that the morale of the team was still down. She hadn't managed to motivate them with her new direction. But then the game was more or less lost already. She wasn't trying to win it anymore. She just needed to convince them not to take it lying down.
"If that happens," she spoke carefully, weighing each word. "You need to keep pressing. Don't let it get to you. You have to trust each other. Trust me. Whatever happens on the pitch in the next forty-five minutes, I take responsibility for it. It's not about winning the game anymore. It's about hitting back, even if we concede more. Otherwise it'll be nothing but misery for the rest of the game, even worse than what we've already been through."
The players looked uncertain. Annabeth glanced at her watch. Just over three minutes until the end of the break.
"I'm going to go out to the touchline," she told them. "You have to decide what kind of team you want to show them. Whatever happens, I'll be right there with you until the final whistle." She headed out the door, hearing the conversation pick up behind her.
Annabeth wore an impassive mask as she paced up and down the touchline, waiting for the teams to emerge. She wasn't sure what impact she'd had in the dressing room. Part of her had no idea what she was doing. Another part of her was terrified that her speech would backfire and the team would fall apart. But the one thing she knew with certainty was that if they played the second half the way they'd played the first, they would only get more of what they'd already gotten.
The game kicked off to an indifferent atmosphere inside the Goode stadium. The home fans raised a smattering of applause as their team took to the field once more that quickly faded into the air of resignation inside the stadium.
To Annabeth's astonishment, she'd won the players over. Goode came out fighting, going man-for-man all over the pitch, flying into challenges one after another. Union were taken aback and forced into defending as Goode's front three entered Union's defensive third for the first time in the game. Union launched the ball long in an attempt to bypass the wave of blue shirts charging toward them. Matthew won the aerial duel and headed the ball upfield. Frank clashed with the Union CDM, neither of them managing to win the ball cleanly. Another Union midfielder headed the ball back into Goode's half and Mark surged out of position to intercept it a half-stride ahead of Union's right-winger. He sent a raking pass forward, seeking to send Malcolm away through the middle. Malcolm got onto the ball and was dispossessed by a Union centre-back. He battled on, trying to prevent the defender from getting the pass away. Dakota, Leo and Frank closed in from all sides, the four Goode players dispossessing the Union player like a Formula One pit crew dismantling a race car at a pit stop.
It was ridiculous. With all three of them up, there were zero Goode players in midfield, and six blue shirts racing into the final third. The whole Union team was in disarray, caught halfway between attack and defence. Half their team was on the wrong side of the ball. The other half were in tatters, backpedaling in the face of Goode's six-man attack. The second Union centre-back kept his composure and barged Leo off the ball as he neared Union's box. Dakota picked up the loose ball and played it into Malcolm. A roar went up from the crowd as Malcolm got within shooting range and let loose a shot that the keeper smothered with his body. The ball bounced out of the keeper's grasp and rolled upfield into Frank, who fired it long-range into the bar with the goal gaping and empty. This time it fell straight to an onrushing Nico who reacted in time to head it goalward at full sprint. The scrambling Union keeper threw up a fingertip save, managing to tip it narrowly over the bar. Thunderous applause rolled out from the stands as both sets of players gathered for the corner.
Annabeth was yelling instructions, but she couldn't even hear herself over the noise of the crowd. Malcolm, Nico and Ron positioned themselves right in front of the goal, surrounded by towering Union defenders. Everybody else spread out in a loose semicircle outside the the box, looking to recover the loose balls.
Frank swung the corner in. Union cleared it easily. The ball fell to Luke just outside the box and he connected with a thunderous half-volley that stuck itself in the forest of Union players just in front of their goal. Union sent it long toward their left-winger, who tried to bring it down just over the halfway line. John darted ahead of him to chest the bouncing ball down and played it back to David before the winger could fight for it. David played the ball to the opposite flank where Mark had sprinted back in support. The Union front three were bearing down on them and Mark opted to pass it sideways into Matthew, who sent it back to David. There were no options in front of him so David thumped it long.
Union's centre-back headed the ball away with ease. A Union midfielder brought it down onto his boot and then the midfield scramble resumed as Malcolm, Frank, Leo and Dakota chased their opponents around like fiends. Union were forced back, then tried to outplay their opponents with one-touch passing in the middle of the pitch. The ball pinballed from one player to another before a Union midfielder broke away from Leo and set off down the pitch. Mark had stepped up in anticipation and clattered into the midfielder as soon as he got free, sending the ball skidding away. Leo was first to it and attempted to play in Frank. The Union CDM intercepted the pass and Mark barged into him as well, knocking the ball away. Nico had drifted infield and got onto the loose ball, but immediately found himself surrounded by Union players. He dribbled left and right, feinted and hit a pass in the opposite direction toward Malcolm, who gained a few strides before being forced back.
The Union substitutes and their coach gaped at this ramshackle team that had apparently decided to throw every rule of football ever written out of the stadium. Annabeth gaped with them, wondering whether to laugh or to cry at the spectacle she had inadvertently wrought. Mark was chasing the ball around in midfield, leaving a gaping hole behind him that all three Union forwards were eyeing up like hyenas scenting their next meal. Nico had abandoned the right wing and come infield to close Union's centre-back down every time he got on the ball, leaving the Union left-back completely unmarked with the freedom of the wing behind him. The Goode midfielders were so tight on their opposite numbers that the whole team had pushed up into a kind of 3-1-6 lineup, leaving a ludicrous hole in midfield that nobody was guarding except Mark, a single blue shirt in an ocean of astroturf. Union were confounded by the madness before them and didn't know how to respond.
For all their aggression, an old problem soon surfaced; Goode didn't know what to do with the ball once they won it back. Union had retreated into a defensive block, barring the way toward their goal. Malcolm managed to get on the ball briefly and was crowded out as he tried to get a shot away. Union recovered the ball and immediately sent it into the left wing where the Union fullback and winger both waited with eager anticipation. John threw himself at the ball and scythed down the Union winger like a bowling pin, earning a throw-in as the ball somehow made contact with the winger's shins on the way out.
John decided not to wait for support and took the throw-in himself, exchanging a one-two with Nico who'd managed to run back in time to receive it. The young winger darted away from the trio of Union players trying to surround him. Frank of all people made an overlapping run down the touchline and the two of them exchanged another one-two that took Nico past a Union centre-back and into the penalty box with the goal gaping in front of him. He fired the ball into the back of the net without hesitation, sprinting away to celebrate as the crowd let out an epic roar.
"I don't believe it!" Annabeth said incredulously.
The Union coach didn't believe it either, waving his arms as he shouted at his players on the pitch. Union defenders were staring at each other in shock, unable to understand how they had just conceded a goal from out of nowhere.
The atmosphere in the stadium had been completely transformed. The Goode fans urged their players on, cheering every tackle and header. Goode continued their antics on the pitch, chasing the Union players about and preventing them from getting any kind of rhythm on the ball.
Union were starting to get to grips with their overenthusiastic opponents, dragging their opponents around with three and four-man combinations for short stints before circulating the ball to another part of the pitch when Goode players closed in. Nico saw what they were doing and closed Union's left-side centre-back down as he felt the momentum of the ball shift to his side of the pitch. The centre-back instinctively looked to his left-back for an outlet, but Nico had manoeuvred himself between the two of them, cutting off the passing lane. The centre-back, suddenly isolated, sent the ball back to his keeper.
Nico retreated, knowing his influence on the direction of the ball had come to an end. Malcolm had seen the back pass coming and ran hard at the Union keeper, trying to panic him into a mistake. The keeper saw no one available in front of him and went long instead.
A flicker of recognition registered in Annabeth's mind as she observed the short sequence that Nico had just triggered. A frown formed on her face as she tried to figure out what she was looking at. The way he'd positioned his run almost reminded her of…..
"Oh shit." Her grey eyes went wide as goalposts as the realisation hit her.
She'd been so focused on the 4-4-2 up until that point that she'd never considered any other tactic. But in this game Goode were not in a 4-4-2 and weren't playing anything like a 4-4-2.
"Ron!" She shouted. "Cut the passing lane between the centre-back and the right-back. Stay between them."
The left winger gave a thumbs up in acknowledgement.
Annabeth cupped her hands. "Malcolm! Stay tight on the CDM. Don't let him get the ball."
Malcolm had neither the breath nor the time to respond, but acknowledged her instruction by immediately dropping onto the CDM as he tried to take possession. The ball went back to Union's centre-back, who was immediately closed down by Ron and sent it to the goalkeeper who went long again after a few seconds of deliberation.
Inevitably this kind of crazyhouse football had only one possible outcome. Union found space in midfield as everybody pushed up. Their left winger drifted infield and the centre-back picked him out with a long pass as Nico bore down on him like a freight train. Mark was too far away to make the challenge and could only fall back as Union's front three raced toward the penalty box. The enemy winger slid the ball into the gaping space Mark had left behind as the centre-forward simultaneously raced into it. The centre-forward took a touch to steady himself before firing the ball into the back of the net. The crowd fell abruptly silent as he wheeled away in celebration. 5-1.
If Union had thought the goal would break Goode's morale, they couldn't have been more wrong. Goode continued to fly forward at every opportunity, seeming to relish every chance to break up their opponents' play. Chances came one after the other at either end as Goode continued to force themselves down their opponents' throat and Union exploited the gap in Goode's back line. The Union centre-forward twice came close to creating a carbon copy of his latest goal, being denied once by Matthew's last-ditch slide tackle and again when David knocked his shot wide.
At the third attempt he switched tactics, holding up the ball after receiving it in the penalty box instead of shooting like he'd done the previous two times. He held Matthew off and slid the ball toward the far post where the left winger came streaking in neck-and-neck with John. Both players went in hard and the ball crossed the line as their two bodies tumbled limb-over-limb into the post and tangled in the inside of the net. 6-1.
Both players were unable to continue and had to be substituted, with John earning himself yellow card for the sliding tackle even though the Union winger had blatantly been pulling him back in the lead-up to the goal. The crowd showed their displeasure with a sustained chorus of boos at the referee, but he'd been refereeing school matches for twenty years and didn't bat an eyelid even when somebody lobbed a hardcover textbook in his direction.
Annabeth sent in Chris for Nico, seeing the black-haired winger tire visibly with the frenetic pace of the game. Goode continued their all-out assault, refusing to give in to Union's superiority. Union at this point were content to sit back and absorb pressure, circulating the ball around with precision-cut passes. Goode started to ease off as well as fatigue took its toll, and duly conceded again when Union broke through their midfield pressure and carved them open on the break, the three forwards combining in a flowing move that ended with their right winger breaking into the box ahead of Luke and firing an effort straight down the middle. David had been about to make a dive in preparation for the shot, but stood his ground at the last minute and managed to parry the ball away to a cheer from the crowd. It ricocheted into their left winger, whose follow-up shot was cleared off the line by Matthew. A second cheer rang out across the grounds, followed by a collective sigh as the Union centre-forward headed the rebound in off the inside of the post. 7-1.
There was a little over five minutes left at that point. Both teams looked to have accepted the result and nobody stepped up to pressure Frank as Leo kicked off by rolling the ball to him. Leo backed away, anticipating a tidal wave of Union players. They still hung back and so Frank took a stride forward, shifted onto his left foot and unleashed a powerful dipping shot that flew the length of the half-field and almost caught the Union goalie off-guard. The crowd roared with delight as the keeper dived hard and managed to push the ball into the post, where it rebounded back into the penalty box. A Union centre-back rushed in to pick it up. He looked up to see Chris barrelling toward him. To his right, Ron was already halfway toward his partner centre-back. Neither fullback was available from this angle so he sent the ball forward to his CDM instead.
The sequence of events had been so sudden that the Union players didn't realise what was happening until it was too late. Union's CDM received the ball without realising that Malcolm was right on top of him.
The jaws of the trap closed on the Union back line. In a stunning display of counterpressing, Malcolm picked the ball from under the CDM's nose and raced forward. Both centre-backs closed him down in alarm, suddenly realising the danger. Too late. Malcolm took aim and slid the ball between them, aiming for the inside left post. The Union keeper dived full-stretch and managed to catch the ball with his fingertips, altering its direction just enough so that it struck the post instead of rolling into the net. All eyes collectively turned to follow the path of the ball just as Ron ran onto it and fired it into the back of the net. 7-2.
"I don't believe it!" Annabeth said for the second time in the game.
A moment of stunned silence filled the stadium as a thousand brains processed what had just happened, then the Goode fans erupted, jumping and cheering. The Union coach and his players looked confounded at how they'd conceded a goal not even half a minute from kick-off. Around the pitch, the Goode players were making fist pumps and applauding. Annabeth shook her head in amazement. What a day this was turning out to be.
The two teams kicked off again. Goode charged up the pitch and Union went long without following up, almost as if they couldn't be bothered to play anymore. Matthew won the header against the Union centre-forward. Goode midfielders came rushing in to protect the ball, although there were no Union players anywhere near them. They had all fallen back into their own half.
Union allowed Goode to pass the ball around their back line. Annabeth made her final substitution, sending in young midfielder Paul for Dakota, who was so tired that he'd literally stopped running. Frank dropped into the back line to get on the ball. Nobody picked him up as he turned with it and nudged it forward slightly, but Paul had found a little space in midfield and was gesturing for it.
Frank played the ball into his path and started to run. Paul drove forward, was crowded out and forced sideways. He passed the ball into John, who played it quickly back to Frank as the Union left-winger closed in on him.
Frank spotted Chris free on the right and sent a raking pass into him. Chris spun around and accelerated, darting around the Union left-back in a blur of blue and white. The left-back hauled him down and a roar of outrage went up from the crowd as the referee allowed play to continue. Chris scrambled to his feet and reached the ball just as it rolled into the penalty spot and an enemy centre-back came rushing in. The two players collided and Chris fell sprawling on the turf, shouting in anger. The referee blew his whistle at last, then reached into his pocket for his yellow card, issuing one each to the two Union players. Then he pointed to the penalty spot.
Penalty! Penalty to Goode High! Was there no end to the drama? This game just would not end quietly.
Malcolm stood over the ball and locked stares with the Union keeper. Both players eyed each other up. Malcolm took a short run-up and stopped just before reaching the ball, taking a skip and a hop before sending it straight down the middle. The Union keeper had been faked out and dived to the left. He didn't even see the ball as it rolled over the line. The referee blew for full-time.
Goode players gathered beside the goalpost for a last group hug. The Goode fans were jumping and cheering as if they'd just won the game. Union, the clear victors on this day, were a mixture of relief and bewilderment.
To Annabeth's surprise, she spotted the Union coach making a beeline for her. She steeled herself, remembering how her last interaction with a rival coach hadn't gone well.
"Are you the Goode coach?" He asked her, looking uncertain.
"I am," Annabeth confirmed.
"What happened to Coach Hedge?"
"He's on hospital leave," Annabeth told him. "I'm standing in."
The Union coach shook his head. "You must be what, fifteen? Sixteen?"
"Something like that," Annabeth replied.
"No one has ever scored three goals against one of my teams," the coach told her. "What on earth did you say to them inside that dressing room? I've never seen anything like that before."
Annabeth, stunned by the unexpected praise, struggled to respond. "I just…gave them a new perspective."
"New perspective?" The coach repeated incredulously. "Not even performance enhancers can achieve that kind of result. You ever thought of transferring to Union? We sure could use someone like you."
Annabeth shook her head, slightly amused. "Your team doesn't need me. They've practically won the title by now."
"There is always room for improvement," the Union coach countered. "And if you aren't working for me, I suspect I might be seeing you in the cup final in a few months."
"Sorry, but I'm a blue through and through." She said, giving a slight tug on her blue jersey for emphasis. "Always have been, always will be."
"I understand." The coach smiled. "I admire your loyalty. It's a rare thing nowadays. Everyone wants to support the big teams. No one roots for the underdog." He started to turn away. "Guess I'll see you around." He stopped, turned back and extended a hand. "I'm Coach Banner."
"Coach Annabeth," Annabeth said as they shook hands. "Annabeth Chase."
Coach Banner walked away to follow his team down the tunnel. Annabeth let out a slow breath, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face again now that his immense frame wasn't covering her in its shadow.
"Coach Banner?" She murmured. "His cousin must be Bruce."
The next chapter is a food one. I guarantee you'll be feeling hungry by the end of it. Cheers!