Vi Presento a Athea (Introducing Athea)

VI

Patrick dropped his daughter off at school for the game night ("Huh, baseball, ay? Well, that was unexpected."), and quickly left back home, leaving Athea with a "call me when you're done" warning in a vivacious environment: the area around the stadium was overflowing with excitedly talkative people – students, teachers, parents, visitors – as the anticipation for the game was at its max. Making her way through the crowd with difficulty, Athea was distracted by shining lights and a loud, megaphone-raised voice coming from her right.

"Get your preps for the game here! Banger deals!! Don't miss out the chance to cheer for your school! We've got combos!" In a small booth, with around three people in it, two female cheerleaders and a male one (he was at the megaphone) were waving foam fingers, air horns, signs and bandanas. Athea cautiously made her way towards the booth, both hands tight around her purse strap. Once he spotted her, the guy's eyes immediately sparkled. "Hey there, fellow cheerer!-" He shouted across the megaphone, frightening himself and quickly putting it away. "Oops, sorry 'bout that!" The bulky man apologized to an ear-clasping Athea, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "This is the booth for the home school, if you're looking for supplies from our visitor school, they're on the other side of that... uhm... swarm of people." He pointed at the crowd that tried to squeeze their way into the stadium through one of the main entrances.

"I-I'm with the home school..." Athea answered, almost in a whisper, making the boy have to lean in to hear her. He immediately sounded one of the air horns.

"We've got ourselves a Hawky, ladies and gentlemen!" He shouted and the cheerleaders clapped and... well, cheered. "What can I get for you? Oh, oh, oh! Look!" He immediately said excitedly before she could answer. "We've got this combo here: you get a foam finger, a flag and a bandana, with 15% off! And I'll thrown in an extra 5% because you look cute." He winked at her and Athea didn't know how to react.

"Isaac, please, stop flirting with everyone that stops by or we'll never make enough money for nationals." A brunette girl Athea hadn't noticed before, sitting in the back of the tent filing her nails, scolded the boy without even lifting her gaze.

"Never mind her!" He waved his hand around and drove his attention back to Athea. "So, US$8,50. It's a take it or leave it."

And so, Athea walked out of there, flag in one hand, foam finger in the other, a bandana across her forehead – she had told Isaac she could put it on later by herself but the boy insisted in assisting her – and a dumbfounded smile across her face. Was this what they called "school spirit"? Athea wasn't sure, but her tummy felt tingly and there was this weird excitement inside her heart. She had no idea she felt this way about sports. Nevertheless, she diverged her attention from the brightly lit stadium over to the bleachers, looking for a place to sit that was as far away enough from the crowd and as close enough to the field so she could see the game without any problems.

She finally sat down behind a few bars on one of the last row of seats, comfortable with the place she had picked and a little confused over why such a good spot was so empty with people. She found out why soon enough, though. That was the couples' make-out spot, which forced poor Athea to flee once more in her never-ending search for a seat.

Eventually, she gave up trying to stay in her comfort zone, and dared herself to sit among the crowd. Sure, it wasn't exactly in the middle of it (she had found a bench that had one of its tips completely empty up until the middle, where a group of students were talking excitedly), but it was good enough. So, she firmly glued her pretty little butt down at the furthest spot possible, making sure to avoid any unnecessary noises and thus fulfilling her mission.

As the game went by, Athea, completely lost as to what was going on, was still entirely amazed. She had no clue what was happening on the field or on the score board but if the crowd cheered, she cheered; if it booed, she booed along. Halfway through, victory was practically certain for her school's Hawks and people around her were cheerfully indulging in hotdogs. She felt her body complaining in hunger as she hoped to the skies that she would find something to eat in that processed-meat madness.

"Peanuts and popcorn!! Peanuts and popcorn!!" She heard an old man shout as he climbed the bleachers' stairs. "Both for five, each for three" Athea's heart skipped a beat.

"Over here, kind sir!" She called him out and he hopped over the rest of the stairs in a sluggish way. As he approached her and she was about to reach her bag for her wallet, she noticed his name card: Giuseppe. "Ah, Giuseppe! Parli italiano?" She excitedly reached out to him.

"Pardon miss, but I only sell food in this 'ere 'tadium. Never been out o' this town since I came 'ere as a little boy. Know no Italians 'round 'ere." He answered in a heavy southern accent.

"Oh." She felt the blood rush through her face in embarrassment. "That's okay. Thank you, Giuseppe. Here you go." She handed him a five-dollar bill and he gave her a bag of peanuts and a cup of popcorn before continuing his journey to the rest of the seats.

Athea was happily enjoying her last few bits of popcorn when a voice echoed through the place and the crowd started a thrilled cheer.

"Hoooooooomee ruuuunn from the one and only, number 47, Jason O'Connell, ladies and gentlemen, and he's going for it!" The announcer's voice made the stadium vibrate in screams of glory and incentive to Jason, who now ran through all the odd little white shapes displayed in a very weird way across the field.

The people on the other end of Athea's bench were starting to slowly lift from their seats in anticipation as Jason seemingly began to finish his lap. At last, he threw himself foot-first over the sand field, touching the last white dot with the tip of his toe and for a split second the world seemed to go entirely silent – only to be followed by the ecstatic screaming that came along from the entire stadium. The students by Athea's side had jumped off of their seats and were hopping around and hugging each other as Jason apparently marked the winning point. 

Soon enough, the whole place began to empty out as people left celebrating another successful victory for the Hawks. Athea decided to wait a while for the commotion to calm down before stepping out of her safe spot. She texted her dad and waited until there were only the cheerleaders, the players, and a few avid fans left, to set off on her way. She was calmly keeping the bag of peanuts (that she ended up not being able to eat) inside her purse, when she was surprised by a tight arm grip around her waist and the sensation of losing the feeling of the ground beneath her feet. Trails of light quickly flashed in front of her eyes and her hair moved swiftly through the wind as she was spun around. In panic, she wasn't even able to vocalize any sound at all – which, she thought later, was probably something she should work on considering the dangers of a big city. Someone screamed in her ear before she could feel gravity working on her again. She didn't even need to turn around because Isaac quickly grabbed her by both hands and started spinning around with her.

"Hey, cutie!! We won! We won! We won!" He gave her a last spin of her toes before following the rest of the cheer squad, leaving a very confused – and very dizzy – Athea behind.

Jason wasn't too pleased, however. He had left a winning game, the team by his side cheering him on and congratulating him, only to be witness of her – his homecoming date – being held in the arms of another. His mind weirdly stopped. His ears fell silent to the overly excited players around him, and he gripped his cap tightly as his gaze followed the cheerleader after he had gotten his taste over his girl. Isaac. He knew the bastard too damn well to-

Wait.

Did he just say "his" girl?

He blinked rapidly, coming back to reality. He watched the foreigner walk away one last time, entirely lost, being surprised by Cyrus jumping over his back and messing up his hair, claiming "victory pizza" was on him. His gaze was still stuck in that same spot when the team roared, swooping him out of his trance. And so, as it was the routine for game nights, they took the van to Cyrus's house.