Seeing Shane Gray ✓

five | hurt

My phone buzzes and I look down at it to see Racheal's text.

"They're waiting in the bleachers for us," I tell Marla, putting the phone in my hoodie pocket and standing up. My head feels heavy and I stand still for a moment to get it to stop spinning.

"Let's get snacks," Marla says, winding her arms through mine. With her on my side, I'm more confident I won't lose my balance and break my nose.

"Riley's going to kill us when she sees we didn't wear the outfits to match the team colors." I laugh.

Sure enough, Riley glares when she sees me sliding into the seats after Marla and fitting between her and Racheal.

"You're wearing enemy colors," she nearly yells at me over the noise in the stadium, indicating down at my green hoodie and black jeans.

I shrug, taking my large serving of popcorn and tossing one into my mouth.

"You're wearing --"

"Carter's favorite colors," I answer her.

Riley freezes and so do Marla and Racheal. They look at me like they're expecting me to break down at the mention of my dead brother's name. I won't do it, though, that's not what he would have wanted. He didn't like being pitied so he won't like me using his name to get out of things. Instead of crying, then, I smile.

"I'm wearing my brother's favorite colors and I don't give a shit which team wins today," I repeat louder, not caring who hears me.

Neither of my friends says anything but Marla beams at me. I return her smile, reclining back in my seat and focusing on the flavor of butter melting in my mouth. As the noise increases and the teams march into the stadium so that the roaring gets so loud it makes my head hurt, I dig out my headphones and stuff them in my ears. The loud music booming in my ears isn't too pleasant but it's better than the incoherent yells of football-obsessed high school students with their screechy voices and clapping. Some groups have even made up their own cheer songs, singing slogans at the top of their voices. I focus on Chester's voice instead, tapping my foot in time with the music.

Riley elbows me in the ribs when the match begins. I look up to see approximately two dozen guys walk into the spotlight, forming ranks in the center. With their helmets on, I can't make out who is who. The only difference I can recognizing is by the colors of their uniforms. Green is the defensive unit and white the offensive unit which Carlos will be leading.

I neither have much information nor much interest in what's happening on the field but soon the game is on, with players racing this way and that. I stop paying attention after a while, listening to music and playing candy crush on my phone as I wait for the game to break halfway so I can make up an excuse and go home. Maybe I'll just sneak away and sit in the bathroom for a while instead of going home before returning to the bleachers.

Suddenly the nature of the noise changes and I frown, looking up as the entire crowd rises in one hasty movement.

"What happened?" I ask, my voice inaudible in the roars of panic.

"He's down!" Riley yells at me, her eyes wide in horror.

I attempt to peek at the game past the tall guys before me. They're now standing on their toes and yelling towards the enemy team, blocking my view. Knowing I won't be able to see anything, I turn to my friends who are white-faced and alarmed. Riley's frenzy at Carlos' injury is understandable but I don't know why Marla and Racheal are freaking out. The entire school is yelling and I can't remember the last time everyone was so concerned about Carlos. He might be popular but he's not this liked.

"Is he okay?" I cry out over the sound.

"I sure fucking hell hope so!" Marla shouts back, not tearing her eyes away from the field.

The wailing of ambulance sirens isn't loud enough to be heard over the dreadful sounds of the crowd as medics march onto the field, disappearing out of my view. I get to my feet, tilting my head this way and that. I only catch sight of someone being strapped onto a gurney and being rolled into an ambulance before it drives away in a rush.

Students are yelling and crying, while I continue to frown at the sight. The excitement that had a few moments ago been at its peak has is replaced with pain and anguish. Somehow, I feel like this has more to do than the loss of the game alone.

"What happened to Carlos?" I ask my friends.

Riley frowns. "Carlos? Carlos wasn't the one playing."

I blink, feeling completely clueless.

"Then who got hurt?" I ask.

My friends give me exasperated looks, probably upset at my oblivious attitude. I start to feel bad for not knowing what happened. I'm not a fan of football. But they know that. That's why their annoyance surprises me.

"Shane," Marla says. "Shane Gray got hurt."

Oh, well ... fuck you, universe!

*.*.*.*.*.*.*

A/N: I've never felt so disconnected from something I'm writing about. Haha, the only football I know of is soccer as Americans call it so I read through so many rules and team construction websites to get myself acquainted with American Football. If anything still seems amiss, please do educate me, guys. My half-Asian half-UK-based knowledge isn't fit with this story as much :D

Anyways, what are your thoughts about Shane and his injury? Will I break his leg or will he be okay? ;)