Super Bowl Rings // Rob Gronkowski

s i x t e e n

I walked into the familiar field house and threw my backpack down in an empty spot up against the wall.  I took a deep breath as I adjusted my T-shirt and looked around at the room of 500 girls that I now had to compete with.  It felt weird not sitting up at that judges table, feeling the eyes of every girl in the room on me and knowing that I was the one they all aspired to become.  No, instead here I was, number 447, a nobody among the crowd.  Taking a breath, I checked my phone for the time - 7:47 AM - and shook my head to clear the thoughts of Rob as I saw the still-unfamiliar empty space on my left ring finger.  

"Hanna!" I heard a voice squeal, and turned my head to see Trish heading across the sideline, dragging a rolling suitcase, 3 tote bags, and a floor length mirror.

I smiled at the ridiculous amount of things she was carrying, "Trish, you look like a pack rat."

She plopped her belongings down next to mine with a huff, "Hey, I have no idea what to expect.  I packed like I was gonna be moving in here for the next 3 weeks."

"You and me both on that front," I shrugged, "What number are you?"

She held up a pin that read 468.  "Damn.  I'm 447," I responded.

We continued to make small talk as we fixed our lipstick, stretched out our muscles, and sprayed our curled hair.  Finally, Leslie Parker stood up on the stage at the front of the field - the stage that I used to stand on - and the masses of girls started to move in that direction.  "Showtime," I muttered, and peeled off my Patriots shirt to reveal my teal rhinestoned bra top and booty short combination.

"Ok yes you hot mama!" Trish exclaimed.  I turned to see that she was wearing a pink outfit.

"Trish you wore that last year."

"Yeah but Parker doesn't know that!  I'm a babe on a budget," she shrugged, and I laughed and nodded at her point. 

"Touché."

We wandered out to the center of the field and sat along with the rest of the hopefuls.  My heart dropped even further as Leslie picked up the microphone.  "Welcome to tryouts for the 2019-2020 New England Patriots Cheerleaders!  We have 529 candidates today, and will be making a squad of 30.  The Patriots are the best of the best, and we will accept nothing less for the cheerleading squad.  As many of you likely know, I am new to the program and will be revamping past habits in the pursuit of greatness. No one has veteran status, every girl who steps on the field is a rookie candidate in my eyes and in the eyes of the judges.  I look forward to watching you all dance."  With that, she stepped off the stage, and we all spread out to begin a warmup.

I was leaning into a hamstring stretch when I felt a presence behind me.  "Ms. Rose, I hope that your attendance at this audition means we will not have any more issues with the policies I gave you?" Leslie asked.

Fuming internally at the gall she had to single me out in a room of 500, I smiled sweetly and held up my ring finger so she could see the tan line where my ring used to be.  "Unless a broken heart is against your policy, I am entirely in line with the new rules."

~

After a long first day of tryouts, I walked out of the field house alone.  The email with the numbers of the semi-finalists would be sent out tonight, so there was no point in sticking around Gillette any longer than I had to, especially considering even being around the Patriots' symbol was like squeezing lemon juice in a cut.  Girls were running around taking pictures, chatting, but I just wanted to lay on my couch.  I was looking around the parking lot for my car when I made eye contact with a tall figure exiting the nutrition building.  Taken aback, we stood still, staring at each other from across the parking lot.  If I had thought my heart was in shreds watching Leslie dismantle my team, that was nothing compared to how it felt now, seeing the only man I would ever truly love and not being able to go to him.  Finally, I wrenched myself away and ran to my car, tears flowing as I drove away.