" Welcome all of Eastwood High!" Principal Willis exclaims into the microphone as he takes a stand in the center of the field, "The night is beautiful and you know our boys have been practicing so we're in for an equally beautiful game tonight. Let's give it up for our 2018 Eastwood Tigers football team as they play the last game for the year!"
Screams and shouts are so loud, I can't even hear myself even though I'm screaming too. As if it's not enough the band joins in, matching into the field with their loud trumpets.
"Leading in the team," principal continues, then takes a dramatic pause because we all know what he's about to say. And that somehow has the crowd yelling decibels louder. For me it's bittersweet. "Is the one and only NFL player and Eastwood Tigers captain, Tyler Jones!"
As expected, Tyler runs out to the center already holding a mic and everybody's eye. Every feature of his face has that smooth golden look. Corner of his lips lifted in a smile. It's the first time he's ever addressing the school. The entire school. But with how effortless he seems to be, I'm nearly questioning if it is.
I hope Nathan's okay.
Friday game night started an hour ago. Two hours for some of us, a.k.a me. I had to be one of the early arrivers, first because I've got a friend who had to be here early as being not just a cheerleader but head of the cheer team. I went up to her house for us to get ready together. I already was ready, all I needed was the Nathan's jersey I wear for tradition and black jeans. And eyeliner. But Pamela needed a ton of things so I helped with that.
Second reason for being one of the early birds is 'cause I had work with the media. Which has thankfully been rounded up. The speed of movement from all my fellow teammates, plus the heavy editing done in the lighted up room got me dizzy within just minutes of being there.
We pulled up into the impressively packed parking lot at 6:02pm. There were still spaces for a few other cars of course but it was impressive, nevertheless. Shows how serious we take football in Eastwood High. And the opposing school, I guess.
I bought popcorn at a stand nearby, and watched as more people filled up the stadium. Also witnessed as specific workers turned the mere open field to a lighted up arena. Now the bleachers are filled with the people from earlier who'd just been roaming around when I got here, all are both people from our school and the opposing. Also cheerleaders of ours and the other school are down on the field in sparkly blue and orange uniforms respectively.
During history class on Tuesday - that was the first day I noticed we did history together. Had been doing history together for the past three years. As much as I tried to hide the shock, she must've noticed. But, however, didn't say anything. Just nodded her head when our eyes met but- where was I?
During history class, well, after, I asked Victoria if we could meet again for our team project. She'd returned to working solo, but it wasn't one-sided since we both agreed we'd work on different parts of the project on our own then meet up after.
With first making my best friend see reason, amicably responding to all her tantrums of me finally abandoning her because Pamela can be that dramatic, Victoria and I spent the entire Tuesday afternoon at my house, working. And laughing too whenever anything funny came up. She even laughed at some of my lame jokes. Some.
We met up daily after that and in the course of three after-school days, I got to see that Victoria Taiwo could actually, smile, laugh, make a joke, take her glasses off- I knew she took her glasses off of course, like when she sleeps. But to see her do that once around me, was a shock. I think I'm the weird one. She could own an opinion, fight it out and just all in all, have a normal conversation. With me. In the course of those three after school days I got to see that Victoria Taiwo didn't actually hate me, I just need to stop jumping into the worst impossible conclusions.
However, I was still surprised when she asked if the seat beside mewas occupied. The place was packed, yes, yet there were still many other vacant seats. Plus the fact that it seemed she'd been looking out for me, had me realizing I'd made a good impression in the short time of knowing her. Also had me taking my journal off the seat, nodding, "Of course."
Like me, she's in a jersey. Brown with Lacey short sleeves and a big 29 written on the front. Mine's blue with a big 09 on it.
There hasn't been much conversation between us but she's made a few ugly remarks about the players from the opposing team, school spirit, and I've said a few things in response.
This time I decide to speak first, "So, who do you think is going to win?" I ask though I know I must be yelling so she can hear me. The game hasn't even started but people here talk so much it can't be quiet for a minute.
"If these tigers don't win," is all she says before coach's whistle screeches. However, I don't think she was going to say any more. It sounded like one of those sassy statements with open endings.
While a lot of us were keen on the game that we stayed glued to our seats the whole time, some really just came for the food. Because it wouldn't even be up to five minutes and the same person I'd seen get up to buy a hotdog will get up again to buy popcorn. One group of friends even bought a pizza- does this look like a friendly get-together? They're something else. And I'm glad Victoria noticed, got pissed as well. That's my definition of school spirit. When our eyes met we made the universal facial expression of being irritated.
We also kept talking throughout the game, although I'm scared it's just me. We hailed praises anytime our school scored, booed whenever Parody High- the opposing school, did. In between that I'd fill Victoria in on unimportant parts of my life because I couldn't.stop.talking. I don't know why.
The first story I told her was of the time I had a rabbit, a white rabbit that looked just like the one that ran into the field, distorting the game a bit till a blonde girl in a grey sweater ran into the field and yelled Nacho. Now we don't exactly know if the rabbit's name is Nacho, or... or it likes nachos so it was kind of a bait to get it running back to her because it did. It ran back to her and she picked it up. Said one of those awkward sorry's you say in uncomfortable situations before climbing up the bleachers. I later found out she sat in the line of seats right above my line.
But that my rabbit got lost, unfortunately, in the park one Saturday.
I also told Victoria of the pet puppy I had, Lisa, white with brown spots.
"It got lost too. On a Sunday." I said to her when she asked what happened to it.
"You're not very good with pets."
I agreed 'cause... well.
Having disturbed her with stories she could have probably lived on without knowing, I returned to giving the football game my rapt attention.
And it's been that way before she shifts in her seat beside me, our arms brushing, I'm about drawing my arm away when I notice it was.. kind of intentional. I raise both my brows at her.
"So," She starts, taking her arm back. "What's up with you and the new boy?"
The first thing my heart does is pause. Feels like I'm driving a car with drugs and cops on my tail.
But I let out a small laugh, hoping it's not coming out as nervous as I feel. "What? Us?"
"Uh-huh."
"Nothing."
"Okay." She nods. But somehow, her letting it go so easily has me on edge. It'd honestly have felt better if she'd put up more of a fight.
"Why though? Why do you think there could've been something?"
"I don't know. It's just the way he looks at you. From across the hallway, the cafeteria..." she trails her last words, turning to face me with one brow lifted. "Right now."
A loud holler cuts across the stadium, echoing as I check the scoreboard to find out our school won. But that's no surprise, I had faith in my school. Always have. It's more of a surprise to see that among the players from our school toppling over Tyler, Nathan's inclusive. I guess it's what adrenaline does to you.
Yet even with all the action going on around him, his eyes are on me. Directly. That's the bigger surprise. His golden smile seems to be for me too and my mind goes back to Monday when he'd asked if he was doing great too. Like he needed my opinion. My opinion.
I bite on my lower lip but I know he knows I'm smiling. And I kinda don't mind if he does.
Tracing my eyes back to Victoria though, I put up the best confused face I can - I know I got kindly advised by miss Rachel to drop drama class but I sure hope my act is working.
If it's not, the nonchalant shrug probably helps. "He could be staring at you."
"Yeah." She snorts in a way that reminds me of my sister. "Yeah, right."
Minutes after the game's over, the place is still buzzing with excitement. I mean, people who supported our school would be the reason.
Our stadium could also be buzzing with anger, no student from Parody high looks excited. To say the least.
But my eyes don't bother looking for them in the crowd, rather I'm searching for... well, Tyler. I'm also searching for all our school players to congratulate them.
Okay, fine it's mostly him I'm searching for.
Yet it's Pamela I find first, and she finds me just as soon. Then in unison we begin making it to each other, me cornering people on the stairs down the bleachers, and she racing up the field. We meet at the bottom.
"You look so cute in that Jersey!" She gushes.
"Stop lying! You know I'm being swallowed."
She laughs. It's one of her hearty laughs where her honey brown eyes light up, the same one she'd let out when she saw me in it before we drove here. Though she added after that it's cute though.
"I wonder when you'll grow into it. It's been what? Three years?"
"That's not important. You did really great today. All that cheer choreography was pretty amazing."
"Well, duh." She says in a sassy tone, yet she's taking a humble bow. "We do what we do to stay were we want. I'd been looking for you while performing, all night even, didn't find you."
"Oh?"
"Where did you sit?"
"On the left wing," I twist backwards a little to show her the exact spot. Instantly met with Victoria who's still seated on the seat beside where I'd been. "There."
"With her, I suppose."
"Hey, don't get like that."
"I will, okay? What do you expect me do, you've been hanging around her all week." She huffs.
"You say that like we've been drinking cocktails and tanning on the beach."
"Well, how would I know."
"Pamela, it's a project. We'll be done by December so let's not go over this again."
"Are you guys hanging out today?"
I sigh, giving her a once-over. She has her hair high up in a ponytail and face looking like a frustrating toddler. Which she also sounds like right now.
"No. With a Friday like this, there's no time for that. I just want to go home and sleep, when are we leaving?"
"Amy," she scratches her nose and scrunches it up, her usual way of asking why the hell is it itchy? I laugh while she shakes her head. "Anyway, Amy's inviting me to the football after party."
"Don't they always invite you? And isn't it, like, a party open to you without an invite?"
"Yeah, but this time I want to go." Her beady eyes study my expression so she goes all and knowing my face isn't filled with joy it explains why she goes, "kinda. Maybe not? I'm just thinking, like—"
Her name gets called from across the field. Margo. She waves at me, then waves Pamela over. Her skirt, of course skimpy as it is, does nothing to cover her thunderous thighs. But I like it. Get a weird sense of security from it 'cause while I shouldn't need such comfort, Margo's one of the 'It' girls in Eastwood High and yes, it's nice to see that not all of them are skinny and pretty. Some have thighs like mine.
"I'll text you, I promise, on what the plans are." Pamela says, holding my shoulders in her hands then letting go. "But I'll probably not go anyway, so see you soon."
I watch her run off to Margo, then watch them run off to some other part of the school.
I'm about sighing and returning to my seat when I spot a certain silhouette in the shady part where the lights don't reach. Tyler.
Don't.
I ate a lot of hotdogs tonight but I know it can't make me tipsy. When I get off the seats arena entirely, I can't blame it on the alcohol, I don't even take that. But I really wouldn't be jogging across the sides of the field if Tyler hadn't caught my eye yet looked away immediately.
We don't have to smile at each other 24/7, we don't have to. But it's a happy school night and he's part of the reason our school won and everyone's busy talking anyway and—
I guess I'll just use any excuse right now.
He should have smiled at me.
Following him leads to a slightly dark area where scattered gravel crunch beneath my feet. Little white lights help me spot him almost immediately.
"Hi!"
He first freezes, then turns around to meet me, eyebrows pinching in question. "Hey."
"Uh, I wanted to congratulate you. On the win."
He nods, slow. "Every player did their part for it."
"Yeah. Yeah, you're right, of course." I dust my palms behind my jeans as I watch him. Hoping he'll... I don't know, make conversation.
"Nice jersey." Sigh. I think I actually let out the breath of relief from hearing him go on.
"Thanks! Nathan gave it to me, it's kind of our tradition for every big game night."
He nods curtly, his eyes on the shirt. The jersey's twice my size, so there's no avenue for it to hug my chest. Not like I have any attractive thing there, it's genetic and Danielle says we're not just members but should be proud members of the flat chest community.
I try to remind myself of all these wonderful things when Tyler's eyes stay a minute too long on the outfit.
"I thought you weren't dating."
"What?" I choke on a cough. " We... we aren't. I said said we weren't 'cause we're not."
His blue eyes stay on my brown ones like they're searching for the truth. And honestly, his expression resembles the type that's waiting for me to crack, confess. Confess what?
Then like our stare hadn't been intense, he turns to leave.
It's a stupid question, but to stop him, I call out a weak, "Are you leaving?"
"The fuck do you want, Melissa?"
I instantly recoil, even though his tone wasn't angry, more like.. tired. Maybe I should've let him leave.
"Are you mad at me?"
He sighs, turning fully to face me again. "Confused. Honestly. 'Cause you've made it pretty clear you'd rather not be seen around here with me, and now you're coming up for a chit-chat."
True.
Maybe I'm only talking to him because it's dark. And secluded, the closest building is the mini-set up of a popcorn stand and it's no longer as busy as it was before now. Plus if anyone saw me here, I could always say I just came to congratulate him on the win.
"It's not that I don't want to be seen around you."
He looks up to the night sky, pinching the bridge of his nose before reforming. "Look, I'm not trying to cause any trouble. And I'd never steal anyone's girl—"
"I'm not anyone's girl." I bite back and he blinks. Twice.
"Sure. Um. I'm not trying to date someone else's—"
"Please, stop already, I've told you Nathan and I aren't an item, we're friends almost family so it's disgusting how you keep bringing it up. I've made it clear."
"Have you?"
"Are you jealous?" I ask, shocking myself. But I don't seem to shock him 'cause he doesn't even flinch. No surprise etched on his face and he doesn't ask me why I'd even think that. Or give a flat-out no.
Instead, he shocks me with another question. "What if I am?"
I blink.
He blinks too, but it's not exactly out of surprise. He really just looks tired.
"Tyler,"
"Look." He says, lazily walking the remaining steps to me. "I'm trying. I'm really trying not to—"
"Not to what?"
The tired look in his eyes immediately go away, leaving them clear. The clear blue they should be.
I don't realize how close he is, how many steps he's covered till I can smell his cologne. He smells like he just had a shower, and that's funny since he just finished from the field.
I don't realize how close he is till his thumb strokes my cheek.
When I raise my head to meet his gaze, I find him already staring. While the shady environment keeps most parts of his face dark, the moon illuminates other parts. And whenever the wind tilts the oak trees to the side, I see more of him.
"What do you want me to do?" He asks, voice low and deep. When I don't answer, he cocks his head to the side.
But no amount of that can get me to respond.
Everything's too much.
He's too close. His thumb on my cheek feels too good.
And when he gets even closer to place a feather kiss on my forehead, it's like he doesn't want an answer at all.
It's everything I've ever wanted but only dreamed of. It's like free-falling. Or falling off a cliff.