by Erica Hobbs
“Do you think I should go with Matt to this football game?” I asked, hoping she would fall for the topic change.
My mom had her final stretches and sat down on her mat, too. She drank some water, and she turned so we were facing each other, mirroring each other. She wasn’t a traditional mom to me; she was more like a best friend. I liked it.
“Why not? You’ve never been to a game, and it’s really something to experience.”
I lay down on my back. “I don’t know if I want to. It’s football.”
Mom chuckled. “It is. But when you’re in a group of people it can really be fun. Why don’t you ask your friends to go with you? You can also ask Matt to invite his. Make an event of it. Who knows? Maybe someone might even catch your eye.” She winked at me.
“Thanks, mom. I think I’ll pass on anyone who’s a fan of hooligans messing around in the mud.”
Mom shrugged and got up.
“You never know, sweetie, maybe there’s a prince charming under all that grime.”
She gave me a smile and left the room. I sighed and closed my eyes. Chances were slim, but I wasn’t going for a ‘prince charming’ anyway. I was going to shut Matt up. And to do something I hadn’t done yet. This was the time in life to experience things. While I was still young, right? If I invited friends, I could do it. If it were boring, at least I would have my girls there to talk to. And if I were a bad sport, Matt would always have his friends to talk to.
Maybe it could still work.
Chapter 5
Alyssa
Matt’s friends were weird. They were all from college, and I didn’t get along with them. You get people who fit into your group – people who are the same as you even if you don’t know them very well. And then you get people who are so different they can be really unpredictable.
Matt’s friends were of the unpredictable kind. I didn’t like unpredictable.
Tanya and Grace couldn’t make it, while all of Matt’s friends had pulled through. This meant that on the day of the football game between the Denver Broncos and the New York Jets, I was the only girl in a group of six.
I felt completely left out.
The stadium was bigger than anything I could have imagined. Sure, I’d driven past it, and I’d seen it on television, but being in it was completely different. I was squashed between Broncos fans all around me, their orange and blue jerseys were bright and offensive. I felt out of place with my white tank top and blue jeans. Even Matt and his friends were dressed for the occasion.
The atmosphere was electric, excitement wrapping around the fans all around us. I didn’t catch the fever everyone else was running so high on.
“There are a lot of people here,” I said to Matt. He was talking to one of his friends, and he completely ignored me.
“The turnout is always great at a home game,” one of his friends said. I vaguely remembered him when Matt introduced him; I think his name was Leo. He was quiet and didn’t fall into the conversation as the others. Maybe he felt left out, too.
“It’s quite spectacular,” I said. Leo nodded, with his brown hair falling into his face. He didn’t say anything else. Maybe he didn’t know how to speak to a woman. I tried to carry on the conversation. “How long does a game last?”
“If you look at the time the ball is in play, it’s about eleven minutes,” Leo answered. Thank you, Mr. Technical.
“And the actual game?”
“About three hours,” he said. I blinked at him.
“Three hours?”
He nodded. “Yeah, if it’s a pro game.”
“Which is what we’re watching today?”
He nodded. Three hours? I was stuck with five football fanatics in a game I hated, without any of my friends, and I was going to have to sit here for three hours? Oh, I wished I’d said no.
“Do they allow pass outs?” I asked, glancing at the gate. Matt turned, hearing that.
“You can’t ditch me today,” he protested.
I folded my arms over my chest. “Why? You ditched me on the run.”
Matt gaped, opening and closing his mouth with nothing to say. I was in the lead again.
The line moved slowly forward, and it was finally our turn to get through the gate. Once inside, I turned to Matt.
“Give me my ticket so I can find the seat.”
They weren’t paying attention to me. I had to be able to fend for myself. Matt gave me a ticket and carried on talking to his buddy. I looked at it and tried to figure out the block and the seat number.
“Come on,” Matt said a moment, later, looking me in the eye and acknowledging my existence. “The boys want to go get a beer, first.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I’d been standing there for a long time already, and I would have to be here for even longer. I didn’t want to go to a pub and stand in another queue for something I didn’t want. And I also didn’t want to be ignored anymore.
“I need to go to the ‘ladies’ room,” I said.
Matt looked irritated. “I’m sure there’s one in The Tavern.”
I didn’t know if there would be one or not, but I didn’t want to go with them. I had already been left out of the conversation, so beer and more boy talk just wouldn’t cut it.
“You guys go. I’ll find the restrooms and make my way to my seat.” I waved my ticket in his face. “You guys come sit when you’re done.”
Matt hesitated for only a second before he gave me a nod and turned around. His friends started off in a direction, and he followed without even looking over his shoulder.
What a gentleman.
What was supposed to work out as a win-win for both of us had just turned into the exact opposite for me. Lose-lose? Try Lose-r. I took a deep breath and walked with a flow of people moving in another direction.
The stadium was confusing. I couldn’t figure out where I was going or where I needed to be. It was overwhelming, and the proportions were ridiculous. I didn’t know where to find the restrooms, and every time I thought I saw an opening leading to my desired destination, the crowd dragged me along. Everyone headed toward their seats. No one seemed to need to pee before the game started.
I was getting irritated. Matt shouldn’t have let me go alone. Yes, I’d insisted, but it was because he was ignoring me. This was a total failure of a day.
Slowly the crowds thinned, and the tunnels changed. Maybe the game had already started. Everything was suddenly so quiet and empty.
I tried to find someone to give me directions; anyone who could help me find my way to the restroom and then my seat. There was no one around now, and I had the feeling I was very far down in the tunnels, in the belly of the stadium. I stopped and looked around, feeling lost and annoyed. I heard the roar of the crowd overhead, a consistent sound like waves breaking on the shore. I couldn’t see them at all.
I kept walking.
I turned down a tunnel, a lot lighter than the others. Double doors up ahead and to the left and right were the only exits of the tunnel. One of them had to lead to the restrooms. I needed to pee, and I was starting to feel like I wanted to go home, no matter what the ticket had cost or who I’d come with.
One of the doors on my right opened, and I slowed down. A man in tight blue pants and a vest stepped out. His dark hair was messy, and he had a lot of muscle going around.
“Excuse me?” I said and walked closer to him. He turned and frowned. His green eyes were the color of a forest, and he seemed irritated. I swallowed and pushed on. I was lost.
“You’re not supposed to be down here,” he said. He sounded as pissed off as he looked. Instead of feeling like I was indeed out of line I became annoyed with him.
“There’s no one anywhere to help me find my way. I didn’t know what else to do than to keep wandering until I found someone.”
He blinked at me. Whatever was bothering him radiated off him. Instead of making me nervous about where I was, it rubbed me up the wrong way. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I fo
lded my arms over my chest.
“The best way to get back to where you came from is to actually turn around and go back the way you came from.”
I raised my eyebrow. Was that… sarcasm? “Thank you for that. I wasn’t sure how it worked.” I could throw it right back at him if that’s what he wanted. “Just point me in the direction of the restroom, and I’ll figure the rest out for myself.”
He smirked. Smirked! The corners of his mouth curled up, and his green eyes became lighter, dancing, laughing…laughing at me.
“You don’t know where to find the restroom?” He asked. The smirk was still in place, his eyes searching mine as if we shared a private joke.
“Not everyone comes to games all the time. I’m lost, and I’m asking for help. It’s common courtesy to help.” I dropped my arms.
He stilled, and I felt proud of myself for telling him how it was.
His mouth formed an ‘O’ shape, and he nodded slowly, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. He looked amused. Entertained. It pissed me off.
“It’s a little below my pay grade to usher you around, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart? God, if he keeps pushing it like this…
I clenched my hands into fists. His eyes flicked down at them. I fought the urge to hide my hands behind my back. Instead, I folded my arms over my chest to hide them, and for me to look more intimidating. What was with this guy’s problem?
“Well, sorry to be a nuisance, your highness,” I said. “I’ll just be on my way then.”
He stepped away from the wall, legs apart, mirroring me, and his muscles flexed. His arms were impressive. He didn’t look like an usher, and he definitely wasn’t dressed like one. I looked up at his face again.
He was too handsome just to be someone pointing out seats in a stadium. Dark hair, green eyes, a smattering of freckles on his nose. But the green eyes really got me. His mouth was smirking at me, an arrogant look all over his face, but those eyes were the saddest eyes I had ever seen.
“Better take a picture. It will last longer,” he said. I snapped out of my reverie, and the anger returned.
“I was just asking for directions. I didn’t realize you were above helping a fellow human being.”
“Don’t you know who I am?” He asked. I still got the feeling he was laughing at me. I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to place his face. He didn’t look familiar at all.
“Of course, I know who you are,” I said. I dropped my arms to my sides. “You’re the arrogant asshole who thinks he is better than me.”
I turned on my heel and marched away. His chuckle followed me, and my cheeks burned.
I felt like an idiot.
I felt proud.
And I felt like I’d missed something I should have known. I had put him in his place, though. The conflict gnawed at me as I stormed down another tunnel and then another, turning and turning again until suddenly I found a restroom.
By the time I finally found my seat, the guys were all sitting down, talking and drinking. The seats were all filled, and a combination of orange and blue, and green and white jerseys filled the stands. I sat down.
“Where were you?” Matt asked.
“I got lost,” I said. “You’ll never guess what happened.”
One of Matt’s friends said something, and he was distracted for a while. I could see vendors selling food and drinks walking up and down between the blocks of seats almost everywhere in the stadium. I looked at the field, taking in everything there was for me to see. It was lit with massive floodlights, and the white paint was a great contrast on the green grass.
“You were saying?” Matt asked, his attention finally back on me.
“I ran into an asshole while I was looking for the restroom.”
“No,” Matt said flatly. I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic. He had the tendency to act differently when his friends were around.
“I know right? In a stadium full of football fans? Who knew?” Two could play at this game. Matt glared at me.
I shrugged. “Anyway, I asked him where the restrooms were, and he told me it was below his pay grade to tell me.”
Matt frowned. “He said that?”
I nodded. “He did. He was a looker, though. Muscles and freckles.”
“Sounds dreamy,” Matt said. Sarcasm again? I nodded. “Point him out when you see him, I’ll set my friends on him,” Matt said. I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me or just being nice. Ah, he was just as unpredictable as his friends were.
“I will,” I said.
The rest of the conversation was cut short. The game was about to begin, and the teams jogged onto the field. The roar of the crowd when the Broncos stepped into it was deafening. It wasn’t hard to tell who had more support in the stands.
One by one the players’ faces were showed on big screens all around the stadium. I watched, only half-listening as Matt and his friends discussed every player’s talent and stats like they knew everything there was to them.
When they were done with the visiting team, they continued with the home team. The first face to appear on the screen was one I recognized. It took me all of two seconds to realize where I’d seen him before.
Mr. Muscles was Powerhouse Jake Nash, the Broncos’ star player. Everyone went mad when they showed his face on the screen. I nudged Matt.
“That’s him,” I said.
“Who?” Matt asked absently.
“The asshole I was telling you about.”
“Did he look like him?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s him. He was the one who told me it was below his pay grade to help me.”
It all made sense now. He could still have been nice, but it made sense.
Matt snorted. “Yeah, right. Ali, you’re not that special. Maybe he looked a bit like him, but what are the chances you spoke to the hero himself…? I don’t think so.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the game kicked off and I lost Matt to it. There was no way I was going to be able to talk to him now, whether I was trying to convince him of my observational skills or tell him something completely unrelated to football. I’d lost him.
Whatever. He didn’t have to believe me. I knew the truth, and the truth was that Powerhouse Jake was an asshole.
I don’t care who you are, respect is respect, and it must be damn well be earned.
Chapter 6
Damien
Powerhouse Jake. That’s what they all called him. Even my dad referred to him like that, as if it was officially written on his birth certificate. As if he had the capacity to light up the city. Anything other than an average, annoying-as-fuck human.
He was not my favorite. Maybe I was the only one in the whole damn Denver who felt that way about him, but if there was one thing I was entitled to, this was my opinion. I’d already lost my family’s respect for my ability to play pro football, but I could think what I wanted, and no one could say shit about it.
Not even big man Clyde over there who had decided I was the runt of the team and worth hating just for existing. That kind of sentiment did the rounds, didn’t it?
We all lined up inside the tunnel just outside the locker room. Jake was first, obviously. That was who they were all waiting for. The crowd was electric – we all felt the buzz even before we stepped on the field. I just knew none of this was for me. It had been a bitch in the beginning when I’d started dropping the ball. The only thing worse than being dumped by a family is being dumped by the whole fan group.
I’d gotten over that. The only way to survive in this life is by growing a thick skin. Powerhouse Jake, Thickskin Damien. It had a ring to it.
Jake wasn’t his usual self, though. I didn’t know if anyone else noticed it, but I did. The fact I knew him so well was annoying already, but there you go. I didn’t want to be obsessed with the guy, but it was hard to ignore someone when your parents spoke about his successes more than yours – it was hard to miss.
He stood at the front of th
e line, moving his feet, stepping side to side, squeezing his hands open and closed, open and closed, but his mind wasn’t on the game. The look in his eyes was distant. He didn’t look focused.
We had better win this game. At least, if we lost, it had better be because of him instead of me, for a change. Like that would ever happen. My dad should have been putting his efforts into me, not him. I was his son. Jake was a kid who’d lost his parents. Sad. But he had his skill, and he was able like the rest of us. It was swell of my dad to recommend both of us for scouting. It was shit he treated him like a prodigal son. He wasn’t even family.