So . . . That Happened

by Laci Maskell

  I take her to the north side of the stadium where the statue of Brook Berringer and Tom Osborne is. I tell her his story and why he is and will always be my favorite Nebraska Husker football player. About how he took over when Tommy Frasier got injured and how he played a game with a collapsed lung and how he got sidelined when Tommy was well again and how even when he wasn’t playing he was still the heart and soul of that team. When she asks why he, and no other players have statues I tell her. And then I tell her that he died in a plane crash when he was twenty two years old and how Nebraska mourned him. She doesn’t call me on it when I tell her the year he died and she realizes I wasn’t born yet. She may not understand how a player I’ve never seen play before is my favorite, but for reasons I don’t know she lets it slide. I want to take a picture of her with the statue. I want to take a picture of us together. But I know if I did, I wouldn’t have the heart to delete them off my phone and Amelia or Jesse would find them and I’d be screwed.

  Next, I take Lux to the student bookstore. It’s a great store, plus I have a surprise for her. When we walk into the store there is a large group of people near the entrance all huddle around something we can’t see. Moving away from the crowd, we head downstairs to where most of the clothes are. I don’t care about the books.

  “Wow,” Lux says when we hit the bottom step. “There are so many clothes.”

  I chuckle behind her and move forward. Who knew the little things would incite such reactions from her. I thought maybe the game itself would get a rise out of her, but I didn’t think anything before it would. Though I was hoping.

  “Look around,” I tell her. “Tell me if you spot anything you like, I haven’t gotten a new sweatshirt in a while.”

  “You want me to pick out a sweatshirt for you?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  Lux raises an eyebrow at me but seconds later she is browsing the racks. I watch her from a distance. She’s so cute when she’s concentrating, her eyebrows knit together, then raise, then lower again. I’ve never smiled so much watching someone look at clothes.

  After a few minutes of watching her, I browse for myself.

  Without hearing her Lux is behind me with a sweatshirt in her hands.

  I nod when she shows it to me and say, “Is that your favorite?”

  “Yes,” she says but I can hear something besides the truth in her voice.

  “Lux?”

  “No,” she says, “But it’s the cheapest.”

  I raise my eyebrow at her, tilt my head, point to my chest, and say, “Do you think I’m worried about money?”

  Her face contorts like I’ve offended her and I realize too late that I probably have. I know Lux’s family isn’t the wealthiest and I should not have rubbed my wealth in her face.

  I try to shake it off by saying, “How about you show me your favorite one?”

  I follow behind Lux as she leads me to a rack with her favorite sweatshirt.

  She pulls one from the rack that I notice is in my size. “This is the one?” I ask noting that it is an awesome sweatshirt. It’s black with the Blackshirts skull and cross bones on it and in bold letters that look like they’ve been struck by lightning it says, Skers Blackshirts.

  She nods as way of answer.

  “And what’s your size?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What’s your size? This is now your sweatshirt.”

  “Greyson no. I don’t need you to buy me a sweatshirt.” She fishes in her purse for her wallet.

  Great, so I’ve offended her twice within minutes.

  I place my hand over hers, force her to put her wallet back in her purse and tell her, “Look. I planned on doing this the whole time. You don’t have any Husker gear and in order to enter that stadium you must. This is not about money and I’m sorry if I upset you. I want you to have this. Please let me get it for you.”

  Lux looks mad. I’d laugh if she didn’t look so mad. She crosses her arms as if she’s sizing me up.

  On pure adrenaline I cup her face in my hand, pull her within inches of my face and, in a ridiculous little kid voice, say, “Smile please.”

  Her face contorts with her attempt not to smile but then she can’t hold it anymore and a large grin spreads across her lips. I smile back at her and wrinkle my nose at her.

  “I’m done asking nicely,” I tell her. “I am buying you this sweatshirt whether you like it or not so pick out your size.”

  Lux picks a sweatshirt in her size from the rack then goes upstairs to look around while I pay for it.

  When I make my way upstairs to join her I find her near the entrance where the large group huddled before.

  “Who’s that hot guy sitting at the table?” she asks.

  “Um, thanks,” I say, but turn to where she’s looking. “No way.”

  “What?” Lux asks, her curiosity piqued. “Fill me in.”

  “That, my fine friend, is Rex Burkhead, possibly my second favorite Husker of all time.”

  “Really?” Lux asks, looking back at Rex. “What’s his story?”

  “He graduated last year. He was this fantastic Running Back. He could get through any tackle, score any touch down. And beyond playing football, he became friends with this six year old boy named Jack who has cancer. He brought him to games, talked to him on the phone, visited him in the hospital. It was awesome. This year at the spring game they let Jack play with them and he scored a touchdown. It’s like the biggest thing to have happened in Husker football in a long time.”

  Lux watches me with a gleam in her eye but something else.

  “So let me get this straight,” she says. “These players, who are amazing people who treat people better than they ask to be treated are your favorite players?”

  I eye her wondering where she is going with this. Sadly I think I already know.

  “I like being popular, Lux. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. I get it. I just meant, it’s nice to see the real you. I mean, a different you. I’m not asking you to be someone you’re not. But it’s nice to see the person you are. Outside of school, that is.”

  I smile, grab her around the neck, and pull her into me. She laughs and plays at trying to get away. It’s going to suck when today is over.

  “Do you want to go talk to him?” she asks.

  “Nah, there are hundreds of other people who want to talk to him. Plus, I got to meet him when I toured the school last year. Do you want to go meet him?”

  Lux wrinkles her face as if she’s deciding but shakes her head and says, “No, I’d like to stick with the picture you’ve painted for me.”

  “Ok, but I promise you he lives up to it. You sure you don’t want a picture with the hot guy?”

  She grins with one side of her face and says, “If you’re willing to take one with me, then yes.”

  My heart slams into my ribs and my knees almost give out before I can catch myself. This girl is going to be the end of me.

  I can’t help myself. So what if I get caught. I need to see, in digital proof, what we look like together. Lux pulls out her phone, opens the camera, and we snap a picture together. It’s as good, if not better than I imagined. I have her send it to me even though I know I won’t be able to keep it. I’ll look at it as many times as I can before I have to delete it. I’ll memorize it so I won’t have to be without it.

  I can’t like her. I can’t

  And yet I can’t deny the fact that I may possibly, more than likely, be falling for this girl.

  I can’t.

  My heart and my head war with each other until I force my head to win. I have today to be with her. One day to be perfect together until I give her up and continue my life as it should be.

  “Come on, you,” I tell her, dragging her out of the bookstore and on to the next point on our list. “Are you hungry?”

  Lux turns to me with wide eyes and says, “I’m pregnant, I’m always hungry.”

  I laugh at her until I realize she
’s serious and steer us towards the only place I eat on game days.

  We head off campus and walk a block until I stop us in front of the best fast food I’ve ever eaten.

  “Lux, welcome to Raisin Canes. I really hope you like chicken.”

  “And if I don’t?” she asks.

  “Uh,” I say, depression setting in. “I guess . . . we could go somewhere else.”

  She looks totally serious until a large grin breaks across her face. “I’m kidding. But you should have seen the look on your face.”

  “That was rude,” I tell her.

  “So, what, they just have chicken here?”

  “Yeah. The menu consists of chicken strips, fries, and more chicken strips.”

  “Let’s go,” she says, heading for the door.

  We order, sit down to eat, and when she takes her first bite and moans I feel jealous of the chicken.

  “That is good chicken,” she says.

  My cheeks hurt hard core. I’ve never smiled so long in my life.

  “Have you tried the sauce?” I ask, my serious voice coming out.

  Another bite. Another moan. Damn chicken.

  Lux

  I am tired and overwhelmed. Not the best combination to relieve stress but I am having such a good day I don’t even care. I think the joy of today is far overshadowing how drained I feel.

  “Okay,” Greyson says as we walk out of Raisin Canes. “We have two more things to do before we get into the stadium. Are you ready?”

  “I think so,” I tell him.

  “Are your feet rested? It’s a bit of a walk.”

  “I think so,” I repeat.

  “Well, if I have to carry you I guess I can do that.”

  I laugh at him. I’m sure he could carry me, at least for a little bit, but the struggle would become real if he had to do it for a long time.

  Greyson leads us back on campus and before long I can hear a beating of some sort. As we get closer the beating becomes a drum line. The closer we get the louder the drums become. There is a swarm of people around the drum line. Swarms of people is definitely one thing I have learned from today. A LOT of people have a passion for Husker football. I can’t see how I could have missed out on it when this many people are in love with it. There are tons of people everywhere. If I were alone or if I weren’t with Greyson, who is so calm about the crowds, I would be panicking.

  Greyson squeezes us between the packed bodies until we are about as close to the drum line as we can get without touching them. The force of the drum line is intense. I can feel the beats in my bones. The ground shakes beneath my feet. I have never felt such pure power in my life. The drummers look so stoic, their faces not changing.

  “They all look pissed,” I say, turning to Greyson.

  “They are supposed to. I guess. But the way I look at it, they are passionate.”

  I turn back to the drummers and continue to feel it in every fiber of my body. I wonder if the volume and the vibrations are good for the baby but before I can say anything to Greyson the drummers are finished, the crowd is clapping, and both groups are moving on.

  “Where are they going?” I ask.

  I suddenly miss the rhythm and the pulsing through my body.

  “Into the stadium to join the rest of the band.”

  “Oh,” I say, on the verge of a pout.

  “Come on. There’s one last thing you need to see.”

  Greyson takes my hand. My stomach twists at the contact. It’s girly and cliché but Greyson gives me butterflies. His hand is warm and rough around mine.

  It’s going to suck when today is over.

  After a distance I can see Greyson is leading us to a bridge, overpass thing.

  He stops us in front of the overpass and stands in front of me. “This is going to seem really stupid to you, but we are going to walk to the other side of the overpass and then walk back.”

  “Ok,” I say. I decided early on today not to question anything Greyson says and just go with whatever he wants.

  He stares at me, one eyebrow raised. “You’re not going to yell at me? Or tell me no? Or call me stupid?”

  “Do you want me to?” I ask, a small grin on my face.

  Greyson smiles and wrinkles his nose at me. It’s kind of adorable on him. And not something he would be caught dead doing at school.

  He pulls on my hand and leads me across the overpass. When we get to the end we find a mass of bodies. And when I say a mass, I mean a mob, a drove if you will. There are SO many people. Greyson wasn’t kidding when he said Lincoln would be the most populated city in Nebraska today. I think they emptied out Nebraska and sent the populous to Lincoln. When we join the group we again work our way through the bodies until we find a suitable spot.

  Like a switch has been flipped, the crowd starts moving back over the overpass. Someone near the front starts a chant saying, very slowly, “Go Big Red.” The rest of the throng chants with him, faster, “Go. Big. Red.” Before I know what is happening Greyson and I have joined the chant and I don’t even feel stupid. The chant changes from “Go Big Red” to “Husker, Power.” We are over the bypass in mere seconds and I miss it when it’s over.

  My cheeks hurt but I can’t stop smiling. I’ve never enjoyed myself so much. And the game hasn’t even started.

  Greyson checks our tickets then leads us to a gate where again there are a lot of people.

  “What time is it?” I ask. It feels like we’ve been here all day and yet not long at all.

  “One,” he says after he’s checked the time on his phone.

  “The game starts in an hour. Why don’t we look around some more?”

  “Because,” he says. “Part of the nub experience is getting into the stadium right away and watching it fill up.”

  “We’re going to watch people fill the stadium?” I ask, skepticism slipping into my voice.

  Greyson narrows his eyes at me and says, “Trust me.”

  “You’re right,” I say. “You have yet to let me down. Today,” I tack on the end. I know he catches it. And I know it hurts him. But as much fun as this day has been so far, one great day cannot make up for what he’s done to me.

  The gates open and people start flooding into the stadium. When Greyson and I get to the opening of the gate there are security guards standing outside to check bags and purses. Once we’ve cleared that and the ticket taker beeps us through I have to take a moment to take everything in. There are so many people standing in front of about thirty concession stands. Kids with carts of pop, water, hot dogs, and pizza hanging from their necks yell out what they have to offer and at what price. Pictures of past players and trophy winners adorn the walls.

  “Do you want anything before we find out seats?”

  “Maybe a water,” I tell him. Within seconds he’s handing me one.

  “Let’s go,” he says.

  I follow behind him as he leads us out of the underbelly of the stadium and into the sunshine. I have to blink to adjust my eyes and when they do they widen. I’ve never been in a stadium before but I’ve seen them in pictures. Let me tell you, pictures do not do justice to how it feels to be in a stadium. It is so big. I feel like an ant in a swimming pool. I trip several times in my attempt to follow Greyson and also take it all in. The band, not just the drumline, but the whole band, stand on the edges of the turf around the field. Some twirl their drumsticks in their fingers. Some swing their tubas back and forth. One guy even flips his clarinet in the air like a baton twirler. My first thought is they must be bored. But then I look more closely and see anticipation on their faces and in their nervous jittering. I have no idea what I’m about to witness but the anticipation is growing in me as well.

  Greyson stops in front of me and I run into his back.

  “You alright?” he asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “Here we are,” he says, indicating a row of seats behind us.

  I look at the seat then gauge its proximity to the field. “How are we thi
s close?” I ask.

  Our seats are row three. Nearly kissing the middle of the field. Seriously. I’m not a sports fanatic but I have gone to a concert or two and I know how important being close is. I can only imagine it is the same with sports.

  Greyson chuckles and says, “My father is connected.”

  I’m sure he is. There is no way my dad could get us seats like this, but I’m not going to dwell on it, I love my dad, and besides I’m here to have a good time, not compare status.

  “Now,” Greyson says, turning to me. “We can talk if you want because we have an hour, but seeing as how this is your first game I want you to experience it all. One of those things happens to be watching the stadium fill up with people. It may sound boring, but I promise you it is anything but.”

  I nod my head in all seriousness and say, “Ok.”

  So I sit there, and watch people find their seats. Greyson was right, it really isn’t that boring. I watch as people check their tickets, look up to the section marker, then check their tickets again. I watch people count the rows then move down the aisle to their seats, only to have someone else come and tell the, they are in their seats. I watch people, arms loaded with food, carefully maneuver around people and seats only to spill their food once they try to sit down.

  Soon I hear an eruption of cheering and look to the field. The team, or at least some of the team runs onto the field. Blood rushes through my chest and a joy I didn’t expect blossoms. I feel like an idiot cheering along with the crowd but at the same time I can’t help myself. I look to Greyson to find a giant grin on his face.

  “What?” I ask, feeling my cheeks heat.

  “Nothing. Are you having fun?”

  I smile and nod my head.

  The time on the practice clock winds down. I watch the football players do their stretches and practice their drills. I don’t know who any of them are but I find myself thrilled to see them kick some ass.