She sauntered over to me and sat down opposite me, craning her neck to see what I was writing. I put my pen down and looked at her.
“I never understood why you're here so much, it's so boring,” she said in a voice that was a little louder than a whisper, breaking the sacred rules of the library. Some people shot her annoyed glances but nobody said anything. I cringed, and when I spoke I whispered, trying to show her how things were done there but she didn't care and carried on in her own manner.
“It's peaceful and it helps me clear my head.”
“I thought you might be coming here because there were some cute guys but I see I was mistaken,” she said, looking round, evidently disappointed at the gallery of men offered to her. I scowled, not because I was annoyed at her for invading my sanctuary but because she was right. Part of the reason why I went to the library so often was because I had a fantasy that one day I'd be sitting there and a cute guy would sit down next to me. He'd be reading something classy and classic, or perhaps he'd even be writing his own story. He'd look at me and smile, then scribble something on the page and I'd wonder if he was writing about me. I always liked the idea of being a muse. But that never happened. Sometimes cute guys did come in. Sometimes they even sat near me, but nothing ever happened. It was starting to get annoying to be honest. People were supposed to get laid all the time in college, at least that was the perception, but I was still waiting.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I just came because I have a new assignment for you.”
“Another one? I still have some research to go on the piece I'm writing at the moment.”
“Yeah, I'm afraid this is going to have to wait. We have an emergency. Ricky's sick, and the game is tonight. I asked everyone else but they already have plans. You're my only hope.”
I rolled my eyes and I couldn't get mad at the insult because it was true. My social calender was perennially free. I wasn't impressed though. I'd never had much time for sports. Seemed like a pointless activity to me. Why get so involved in a bunch of other people doing some activity? I sighed and leaned back in my chair.
“Are you sure there's nobody else? I do have a lot of work to do,” I said, but I could see in Jennifer's eyes that she didn't believe me. I'd never been much good a lying.
“It's just this one game. All you have to do is go there and watch and report. Make a few notes, write it up, imbue it with that sense of school passion and you're good. It's only this one game until Ricky's back then you can get back to what you usually do.”
She asked it as a favor but it sounded like an order to me, and my problem is that I always found it difficult to say no to people even when I didn't want to do it, so I agreed.
“Thanks! You'll be fine. This will be good for you as well. I think you could use a change of scenery, and some sun,” she said, and then my friend left me to it.
**
When I arrived at the stadium I was shocked by the noise and the loutish behavior. Everyone was shouting and hollering at each other. People with painted faces were screaming, and the whole place was a sea of red and white, which were the schools' colors. I flashed the badge Jennifer had given me and made my way to the press box, where I took my seat and waited for the game to begin. I had brought a book with me to help pass the time but with the cacophony of noise all around me I was unable to concentrate and just had to give up. The field was a lush green, and it wasn't long before music pounded out of the speakers and the cheerleaders ran out with their pom poms, flipping and somersaulting all over the place, the crowd cheering them on. I had to admit that it was impressive, even if I didn't have much time to spare for most of the cheerleaders. That was another group that I'd tried out for, but they basically laughed me away.
They weren't the stars of the show though, and I had enough awareness about me to know that there were two players in particular that people adored. Donny and Mick were a double team, and I'd seen their faces plastered all over campus. I didn't know much about their story but apparently they were the star performers and that meant they were basically royalty. I overheard people behind me debating who was going to score the most points out of the two of them. The result seemed to be beyond question, and the only unknown factor was how decisive the result would be. When the teams were announced people rose from their seats and cheered, which only grew louder as the teams ran on the field. I have to admit that my heart raced and goosebumps prickled on my skin. To be fully submerged in that kind of atmosphere was intense and unlike anything I had experienced before. As the game went on I had my pen ready to take notes, but I also found myself looking around at the crowd, and I was quite taken with what I saw. They seemed to live every action on the field. They clapped and applauded when things were going well, they winced with every crunching tackle, and roared in moments of passion. They seemed to be of a singular mind and chanted together, and the energy was palpable, and I soon realized why people loved sports so much. It inspired passion in a way that few other things in the modern world did. Whenever Donny or Mick got the ball the crowd sensed that something special was going to happen, and it usually did. The two of them seemed to share a telepathic understanding. Before one had even moved the other knew where he was going to end up, and they were soon racking up the points and the mood in the crowd was joyous. Even I found myself yelling as another touchdown was scored, although I felt sheepish afterwards.
When the game was over I realized that I'd been so caught up in what happened I hadn't taken any notes since the beginning of the game, and cursed myself. I made my way outside and shuffled along with the rest of the crowd, who were singing and chanting and hugging. I'd always had the perception that sports fans were aggressive and tribal, but being a part of it made me see that they were just enjoying themselves, and didn't mean any harm. I had intended to return home and write, but before I left I was accosted by a guy who was inviting everyone to a party, his claim to fame being that Donny and Mick would be there. He wouldn't let me leave until I promised him that I would go, and he typed the details into my phone, then he went off to tell other people about it.
It felt nice being involved, although as the crowd around me began to dissipate I started to feel that sense of loneliness again, which was only exacerbated by seeing the cheerleaders flirting with the players, most of them flocking around Donny and Mick. I knew that it was a world I would never be a part of, and it made me sad, because my life was so empty.
2
When I went back home I laid in my bed and replayed the game, jotting down notes as much as I could to make up for my lack of attention, but my thoughts continued to drift to Donny and Mick. There was something about them that was ethereal and unique. I don't know if it was just because everyone else had placed them on a pedestal that they seemed to glow, but they stood out from the rest of the crowd. I had never seen them in person before, only seen pictures and posters of them around campus. They were like celebrities around the school and now, after seeing them in action, I had a better understanding of why. They held the power to transform people's emotions and their talent on the football field was evident. Even I as a layperson could tell that they had something the other players did not, and rumors of them being scouted by NFL teams were not unfounded. I began to write the report but it turned into me waxing lyrical about the two of them, so I stopped and decided to leave it until later, when I could recall more of the match. Then my phone rang. It was Jennifer.
“So how was it?” she asked.
“Actually it was okay, better than I expected. I don't think I'd want to do it regularly though but it was interesting to experience something new. I even got excited to a party.”
“Oh really? You should totally go! It'd be good to have an insider at a party to get all the gossip.”
“I'm not going to a party just to be your mole. Anyway, it's not like I'm going to go. I wouldn't know anyone there. And parties aren't really my thing.”
“Have you actually ever been to one the whole time you
've been here?”
“Of course I have!” I think, I wasn't really sure to be honest. I knew I'd at least been invited to some and if I had gone to any I wouldn't have stayed for very long.
“Mmhmm,” Jennifer didn't sound convinced, “Well if you want my opinion then you should definitely go, it's not good for you to have your head in books all the time. The real world is where inspiration lies and if you want to be a writer that's where you're going to have to live.”
I knew she was right. I still wasn't sure if I actually wanted to pursue writing as a career but my stories had been lacking some punch recently, and although I had a lot of ideas I hadn't been able to develop them fully. I ended the call and wrestled with myself about whether to go or not, and as the hours passed I flip-flopped between the two possibilities. My mind was alive with all the potential outcomes, most of which were negative and ended with me being either humiliated or just reminded of why I never went out in the first place, but I told myself that being around people was a good way to research behavior for stories. I rummaged around my closet and managed to find something reasonable to wear hidden in the back, which must have been a gift as I didn't remember ever buying it. I had a wash and applied a light touch of makeup on my face, then I left for the party.
As I approached I felt anxious. I had no idea who invited me, and was worried that people would see me as an intruder. I almost turned back, but I kept telling myself to keep going, and soon enough I was at the door. I knocked but there was no response. I heard music and figured that it was blocking out the noise, so I tried the handle and the door opened. The place was dark and crammed with people, who were all in the middle of conversations. Some of them were dancing to the music. Everyone had a drink in their hand. I nodded to a few people but they didn't pay any attention to me. It seemed like anyone could walk in, but I still didn't feel like I belonged. I made my way through the house and to calm myself I thought of different ideas, like an article about the party culture at the college.
Someone knocked into me and spilled their drink on my dress. He slurred an apology then moved away. I saw some faces I recognized but nobody that I felt comfortable enough to go and talk to. I found my way to the kitchen, and someone offered me a drink. I took it and tasted it, but it made me gag. I didn't know how anyone could guzzle down that stuff all night. I stayed hemmed in the corner, people moving in front of me. Soon I was deafened by the chants that had been heard at the game, yet now seemed out of place. Then I was met with the icy stare of Astrid, the head cheerleader.
“Didn't know you'd started coming to parties? Thinking about trying out for the cheer squad again?” she said, then laughed, joined by her cronies who all tittered by her side.” Hope you're a bit more graceful than last time, and more flexible. We like people who can actually touch their toes.”
I scowled and tried to think of a witty retort but I wasn't in my element and my mind was distracted by all the noise. There were people all around me and I couldn't escape.
“What are you even doing here? You're not one of us, maybe we should try and make an example of you,” she said, with a wicked glint in her eye. They seemed to move around me threateningly ready to strike, and I didn't know what to say.
“I invited her,” deep voice said, “I thought it would be nice to have a member of the press here to show how respectable we are even when we're enjoying ourselves,” he said. I looked up at the towering hulk that was Donny. Muscles stretched his shirt and he was even more impressive this close in the flesh than he was in the distance on the football field. He tugged at my arm and pulled me away, all the while Astrid shot daggers at me. He led me through the kitchen to outside, which was mostly empty. The air was cool and I was intoxicated by his presence.
“Thanks for that,” I said, still slightly puzzled by why he helped me.
“No worries, you've gotta watch out for Astrid, she's a mean one.”
“You can say that again. I didn't know you knew who I was though.”
“I don't really, but I did see you today. Usually Ricky is there but you're an improvement on him. I'm Donny,” he said with an easy smile and a warm handshake. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as our skin met.
“I think everyone on campus knows who you are,” I said, “I'm Mindy.”
“That's a pretty name. I've never seen you at one of these parties before.”
“I mostly keep to myself.”
“Are you having a good time?”
“It's getting better,” I said, smiling shyly. His eyes twinkled and all the regrets faded away. I never thought I went for the macho type of man but there was something about him that spoke to me, and it was impossible not to be attracted to him. He was about to say something else when someone called him from the kitchen, then everyone else did, a thousand voices all acting as one. He looked at me apologetically.
“I'll come and find you later Mindy,” he said. I liked the way his name sounded on his lips.
I was left outside. The air was warm. I didn't much feel like going back inside as I didn't want to run into Astrid again, so I looked around the garden. The pool was lit up in the middle and on the other side I saw a figure standing by himself. As I looked closer I could see that it was Mick, and I wondered why he was alone. Since nobody else was outside I walked over to him and coughed to announce my presence. He turned, and smiled at me.
“Beautiful night,” he said. I agreed. He asked me my name. I told him. He didn't offer me his, assuming that I already knew. He drew in a deep breath and raised his arms over his head, gazing down into the bright blue water. I followed his gaze.
“What are you looking at?”
“I was just thinking about how perfect the surface is, how calm it is, but the moment we jump in its all chaos. I'm also thinking that I may be a little drunk.”
“Maybe. You earned it though, you played well today.”
“Thanks, you were at the game?”
“Yeah, I was reporting on it. Ricky is sick.”
“Oh yeah, what did you think?”
“It was fun I guess, sports aren't really my thing.”
“What is?”
“I like reading, and writing.”
“I don't have the patience to read a book. I get distracted too easily. I always need to be doing something.”
“Why aren't you inside with the others?” I said. I could have ranted at him for not enjoying reading as I always hated it when people said they didn't have patience to read. Reading is one of the fundamental aspects of human existence! But my mind was cast into a haze by the beauty of his sculpted body, and I didn't think I could form logical arguments.
Mick shrugged. “I'll go in later. Parties are fine but I like to mix it up. The night is still young, and I'd rather be outside right now. You feel like going for a swim?”
“I don't have a costume,” I said, self-conscious of my body anyway, and I didn't want to let all my imperfections show against his surely flawless physique. He only offered a mischievous smile in response and whipped off his clothes. I don't understand how he did it so fast but before I knew it he was standing there in his boxers.
It was hard not to let my eyes drop to his perfectly toned physique, the rippling muscles, the powerful thighs, his wavy blonde hair slipping over one side of his face. I was shocked. Never had I been in this type of situation before, and I felt my arms wrap around my body in fear and shame. My throat ran dry and I shrank in front of him.
“Is something wrong?” he asked. He had an immaculate smile and I wondered how many girls would have traded everything they had to trade places with me. All I needed to do was jump in but I was frozen to the spot.
“I've just never done anything like this before,” I mumbled.
“It's okay, it's just fun. Really when you think about it there's no difference between a bikini and a bra. You might even like it. And if you don't you can always jump out again. You can swim, right?”
I nodded, and there was something about him that
made me feel adventurous. I wanted to be the kind of girl that he found attractive, and I didn't want this party to be a waste of time. I'd probably never even see him again after this night so what was the harm in having a little bit of a laugh?
“Okay, but you have to turn around,” I said, and made sure that nobody else was watching as I peeled away my dress and stepped out of it. I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around, looking at me as though I was beautiful. It must have been the darkness of the night clouding his sight. He smiled, and then fell back, making a big splash as the water enveloped his body. He shook his head and laughed heartily, beckoning me in. I dipped my toe in. The water was warm, but I was still reticent to take the plunge. Mick cajoled me and began to dance in the water, then said he was going to hold his breath under water until I jumped in! I urged him not to but soon all I saw was the blurred shape of his body underneath the surface. I chewed my lip, not believing that he would actually go through with it, but he didn't come up and I was left with no choice but to dive in.
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