* * *
1
Sometimes I wondered why I bothered doing what I did. When I went into college I was bright-eyed and filled with enthusiasm. I wanted to do everything I possibly could and threw myself into the life, or so I thought. I'd never been that good at making friends. I realized in college that I was harder than I thought. I'd never been without friends, but when I was younger it just seemed so much easier. Friendships were based on matching color of socks or if you liked the same sweets, but as I grew older I began to see that friendships were difficult to begin. How do you go up to someone and just say, 'I like you and I want to spend more time with you,' without it being weird? Maybe people who are less socially awkward could pull it off, but for a bookish 21 year old who tends to live in her own world there's no chance.
I never thought I'd say it but I kinda missed high school. Not that I particularly enjoyed my time there but at least I knew my place and I was comfortable in the social structure, and I had my few friends. They're across the country now. When I left for college we promised that we'd make the effort to see each other as often as possible but our relationship quickly devolved into empty promises on Facebook, and liking their pictures just to pretend that we still cared. It was sad to see how quickly things could change, and I wished that I could make new friends but it wasn't so easy. I tried, believe me, and maybe that was part of the problem. For others things seemed to be effortless and sometimes it was difficult to walk through campus and see everyone else having fun. All I wanted was to be a part of it and I just didn't know how.
I'd also always been told that it was good to have extra-curricular activities on a resume so I joined as many clubs as I could. Most of them only lasted a few days. Turns out I wasn't very good at kayaking, rock climbing, slam poetry, or Taekwondo and by the time I'd been buzzing across campus to do all these different things everyone else had fallen into friendship groups, and sure there were people I was friendly with but that was different, and most of the time I felt alone. I buried myself in my homework. Thankfully studying English Literature gave me a lot of homework, and I could always say that reading a book was as much a part of research for my major as well as a leisure activity. I still wasn't sure what I wanted to do as a career, and I think part of that was the reason why I tried so many clubs because I wanted to discover my passion and my talents. Unfortunately I don't think anyone can make a career from sitting in the pajamas flanked with a hot chocolate and a pile of books.
I can dream through.
The only thing that gave me respite aside from reading was being involved in the college newspaper, and even then I wouldn't exactly call it fun. It was more like having a job but not actually being paid. Still, I knew it would benefit me to keep at it and I did enjoy it. Plus it gave me a little bit a human interaction. The editor was a girl named Jennifer and I would never have pegged her as being interested in journalism, what with her bleach blonde hair and perfect posture, always dressed stylishly, which made me feel stupid when I turned up in an old crinkled t-shirt. Anyway, there were a few of us involved and it was a good group. We'd hung out outside of the paper a few times but it had never really stuck, and since the office was just a small disused room you couldn't fit many people in there, so the reporters mostly did their work elsewhere. I focused on book reviews and some focus pieces, which was good to build a portfolio but I still wasn't sure that I wanted to go into journalism as a career.
I was working in the library when Jennifer came up to me. It was always fun to see her walk through a room as heads turned. I often wondered what it was like to have that much attention all the time, but she seemed to love it. I think I'd just feel weird to have so many people staring at me, not even knowing anything about me other than the fact that genetics meant I was blessed with a good bone structure. No, I much preferred being in the shadows and on the sidelines, just happy living my own life and keeping things as simple as possible.
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.