Page 17 of Escape Velocity
He curses Jenna for her tough love, but deep down he appreciates it. It pushes him to do better.
She promised to go to another game if he ended up having to come to another one.
He observes the crowd. He puts a hand over his eyes to block the blinding fluorescent light from the stands. He tries to see if anyone is specifically cheering on Callum.
He sees a poster saying “Turn that Brown upside down.”
He snorts. He sees another saying “Brown of Glory,” and he laughs.
People are creative, he has to give them that. It almost makes him feel giddy to see so much support for someone. There used to be a time when he felt that way about Callum.
It tugs at something inside him, something deep and covered in dust, like an untouched book from one of the shelves of the library.
Mason used to think the football field made the players seem untouchable, like they were players on a screen and followed some kind of script instead of playing an actual game. But now, he understands that it’s all a part of the game.
It’s fun to belong with the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen… the home opening game of the season for the Hornets!” a booming male voice announces over the speakers. Everyone suddenly gets out of their seats, stands up, and starts cheering.
Cheerleaders are jumping and cheering on the sidelines as crewmen line up and put a poster of the Hornets team in front of the locker room entrance. The football team pummels through the picture, tearing through it seamlessly.
Mason thought movies and TV shows that showed football games were mere exaggerations, but it’s reality. The cheerleaders, the screaming fans, and the grand entrances. It really is larger than life.
Even Mason is buzzing with excitement. He feels like he is a part of something bigger by just watching.
Profiles of each player pop up on the screen, their stats and player numbers appearing beside their serious and neutral faces.
Finally, Callum’s pops up. Quarterback. Number four.
His piercing brown eyes make Mason’s skin prickle with anticipation. Like he’s about to square off with Callum.
Mason scans the field for a four and he sees it. They all have their helmets on, but Mason can tell Callum by the way he walks with conviction, like he knows exactly where he wants to go and what his next move is, like he’s playing chess.
Growing up, everyone underestimated Callum’s ability to plan and execute effectively. He was always ten steps ahead of everyone else. That’s why he’s quarterback now.
Mason shakes his head, forgetting that he’s somehow complimenting Callum in his head, but he chalks it up to the uproar of the crowd and their cheers for him.
He’s being mind tricked into it.
Callum stalks over to the sidelines and waves at the crowd like he’s a celebrity.
Technically, he is. The signs and fanfare prove it.
He takes off his helmet quickly to get a better lookat the crowd. It’s his first at-home game of the college season after all, and he’s already amassed a large fanbase in his freshman year before Mason arrived.
He scans the crowd, his eyes quickly skirting over Mason. His eyes go past Mason, but then magnetically find their way back to Mason’s.
His jaw slackens slightly and his winning smile falters ever so slightly with his parted lips.
Somehow, Callum looks like he’s two feet shorter and looks like the same boy that shared his PB&J sandwiches with Mason at lunch.
The pomp and poise are gone, and it’s just them staring at each other, like they used to when they were younger. Before they turned into different people.
Callum blinks rapidly and then continues to scan the crowd, his smile reappearing on his face like it never fell.
Mason feels some kind of emptiness as Callum’s eyes lose his. When their eyes met, he felt like he was transported back in time.
A time when things weren’t so difficult and heavy. When he felt like he could rely on someone to defend him.
