Claire
It was Sunday afternoon,and I was walking, sandwiched between Isaac and Warner into the soccer stadium. When Seth had called on Thursday afternoon to let me know he’d done it, he’d gone out and forgot about everything he was supposed to be and just played with his heart, he’d been named on the bench. While it still wasn’t a starting jersey, it was one step closer to getting where he wanted to be. Where he deserved to be.
Then he’d asked me if I’d come to watch.
I’d frozen.
The last thing in the world I wanted to do was let him down, not after he’d put up with my tears the other night and held me until I stopped shaking, but being squished in a stadium with people everywhere, I wasn’t sure I was ready.
Thankfully, Seth had already thought of that and offered me as many tickets as it’d take to make me feel comfortable. I had a feeling that if I’d said I need a whole section to myself, he would’ve made it happen. It was who he was. I don’t think he actually knew any other way. Not that I’d want him to change a thing. I really liked who he was.
“This is insane,” I commented as we scanned our tickets and passed through the gates.
There were people everywhere. The music was pumping, there were jugglers and people walking on stilts. Kids were getting their faces painted, and the lines at the merchandise tents were insane.
“You want a scarf, don’t you?” Isaac teased as I eyeballed the family who looked like they were wearing the entire merchandise store. From the track pants to the t-shirts, baseball caps, scarves, and the flags they waved about.
“Maybe,” I replied, batting my eyelashes at him.
“Come on then.” Isaac threw his arm around my shoulders and started leading me through the crowd to join the queue.
While Isaac and Warner argued, I looked around. It was no wonder Seth wanted to be a part of this. It was intoxicating. The atmosphere was electric, and the whistle hadn’t even blown yet. Or the siren sounded. Or whatever happened in soccer. I had no idea. All I knew about the sport was you couldn’t touch it with your hands, and it was usually about as exciting as watching paint dry.
After I got my scarf and temporary tattoo, which Warner put on my cheek, we went and found our seats. They were damn good seats too. Close enough to the field that you could smell the grass but perhaps more important, from where I was sitting, I could see the players on the bench.
Fireworks, the beating of drums, and the appearance of a huge inflatable ball announced the players’ arrival. My heart raced and my palms sweat. It was strange. I thought I’d be more worried. I wasn’t. I was more worried about Seth. I was praying he got his chance to play, his hopes were up so high, I wasn’t sure how he’d cope spending the whole game watching on from the sidelines.
“You ready for this?” Warner asked, bumping his shoulder against mine.
“No.”
“What’ve you got to be nervous about? You’re not the one playing.”
He was right. I wasn’t the one out there, but I had a whole lot riding on it. Holding my breath, the whistle blew, and the game was underway.
I watched as Seth tried to look invested. Leaning forward. Bouncing to his feet when the ball got close to the nets. But when half-time arrived, Seth still hadn’t run out onto the field. He rose from his seat before turning to look at me, offering me a small wave before following his teammates down the tunnel and into the locker rooms.
“Dude, did you know soccer was so boring?” Warner asked Isaac.
I couldn’t hide my smirk. He wasn’t wrong. I had no idea what was going on, and the only thing keeping me interested was a certain player. And he was sitting on the bench.
“I know, if I wanted to watch a guy try and score for ninety minutes, I’d take you to the nearest bar,” Isaac threw back.
I snorted.
In public.
I snorted. Loudly.
It wasn’t so much what Isaac had said that had my sides hurting trying not to laugh, it was the look on Warner’s face that did me in.
The second half was almost as boring as the first. With the exception of the trip, a player being red-carded, and then the scuffle that broke out, nothing happened. No one scored. No one even looked like they were close to scoring. I was relieved when the whistle blew signalling the end of this torture until I looked over at Seth.
Poor guy looked like someone had kicked his puppy. He hadn’t made it out on the field and I knew how desperate he was to be out there. He was working his arse off trying to be the best and in his eyes, he was still failing. It was heartbreaking to see and I knew how disappointed he was going to be.
“You ready to get out of here?” Isaac asked, picking up our rubbish.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
