Breanna Michelle Santana

"Hello," my naturally deep voice was quite chipper as I answered the incoming phone call that morning.

I was moving fast around the kitchen as I tried to prepare breakfast for myself that consisted of two slices of toast, turkey bacon, and an omelette.

"Hi, is this Breanna Santana," the male's voice asked me.

"You wouldn't be asking if you didn't already know. Who's this," I wondered, my eyebrow raised with intrigue.

I stopped in my tracks with stood there, looking through the window above the stainless steel farmer's sink.

The man on the other end of the call let out a faint chuckle before speaking again,"I'm Paul. Paul Joseph, the athletic director at OCHS," he said.

My old high school, I quickly remembered in my head.

"I'm listening," I let Mr.Joseph go on.

"I was just calling to book your services tomorrow afternoon," he said, making me lose my attitude and smile brightly.

Wow, I thought, I've been back for two seconds and already landed a job! Looks like I really don't need Kaign and his connections after all.

"Um, sure, what time are we thinking," I wondered aloud, searching the junk drawer for a functioning pen or pencil.

Aha! I found one and scribbled it onto the notepad before me.

"Practice starts at three so, be here around that time to set up?" He suggested.

"Okay, great. Thanks!" I exclaimed in my professional voice.

Before he could go, though, I had a question for him.

"Yeah," he asked after I spoke his name.

I hesitated then questioned,"How'd you find me?"

He chuckled again before talking,"Someone recommended you."

We discussed more business details and eventually ended the call but I was left confused.

Who recommended me, I pondered the thought in my head. My shoulders shrugged. Well whoever it is, thank you...

======

Place both feet here. Press button.

I read the instructions on the dusty, black mat that was placed inches away from the double doors to the gymnasium part of the public  high school.

Adjusting my feet, I struggled to stand there as directed and press the button, but I managed.

BUZZ!

"Yes," went a muffled woman's voice.

My eyebrows furrowed at the way she spoke.

"Uh, hi," I spoke dryly,"I'm the photographer for the-" and couldn't finish my sentence before there was a "click" sound and the doors unlocked.

"Thanks," I grumbled and showed myself inside.

Memories hit me like a truck. I remembered all the fights I witnessed, all the games where I lost my voice cheering for my friends, all the pictures of took of kids and their cliques.

"I haven't been here in ages," I exhaled, walking down the empty hall.

RING! A loud bell went off and I could hear classroom doors fly open so hard they hit the white tile/brick walls.

Curious, I looked down to see the time on my Daniel Wellington watch.

2:43 PM

I pursed my lips and looked around for the AD's office.

The plaque on the wooden door read:

Paul Joseph
Athletic Director

It was him, the man who called me with the opportunity. 

I knocked but didn't get an answer and the door was locked. Convenient.

Bored and unsure what to do next, I stepped towards the bulletin board on the opposite wall in the hallway and observed all the news clippings from sports articles about the school's players - their rankings, endings scores, and impressive player stats.

"Nice camera," some random boy said to me.

I looked at him then down at my camera. "Thanks," I said,"nice cleats."

He went "pfft" at his beat up soccer shoes and then flashed me a smile. "You play," he asked.

My head shook,"No, girls soccer was never my thing," I answered honestly.

"And photography is?"

I nodded, smiling,"It pays the bills."

He pushed his long, dirty blonde loose curls out of his face and I got a good look at him.

Hmm. My mind started to wander.

It wasn't until the boy turned around and revealed the last name on the back of his white jersey that I was almost positive of who I thought he could be. And that thought scared me.

Gulping, I started to say something and was interrupted by the intimidating holler of who I took to be the boys coach. He went straight into his office without taking another look. All of the boys scattered and raced to the back door that led to the stadium for outdoor sports - soccer, lacrosse, field hockey, and football.

The boy shot me a look like he was over his coach's shit already and it was a face that looked awfully familiar.

"What's wrong," he asked me.

"Your face," I gave a short answer that made him look at me like I was on crack.

I went to clarify,"You just look like someone I used to know is all." It sounded silly out loud. The world was small but not that small, I thought.

"I see you met my little brother," a gruff voice effused.

I didn't want to look, my back was turned to the man.

"Hey, Gray," the soccer playing high schooler greeted his older brother and coach.

"Of course," I murmured through gritted teeth.

I slowly turned and saw exactly who I didn't want to see.

"Hello, Grayson," his name was hard for me to spit out.

He stood over me and smiled like he was entranced.

"Hey, Brea," he said back and continued smiling like an idiot.

I kept looking away, breaking eye contact, until his little brother spoke up.

"Oh, this is the girl you were talking about?" He wondered.

"You talked about me?" I folded my arms and raised a brow with a devilish smirk on my face.

Grayson shoved his hands into the pockets of his grey Adidas sweatpants and admitted,"Okay, maybe I heard you were coming and might've asked them to hire you."

"And here I am thinking I was picked because of my talent," I coughed sarcastically.

"That too," Grayson laughed.

I stopped laughing to ask,"You heard about me coming back?"

"Yeah, your dad and I are working on a project together," Grayson let me know.

"Huh. He never mentioned it," I said.

The little brother cleared his throat and waited to be properly introduced.

"Oh," Grayson chuckled,"this is Colson.

"Hey Colson," I went for a handshake which he pushed away for a hug.

"Colson, this is Brea. Now go outside with the team, I'll be out in a minute," Grayson demanded sternly.

"So you're still into soccer? I thought you'd be pro by now," I made small talk once it was just us two in the hallway.

"I ruptured my Achilles in the first round of finals - thought I was good to play and made it worse. You know how it goes," he confided in me. I was sad to hear that but didn't know what to say in return.

"How's Kaign?" Gray was always good at changing the subject.

"Who?" I asked as if I didn't know who he was referring to.

He pointed to the ring I still wore on my finger and I "remembered".

"Oh, Kaign! He's great, we're great," I lied stupidly. Cue mental face palm.

"That's good," Grayson said kindly which was unexpected if I'm being honest.

"No smart remark?" I was shook.

"Nope," he said all too easily.

"Hm," I sounded and looked away awkwardly.

A second goes by where we said nothing. I was just so... speechless! There he was, my old crush, in the flesh, still looking good as ever. I eyed him up and down until he almost caught me. I cleared my throat and then found myself staring again.
It was unreal to see him again. He was all grown now but almost the exactly the same - still intimidating, the same husky voice, sexy.

Okay, maybe it IS a small world, I corrected the note I made in my head.

======

"Thank you," a little girl said to me after I let her see her portraits.

"No problem," I smiled and put the camera away once she ran off to join the rest of the field hockey players on the practice field.

At long last, my work was over. I packed everything away except the camera that hung around my neck.

The sun was setting beyond the soccer field and the lights came on, beaming down on the varsity players.

My knees cracked as I stood and peered out at them, watching as their coaches worked them to death.

CLICK!

I pulled back to observe the photo I'd taken of the boys.

"I thought I'd find you up here," Grayson's voice startled me.

I put my elbows on the cold fence and cut my eyes at him.

"Stalker," I laughed briefly.

"Remember the pictures you'd take of me at my games? They were my best ones," he told me.

"They were my favorites," I said and didn't realize. I quickly went to correct myself so he wouldn't get the wrong idea,"A-at the time. They were my favorites at the time."

He looked at me and smirked, making me blush.

"Ugh," I pushed off of the fence and took and walked to the top of the bleachers with Coach Jansen following closely behind.

Taking a seat, I exhaled and let my head hit the wall.

"How long are you staying," asked Grayson.

I opened my eyes and turned my neck slightly to look at him and respond,"Depends. Don't tell my dad that, though, he thinks I'm here for good."

"You're not?"

I shrugged. "Depends," I repeated with emphasis.

"On?"

"Well, this city isn't big enough for both of our egos," I joked, nudging his arm.

Grayson let out a small laugh and hung his head. He sat with his legs spread apart and hands in his pockets. When he looked back up, he licked his lips and I had to look away - he looked so good, it took me back to college when I was thirsty for him.

I tucked the hair behind my right ear and swallowed hard.

"Thanks for recommending me, by the way," I expressed, standing with my hand out for him to shake but he looked at it like I was dirty before he ignored it to give me a tight squeeze, my head buried in his hard, chiseled chest.

He smelled SO good, I could've melted right there in his very arms. I had to find my way out before anything else could happen.

"Whew, okay," I collected myself,"I gotta go. Thanks, again. Bye."

I almost got away swiftly. BUT I JUST HAD TO TRIP AND NEARLY BUST MY ASS GOING DOWN THOSE GODDAMN BLEACHERS.

I couldn't even mad mad, I laughed at my own clumsiness and took a second to stand and gather myself.

Grayson came to my rescue. He took my hand and helped me to my feet.

"Thank you," I said again, flipping the hair from my face.

"Brea," he said lowly.

"Yeah?" I cooed with wide, hopeful eyes, thinking he was about to say something romantic.

Nope.

"Slow down," he insisted, firmly holding my hand, as he looked deep into my eyes.

"Yes, sir," I responded quickly without thinking. Face-palming myself, I said,"I mean — okay, Gray." With that, I took my hand back and carefully made my way down the bleachers to leave.

"Stupid, stupid girl," I fussed with myself under my breath as I paced to my car, feeling embarrassed.