PART TWO | THE MAIN TEAM

People tend to assume something. And it tends to go wrong.

It has been a week since I met Jeremy Harrington at the gymnasium. I expected to meet him in the field afterward, but he was never seen. I was not paying attention to the football team before. I started to doubt that he was playing for the team now.

We never met in the hallway nor the cafeteria at lunch break as well. I often saw the football team hung around in the middle of the cafeteria. Shouting and bickering as the usual jocks did in movies. But he was never around. I wondered where he was all the time. Probably, the sprained ankle turned out to be more serious than I thought.

I thought that he'd take advantage of me that time when we first met. He couldn't walk properly with a sprained ankle. Most importantly, he couldn't drive his car safely to go home. So, he asked me if he could borrow my phone to call Lux, his friend. I hesitated for a while. Thinking about the possibility that it was just a trick to get my number, as the other boy did to me these past few weeks. But, seeing him in real pain made me gave my phone to him, letting him called Lux.

It turns out I was wrong. I never receive any messages from him. Not that I am expecting it too, honestly. But I have to admit that I am pretty thrilled seeing his face on the front page of our school's magazine this noon. At least, he does exist in this world. He wears the red football uniform with his right hand holding a helmet. The photographer is successfully captured his smile after a big win last season. His face glows from the perspiration adding more delicacy to his feature. Jeremy Harrington: Gearing Up for The Next Season is written in a big bold letter above his wide shoulder.

I realize that I am not the only one who holds the glossy paper with his face on it. Looking around me, every girl in the cafeteria seems to be engaged in a heated conversation about how hot he is in a tight red uniform. Or how mesmerizing his brown eyes when he smiles. Or how toned his arms beneath the red fabric. They are all true, he looks striking and imposing.

"What is it about this boy?" I ask Julia beside me. She lifts her head from her meal, a half-eaten apple, which is the only portion she allows herself to eat during the lunch break. Her diet program is pretty tight, unnecessary for her already ideal form in my opinion.

Julia looks at the magazine in front of me, slipping her red-painted hair behind her ear. "This boy?" She glares at me, showing an expression as if I am a retarded person. "You don't talk like that. He's on the varsity team. The best that this school could have as a quarterback in the century."

"Seniors are attractive," Candice, my other friend, who just get back with a tray full of food joins the conversation. Julia sneers at her, agreeing with her opinion.

"Don't let them fool you," Miko finally opens her mouth. "His appearance may appear so perfect. But you should hear the story behind those striking toned arms."

She leans her head forward to me across the table. Candice and Julia mimicking the gesture so the four of us make a tiny circle around the table. I cannot help but lean forward a bit, ready to hear her out. "Rumor has it his past lover died last year," Miko whispers. We are blanketed with silence.

I straighten back on my seat. Rubbing the nape of my neck with my hand. Candice is the first to respond with words. "Where did you get such information?"

Miko shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. "People are talking," she says.

"Maybe that's why he appears to be cold and mysterious," Julia replies. "Look. Nowhere to be found." She looks at the center of the cafeteria where the seniors are lounging. She realizes it too. Following her gaze, I recognize many faces from the football and cheerleading team, one of them is Gwen, the cheerleading captain.

Gwen waves her hand toward me when she catches my eyes from afar. I wave back, smiling right at her. The kind gesture is something that makes her different from the rest of the seniors. She is way too humble with us, the freshmen.

"The announcement is today," Julia says from beside me. Tearing my gaze from Gwen, I focus on Julia.

I lift my eyebrows. "What?" I say.

"You know," Julia says. "Who's gonna be in the main team. The list is out today."

I let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know, Julia... do you think we can make it to the main team?"

"Tara, I'm positive about that. We've been very good in practice, also off practice. Socializing with Gwen and her friends is a key to be on the list."

I know that Julia is true. We've been practicing hard to be on the main cheerleading team. She is the one who brave enough to start a conversation with the senior members: Gwen and her friends. As long as we're not getting in trouble with them, we're completely safe. Still, I am so pessimistic about the announcement. Who knows that the other girls try harder?

After finishing our lunch, Julia and I stick together until the last period. We have cheerleading practice after school. So, when the bell blasting we hurry to the changing room at the gymnasium. We are screaming and hugging each other when we see the announcement board. Our name is listed to be in the main team alongside seniors and sophomores.

"Congratulations," Gwen says from behind us. She smiles so wide so we can see a slight wrinkle on the edge of her eyes. "That means you two should be prepared for the next season. It's next week."

I cannot hide my excitement, smiling nonstop. "Thank you, Gwen. You know we'll practice harder."

Gwen hands us two red shirts. We take it like it is a fragile baby. We'll be wearing the red shirt now! The shirt that I desperately want since I join the cheerleading team. The main team's shirt. I look at Julia's face which is not too far from my expression. I can see her eyes become a bit watery, or is it just the light? I don't know, but I am sure we both are very happy about this because after that we wear the shirt proudly.

By the time we arrive on the football field, it is already occupied with several people from the cheerleading and the football team. Today is our first day joining the main team to practice in the field. Usually, the freshmen have separate practices inside the gymnasium. The thought itself makes my stomach churns from excitement and nervousness.

"Hi, pretty, what's your name?" One of the jocks greets me as I walk into the field.

Then he receives a whack in the head from his friend. "Lux, you already knew her name." Oh, I knew that name.

Lux throws a light punch on his shoulder and shushes him. "I was trying to look cool in front of her, Clayton."

Clayton rolls his eyes and shifts his gaze from his friend to me. "Sorry for the lame way of introduction, Tara-Jane. I'm Clayton Adams." He reaches my hand for a handshake which startles me. But I have no time to refuse because he is already speaking again. "Since you're on the team, we'd love to invite you and your friend to a party tonight."

He gives me a confident smile at the end. It seems he is the kind that never receives a rejection before. "Thank you for inviting us. Julia would love to come, of course, but I doubt that I am the party kind."

Clayton chuckles and then Lux follows. "We hope that you can come, too, Honey," Lux says. I cringe at the word Honey but I try my best to cover it. This boy constantly throwing me a flirtatious comeback. I wonder if he knows that he already had my number since Jeremy Harrington calls him with my phone. But, by the way, how he is acting now I guess he doesn't know yet.

I don't have a chance to reply to Lux because my eyes catch a familiar figure from afar. Jeremy Harrington saunters idly to the entrance of the field. I hold my breath when his eyes meet mine. It is merely a split of seconds but it feels like hours. He glances away and so do I.

Clayton and Lux see him too. With that, like a five-year-old seeing their parent comes from work, they run toward Jeremy Harrington. I hear Lux says, "Welcome back, my brother!" So, it's probably his first time to practice again after the sprained ankle accident.

Now that I can see him in the daylight, I am sure not seeing a ghost. The sunray makes his brown hair looks lighter than before. And his face seems normal, as in not redden from the pain. He walks properly, no limping like the first time I met him.

Gwen calls my name, making me detach my eyes from the quarterback. I need a couple of seconds to process that she wants me to head over her. "Get yourself together, Tara-Jane," I mutter to myself.

The practice goes normal but not as usual for me. I cannot help myself from glancing in the football team direction. They are several feet apart from where I stand but I can see them. I can see Jeremy Harrington clearly, I correct. It is a total distraction, I need to focus.

So, I head to the bench, grabbing my water bottle. The water gliding down my throat as I hear someone is approaching me from behind. I turn around to see who is coming with me to the bench. Then my eyes meet the distraction I've been dying to get rid of. I almost choke on the water. Fortunately, I can handle the situation pretty well, lowering the bottle fast enough before I choke in embarrassment.

Jeremy Harrington stops right in front of me, bending slightly to place his hands on both of his knees. It seems he is running to the bench. His breathing is erratic and his head looks down to the grass below. Then he looks up, "Can I have a water, please?"

Sweat trickles down from his forehead to the side of his face. It is not just on his face, but his body is sweaty as well. I can say that because his shirt is wet here and there. I am too confused to comprehend what he is saying. So, I just say, "Sorry?"

"May I have your water, please?" He repeats, trying so hard to speak between his unstable breathing. He slowly stands straight again. His eyes glance down to the bottle in my hand. I follow his gaze but before I can form a word of permission his hand already reaches forward. He doesn't snatch the bottle from my hands, it happens very smoothly as if my hands completely giving up to hold the bottle. He takes the bottle and tilts up his head so the bottle doesn't touch his lips as he drinks.

It happens pretty quickly but I see it in slow motion. His eyes flutter close as the water touches his tongue. Before I realize it, he is already handing me back the bottle. Jeremy gives me a mischievous smirk and says, "Thank you, Tara-Jane." Then he jogs to the field without looking back.

I look around to see if someone noticing our encounter. I sigh in relief, no one paying attention to the bench. It is quite embarrassing if someone sees me just standing there speechless while Jeremy asks for a drink. Now, it is my cheeks that turning crimson.