What We May Be
The entire homecoming week, of course, was meant to lead up to the football game that Saturday afternoon. All current students and alumni were granted free admission, so even though we didn’t know a thing about football, the three of us girls decided to go.
Truthfully, the biggest reason I wanted to go was to see Zac play in the band during the half-time show. I knew he had been too shy and self-conscious to ask me to go to any of the other games, and I would have been charged admission for most of those, anyway. Homecoming seemed like the perfect time to support him and cheer him on from the stands, even if he couldn’t see and didn’t know I was there.
I still didn’t know what Zac and I were. I was too afraid of ruining what we had just begun building back up to ask questions like that. We weren’t going to homecoming together, and I was reasonably sure that we also weren’t dating. But we weren’t just friends. At least, I didn’t think so. I was slowly beginning to admit that what I felt for him wasn’t just friendly, and I didn’t think that his feelings for me were either, especially if his song was anything to go by.
After we had shown our student IDs at the gate and made our way into the stadium, Justine turned to Whitley and asked, “Is Taylor coming to the game, too?”
“No, he’s busy getting ready for the dance. You know how he is; it will take him longer to get ready than all three of us combined,” Whitley replied.
The band had their own special section of the bleachers that was even roped off his streamers in our school colors. We managed to find empty seats very close to it, and no words needed to be exchanged; all three of of us immediately knew that we had found the perfect spot to cheer Zac on.
For several minutes, the three of us weren’t really able to exchange any words. The loudspeakers pumped out a stream of horrible pop music meant to pep the crowd up, but all it did was drown out our thoughts. I didn’t mind having my thoughts quieted for once, though. When the music ended, the silence that followed was almost more deafening. We all glanced around, waiting for something to happen. The tension and excitement in the crowd was almost a tangible thing.
From somewhere in the distance, a drum beat began to sound, growing louder and closer by the second. Soon we could see the drumline marching into the stadium, with the rest of the band following behind them. The rest of them were silent, letting the drummers’ cadence announce their presence. Even from a distance, and with their matching uniforms on, I could tell which one was Zac, pouring his all into the snare drum strapped to his chest.
For the first time, I didn’t try to fight the butterflies that welled up in my stomach at the sight of him. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to help it. Maybe I still wasn’t quite ready to tell him, but I could at least admit to myself how I felt about him. Zac was the one I wanted, and I think he was the one I had wanted all along. I just hadn’t known how to admit it. He was so different from every other guy I’d known that I didn’t even understand what it was that he made me feel.
But now I understood.
When he paused at the band’s section of the bleachers, the three of us yelled and whistled. He wasn’t supposed to break formation, but I saw the way he glanced over at me and grinned that sideways grin. He saw me – in a way that no one else did. We shared that secret little look for just a split second before he took his spot in the pit.
I really don’t remember much about the game itself. I’ll be honest, we didn’t spend a lot of time actually watching it, especially since none of us are experts on sports. Instead, us three girls sat there cheering on the band and discussing hair and makeup for the dance that night. It wasn’t a conversation I was happy to take part in, though, since Zac hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask me to the dance. Maybe I should have asked him, but I didn’t feel that bold.
“Toria, did you hear me?” Justine asked, yelling over the din of the crowd.
I shook my head.
Justine rolled her eyes. “I asked how you wanted me to fix your hair tonight.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “It’s not like I have anyone to impress. Do whatever you want.”
“You’re right. You’ve already impressed Zac.”
After that, it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Well, it doesn’t matter if I have. He’s not my date.”
Whitley and Justine shared a look that I couldn’t quite interpret. I didn’t have a chance to ask what it meant, though. The band began to play a loud, peppy song to lead us into halftime. Apparently, we were winning.
After both teams had made their way off the field, it was the band’s turn. With one quick glance up at me, Zac followed the rest of the drumline onto the field. Someone on the loudspeaker announced that the band would be performing a halftime show of songs by Andrew Lloyd Webber and the drum major called them to attention. Much like the football game itself, I didn’t really see or hear anything other than Zac. From that distance, I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me too, but I hoped he was.
Once the band had finished, I offered to go pick up some snacks from the concession stand. I figured that since halftime was over, the crowd would have thinned a bit and I wouldn’t have to wait too long. Since the band didn’t have to play during the 3rd quarter, I wanted to get back as soon as I could to spend a little time with Zac.
I walked by the band section quickly, but paused when I heard Zac call out my name. “Toria! Hey, Tor!”
I spun around and saw him leaning over the barrier, still clutching a drumstick in the hand he was waving in my direction. He was above me on the bleachers, but I could still see his smile stretching all the way across his face. As I closed the distance between us, he crouched down and peeked through the railing so that we were almost face to face.
“Hey, Zac. I was just going to get some snacks. Are you allowed to eat in uniform?”
“Sadly, no,” he said. “But I won’t tell if you won’t. Get me some nachos? I’ve gotta put my drums up and then I’ll come sit with you guys for a while, okay?”
“Okay,” I replied, realizing that my own smile was just as wide as his. It felt so good to finally be near him again and not have things be so weird. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“See ya soon,” he said. He hesitated for a moment, like he was contemplating something, then poked his head through the railing and kissed my cheek.
Blood rushed to my face and I was sure that my cheeks were bright red as I walked across the stadium to the concession stand, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care if everyone there saw and me and Zac together. It felt too good to care about whatever consequences there could possibly be. But, for once, there weren’t any. We were free to be together and it felt amazing.
I waited impatiently in line to get our snacks and found that my order was even larger than I had the arms to carry. In the end, I only bought one order of nachos, but I didn’t think Zac would mind sharing with me. He was well known for his food stealing, anyway. Finally, after what felt like hours, I headed back to our spot in the bleachers, my arms loaded down with sodas, nachos and popcorn.
As I approached our spot, I could see that Zac was already there, having shed his uniform coat to reveal a thin white t-shirt underneath. The blush I had almost rid myself of came back when I saw that his shirt was soaked through with sweat. How had I been friends with him for so long and not noticed just how beautiful he was?
He was leaning over Justine, listening very intently to whatever Whitley was saying. He glanced up as I approached and Whitley fell silent. I could only assume they were talking about me, and I wasn’t sure I even wanted to ask. I didn’t get a chance, anyway, as Zac was on his feet grabbing food from my arms before I could even open my mouth to ask for help.
“Don’t get too grabby, mister,” I said. “Only the nachos are yours, and you’ve gotta share them with me.”
“I am totally okay with that,” Zac replied, handing Justine and Whitley’s sodas and popcorn off. “I just hope you weren’t very hungry.”
“Oh, I know my appetite is no match for yours. I’ll be alright,” I said.
Justine and Whitley gave each other another little look, but I chose to ignore it. Zac didn’t seem to notice either; he was too focused on his nachos. The four of us ate our food in relative silence for a few minutes. Zac was the first to break the silence, with a mouth still full of food. “So, you girls enjoying the game?”
“We really just came to see you play,” Whitley replied.
My blush returned. It appeared that was going to be a permanent fixture on my face. Zac turned to me and beamed. “Really? Little old me?”
“Yeah, really,” I managed to say. “You’re not so bad out there with your little snare, you know.”
“I’ve always aspired to be not so bad.”
I grinned. “Mission accomplished.”
He handed the nachos off to me. “Here. Finish these before I get cheese all over my pants or the director catches me breaking rules. I’ve got to get back to my spot pretty soon, anyway.”
“Aww, already?” I asked.
He nodded. “Afraid so. We only get a short break. I wish I could spend a little more time with you, though.”
Justine giggled. “Well, you’ll her at the dance tonight, won’t you?”
“Yeah, I suppose I will,” Zac said, glancing at Justine with a look on his face that I didn’t quite understand. “I’m surprised you girls aren’t already off getting all dolled up anyway.”
“Oh, we’ll be rushing off as soon as the game is over,” Whitley said. “Got to look good for… our boys.”
There was something going on, some weird exchange happening here, that I just didn’t quite understand. I couldn’t find the right words to even ask them about it. Instead I just ate what few nachos Zac had left for me while he discussed some midterm art project with Justine. Even though something big had changed between Zac and me, it still felt wonderful for our little group to be back to normal – whatever normal was anymore.
But it couldn’t last forever. A sharp whistle announced that it was time for him to return to his spot with the band. Zac turned back to me and pouted, his bottom lip sticking out pitifully. I laughed and pulled him into a hug, not even caring if I got his sweat all over me.
“Now you go play the hell out of that drum, okay?” I said, pulling back and giving him another smile.
“Of course,” he replied, giving me a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll see you later, okay? You better save me a dance or two.”
With one last smile, his eyes sparkling like they were full of some wonderful secret, he stood up and walked away. I couldn’t help watching his every step. I cursed myself for not having the nerve to ask him to be my date for the dance, and I cursed him for not doing the same. Somehow we were both so close to what we wanted, but so far, too.