Page 28 of I Hear You

The door to the diner chimes and a young couple is walking in, holding hands.

“Hi,” I greet them, “Booth or table?”

“Booth, please,” one of the young women says.

I lead them over to a booth and they slide into it, sitting on the same side, never releasing their hands from each other. I sigh as I walk away to get them drinks. As I’m filling their cups with soda, I think to myself–I wouldn’t mind having someone to hold hands with all the time and be so in love that we do corny things. Things like sit on the same side of a booth in a diner.

Bev must see my day dreaming.

“What’s the look on your face, sweetheart?”

Bev is in her fifties, with short brown hair and fake boobs. This isn’t something I’m guessing about—she told me they’re fake. She always has a full face of makeup on,always.

Her and Joy are best friends and she’s worked here at the diner off and on since she was a young mother in her twenties. The story is, she started working again five years ago when her husband passed away from a heart attack. They had a life insurance policy for him, so she doesn’t need the money. She enjoys staying busy.

Bev is always trying to give me advice and frequently asks about my essentially non-existent love life. She offers at least once a week to set me up with one of the guys from her church. She’s sweet and she means well, but I can barely handle the guy that’s already in my life. The one who likes to kiss the life out of me and run away. Not to mention Ender, the guy online I abandoned who I can’t seem to forget, no matter how good kissing Henry felt.

I brush Bev’s question off and get back to work. The couple in the booth continues to make love sick puppy dog eyes at each other and I feel something I’m not used to–jealousy. I remember over the years getting pangs of jealousy when Ender would talk about girls. I never admitted that to him. But it was there, just under the surface. One time I caught Liam flirting with a barista, I felt nothing. Not an ounce of jealousy. The thought of seeing Henry flirt with someone–that sets my skin on fire and makes me feel a rage I didn’t know I was capable of.

What has that boy and that kiss done to me?

“Get changed. We’re going to go watch the idiots hit each other.”

I’ve just walked into our dorm room after my shift, and Taylor is shoving snacks and drinks into a bag. She hasn’t even turned to look at me.

“Um, I’m sorry, we’re doing what?”

“We’re gonna go watch the football practice. I promised Jesse I would, they’ve been practicing for almost a month and I haven’t made it to one yet. So, today’s the day!” she says, as she drops a book into her bag.

“And you’re bringing a book?” I question her, raising my eyebrows at her.

She turns to face me finally.

“Yup. Football is boring as shit, and football practice is even more boring. Jesse and I have come to an agreement. I can read during practices, but not during games.”

I think about this for a minute before asking, “So… why even go to the practice then?”

“Because Jesse likes it when I do, and I like making Jesse happy,” she says, with a soft expression.

She says this so easily, as if doing things you might loathe for the chance to see someone else smile is the easiest thing in the world. I wish I could have this trait, but my track record shows I usually run from anything that makes me even the slightest bit nervous or uncomfortable. Case in point; my complete silence and refusal to respond to Ender’s emails rather than confront my own feelings.

I have nothing else to do the rest of the day, so I change into some cut-offs and a loose fitting band tee and go with her.

We make it to the football practice field and Taylor spreads out a blanket under a tree on a hill for us to sit on. We’re about a hundred yards away from the action–if you can call it that–but still close enough we can hear Jesse when he cat calls to Taylor and yells, “Hey baby.”

He follows up his greeting with a few goofy dance moves. Taylor waves a hand at him and pulls out her book to start reading.

I didn’t think to bring a book for myself, so instead I lean back on my arms and actually watch the team practice. The team is close enough I can see their faces if I squint, but really they look like nothing more than a sea of muscles and sweat. I spot Jesse talking to a guy whose back is turned to me in a cut off shirt. I notice many of the guys are sporting similar looks. Ripped and cut up shirts and tank tops over their shoulder pads with the tight, ass hugging pants I’m used to seeing football players wear on television.

They’ve all been standing around talking to each other and goofing off, not actually practicing anything, it seems. An older man in a polo shirt, tan shorts and a baseball cap with the school logo on it, blows a whistle. He must be the coach. The football players all take different positions on the field. The guy Jesse was talking to moves to the center and Jesse is a few people over from him. I hear a lot of quick yelling I don’t understand and the guy in the center catches the football that's tossed to him. After that, what I can only see as chaos ensues.

Guys are running in different directions, players that were crouched down across from each other start pushing and shoving. The cracks of their hard uniforms hitting is loud and I can hear lots of grunting and yelling. I’m transfixed. I don’t understand what exactly is going on, but Taylor was wrong. This isn’t boring at all, it’s kind of fiercely hot. The grunting and yelling, the sweating, and the tight pants. This must be why some girls love football.

The guy in the center just threw the football to the other end of the field. Someone catches it and takes off running in the same direction the ball was traveling. When he makes it to the end of the field, he drops the ball on the ground and starts dancing around. The ball thrower watched the whole thing play out, but he isn’t celebrating like everyone else. Was that not supposed to happen? Now the guy who threw the ball is walking toward the coach, his head hanging, staring at the grass as he walks. That’s when I realize the guy is Henry. Strange, he never mentioned he’s on the football team.

I can confidently say I have never watched a football game in its entirety. I've seen football games on television when someone else was watching them and I happened to be in the room, but I will never claim to know the rules of the sport. I am, however, nearly certain that Henry’s position is called the Quarterback and that what just happened was a good thing for him and his team. Ender played football and my limited knowledge is mostly from his emails. Ender was apparently good, and he was supposed to be going to college on a full scholarship to play. He never updated me on what school he chose before we stopped emailing. I’m realizing now I don’t even remember if he told me what position he played. I haven’t been re-reading his old emails as much; I’ve been so busy between classes, homework, working at the diner and spending some time with Taylor when I can.

If I’m right, and what just happened on the field was a good thing for Henry, why does he look so sad? And why, with him looking so sad, am I still so turned on by him right now? He has washboard abs that are prominently on display because of his ripped half shirt, and the muscles in his arms flex strongly as he wrings his hands while talking to the coach. He twists and turns, stretching and arching his back, making the muscles in his butt look more defined. I didn’t even know someone could have muscles in their ass like that.

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