Finding Love

5

Some people are like

A bag of pampers...

Self-absorbed and full of s**t.

After a quarter of an hour, we hear music. The music comes from a corridor leading to the field. The music slowly gets louder and louder and excited I see a fanfare walking on the field. Like soldiers, they march together to the middle of the field where they start playing another song. The musicians move organized on the field where they form the letter C of California.

When the music takes on a different tone, the team mascot walks onto the field, a golden bear. Roaring and clawing his arms, he makes a somersault.  Then the music changes again, just like the musicians. Now they stand in a quadrangle with their instruments facing us. They start playing a song by Michael Jackson when cheerleaders hopping and waving their pompoms around in the middle of the square...

I hear Coll whistling next to me and as a reflex, I hit him on his arm. "Ouch sis, was that really necessary?" he asks while rubbing his sore arm with an acid face. I look at him with a look that can say more than words. Annoyed he rolls his eyes and we focus our attention again on the cheerleaders and the fanfare. The cheerleaders do a choreography in which a lot of people are thrown in the air and their asses are shaken a lot.

After the performance, it's the turn of the other team, Texas. If I have to be honest, I thought the one from California was much better, but the one from Texas wasn't bad either. Then suddenly the lights go out and the spotlights shine on the two hallways leading to the field. From both the football players come out with their helmets already on. They meet each other in the middle and nod at each other. The players get ready and the reserves start to warm up on the sidelines. The referee whistles on his whistle, signaling that the game is about to begin.

It's the second break of a quarter of an hour and all our hotdogs are already gone. We're only halfway through the game despite being 2 hours away. With sheet stone scissors lost, I have to go get popcorn for everyone. Stepping in between the people I finally get back in the hallway with all the food stalls. On the way to our places, I saw a popcorn stall, but I don't know if it was to the left or to the right.

I decide to go to the right but I don't see a popcorn stall. I take a few more steps, hoping to find my precious popcorn. While cursing the person who makes this place so big and complicated I smell something familiar in the air. I follow the scent through a few more corridors when I sigh in relief.

In front of me, there is a popcorn stall. Happy with the discovery, I buy 5 little bags that I try to balance in my arms. I try to find my way back to my seat but it turns out to be not so easy when you don't see anything and this place is a maze. Out of nowhere, I run into a hard wall, where I was sure it wasn't there on the way back. Falling backward on my a*s I see all my popcorn bags flying into the air.

‘s**t' I mumble frustrated when I get the bags back together again. While picking up the last bag I see a pair of shoes. Following the shoes upstairs I come across football pants and T-shirts. Doubtful if I want to look any further I hover my eyes even more. I meet a sweaty face, but nevertheless, it is a very beautiful face. The boy in front of me has a fierce jawline and brown-green eyes. His hair is a bit wet from the sweat and hangs slightly in front of his eyes.

Quickly I stand up and look at my shoes. I mumble a little sorry and just want to walk on when a hand grabs my wrist. ‘What are you doing here, you know that a normal person like you shouldn't come here' says the boy angry as his eyes spitfire. Asking questionly, I look at him. He rolls his eyes and points to a placard I didn't see when I walked by. The placard says that this space is for players only.

Again a sorry muttering, I pull my wrist out of his grip and turn around to walk away, but this time his voice stops me. ‘If you want an autograph you just have to say it,' he says arrogantly. I turn around questioningly and see the name on his T-shirts, Martin. I try to turn my head enough to look at the back of my T-shirts. A bit clumsy with the popcorn in my arms I just see the name Martin.

I feel my cheeks warming up as I turn around and walk away for good this time, mumbling that this point is right in the American dream. There are very beautiful boys here but apparently, they are big assholes.