Capturing You

Chapter 4: A Confession

     I felt like a pest following Burrow to the cafeteria even if I did stay a few steps behind, his teammates rallying with him to talk game and whatever boyish chatter they had to share. I grew up an only child, so I yearned for that sibling-like camaraderie they embodied effortlessly. I only had that sort of connection with my cousins, who all had siblings of their own; as much as they loved me like that, I had always wondered what it would be like to be so closely bonded with someone I was so similar to. Watching the group of boys — put loosely, as they were all grown men, far larger than me — roughhouse together on the way to the mess hall was, admittedly, amusing.

     Briefly glancing around, I noticed there were no other photographers or any PR in general nearby in the corridor as we walked. I suddenly thought of myself as less of a pest and more as a fly on the wall here, witnessing the very moments that a photographer was meant to capture. I readied another photo, and through my lens, the boys' shoulders resembled a collection of mountains, padded and tough. The empty space above their heads resembled the sky. And so I pressed the button, a small smile growing on my lips as I did so.

     At lunch, we all filed in line, and I headed for the soup and salad bar, wanting something light and warm to fill me up after being out in the cold. This part I was curious about, too; what did these guys eat? I vividly remembered a classmate of mine back in high school spending every first period downing a jar of peanut butter with a spoon for protein. He was on his way to play baseball in college. When I first met him, he was a twig. Needless to say, the peanut butter worked.

     I got a cup of white chicken chili and a BLT, cut in half, before heading to a table away from the window. Burrow had asked me to join everyone else for lunch but I didn't take it literally; I didn't mind sitting alone. The team lined up for the daily special, which was some sort of baked chicken breast and vegetable side, with some of the bigger offensive linemen opting for three or four chicken breasts, politely conversing with the tiny lunch ladies. I couldn't help but snicker to myself at the contrast. Just minutes ago I was watching these guys absolutely pummel each other; it occurred to me then that the majority of them must have been old momma's boys.

     "Sitting alone?"

     I looked up from the viewfinder on my camera, in which I had been sifting and marking some of the better photos from what I had taken so far. I hadn't touched my food yet.

     It was none other than Burrow, standing over me with an expectant look. I purposely chose one of the smaller tables so that I could have some solitude and so that I could stay out of the team's way. Flying under the radar didn't work, though. I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm just trying to get a head start on picking out these photos, you know."

     He joined me. My heart immediately began to race against my chest, and when I realized that he would be sitting across from me, I pulled my stuff away from the table to give him space for his tray. "Are you always working?" He asked, a rather teasing smile on his face.

     I took slight offense to it, but in his same playful demeanor. I snapped a quick photo of him looking down at me, holding his tray of food. I could see the cheesy caption in my head now.

     "I don't know if you've met Elena, but she is... kind of a hard ass." It wasn't the sort of thing I would say to someone in the PR department, but Burrow was leagues beyond that and I felt a sort of trust in him. "I've had days off," I said matter-of-factly.

     "I know. You just celebrated your birthday," he told me, busy cutting up his chicken. I gulped, having forgotten that — and it suddenly made sense why being near him today has made me so nervous. It just slipped my mind, being more occupied with work and Elena's strict expectations. He glanced up at me and smiled.