Blind to Beauty

Chapter Four

    “Just because you are blind, and unable to see my beauty doesn't mean it does not exist.” ― Margaret Cho

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hissed in Seamoore’s ear, while everyone was dividing into teams, “you’re going to get hurt.”

     “I think I can take care of myself,” Seamoore grumbled back. He began stretching his arms above his head.

     “I’m sure you can, but are you an idiot?” I asked, my voice beginning to rise. People turned to look at me, and I quieted my voice again, “they don’t know you’re blind. And if they did I doubt they’d go any easier on you.”

     “Good, I don’t want them to go easy on me,” he replied, and sat on the ground, his legs sprawled in front of him and reached for his toes.

     I sighed and looked over at Brice and Scott who were tossing a football back and forth, warming up. Each of them had decided to be the quarterbacks of the two teams. I had hoped that Seamoore was going to want to be quarterback because they seemed to be tackled the least, but there was no such luck. Seamoore had asked to be running-back. I had no idea what the position did, but I had a feeling he was going to get tackled.

     “How are you going to be able to play if you can’t even see the ball?” I tried again. I was hoping I’d be able to talk him out of playing this game.

     “I was just hoping to feel around for it,” he said sarcastically.

      I rolled my eyes and him and walked a few steps away, then stalked back to him again, “Please, can we just leave?” I begged.

     “Why? I thought these people were your friends,” Seamoore said, standing up.

     “I never said that. I said I knew them from school. Knowing them from a place and being friends are two completely different things.”

     “You said I was your friend to Bruce,” he replied, cocking an eyebrow.

     “It’s Brice. And I only said that because I didn’t know how else to introduce you,” I whined.

     “You could have said ‘Community service project’ or ‘acquaintance’,” he offered, a smug look on his face.

     “Or I could have just said ‘stupid idiot’ or ‘moronic dumbo’. Both would have worked.”

     “I suppose you’re right… If you were talking about someone else.”

     “Wow, great comeback,” I said, sarcasm filling my voice, “I’m speechless. I honestly don’t know how to reply.”

     “Good. You talk a bit too much anyways,” he said, and walked away in the direction of where Brice was.

      I stared after him as he left, catching the ball easily when Brice tossed it to him. Maybe I didn’t have all that much to worry about? I’m sure Seamoore could take care of himself. What was the worst that could happen? I doubt they’d try to hurt him. This was just a silly game. Not like there was a prize for winning.

     As the two teams began to divide on either side of the invisible line, Seamoore took his position. After a bit of yelling, the game started. I can’t really tell you what was going on because I don’t understand football. To me it was just a bunch of guys running into one another, and ball being thrown through the air. When Seamoore caught the ball, I couldn’t help but stand up on the bench I had been sitting on and try to get a better look at what was going on. I saw him running in the direction of the opposing team’s touchdown area. I had never seen someone run so fast, but with so much ease. He didn’t seem to be running at all, more like jogging. But he wasn’t jogging because he was much faster than any of the other guys out on the field.