Sidelines || MxM

Fuck My Life

Ethan

I slumped over the table at Birchwood Café, my cheek resting against the cool, slightly sticky surface while I gave my iced coffee the kind of sad look usually reserved for lost puppies.

"Why on earth did I choose a college where football is practically a religion?" I grumbled to my coffee, tracing a finger along the condensation on the glass, feeling the damp coolness reaching my face. The glass was sweating more than a nervous freshman on their first day at Cedar Lake University. And honestly, so was I. The paradox was thick enough to cut with a knife – I was a bookworm by nature, stranded in a sea of football fanatics.

The cafe was a cozy nook in Pinebridge, Michigan, and served as an unofficial truce zone where university students and townies coexisted in caffeinated harmony. Birchwood was an eclectic mix of small-town vibes and college energy, the kind of place where you could overhear a debate about Nietzsche one minute and the latest football scores the next.

I glanced at the honor society pin on my backpack, with a bittersweet reminder of the scholarship that brought me to Cedar Lake University. Without it, studying at such a prestigious school would have been nothing but a distant dream. Yet, I hadn't fully anticipated the overpowering presence of football culture.

Outside, the town fully embraced the biting chill of autumn, and the ice cubes in my coffee made a feeble attempt at melting. "Yeah, good luck with that," I muttered sarcastically to the struggling cubes. The sight took me back to my high school days, where it all started, the root of my aversion to football.

Shaking off my thoughts, I tried to focus on the present, which was chaotic enough. Somehow, I had found myself roped into organizing the booths for the university clubs at The Lakeside Lantern Festivals—the celebration of the home post-game victory and the grand finale of Homecoming week. Okay, I admit not somehow, but as if that wasn't enough, I was also in charge of distributing lanterns for the festival in the Honor Society booth. I'm 22 years old, could barely match my socks, and was expected to orchestrate a lantern-lit spectacle. Talk about being out of my depth.

I let out a deep sigh as the café wall in front of me, adorned like a misfit collage of Pinebridge's history and Cedar Lake's athletic glory, seemed to mock me.

"Thanks for the sympathy," I muttered to my iced coffee, still staring at the café wall.

As if a cold drink could offer any real sympathy.

"I didn't know the pressure had gotten so bad that you've started talking to coffee now," Leo's light and teasing voice broke through my reverie. He had crept up on me so quietly that I hadn't noticed him until he was right there. Looking up, I offered a half-hearted smile. Leo was in his usual crewneck sweater that matched his sneakers and made his light caramel skin glow even in the dim light of the café. He wasn't tall, but he had a way of holding himself that made him seem bigger than he was.

"Yeah, well, the coffee offers better advice than most people around here."

Leo laughed, the sound cutting through the hum of the café. "And here I thought honor society students were supposed to be the sane ones."

I rolled my eyes. "Sane is overrated. Besides, if sanity means not having to organize a lantern festival and deal with the chaos of the last day of homecoming week, then I'm happy to be a little nuts."

Leo leaned in, lowering his voice. His curls were a bit unruly, giving him a carefree, effortlessly cool vibe. "Come on, Ethan, your problem isn't the lanterns. They have a name."

"Oh, no, no," I said as I lifted my head.

He sat down, his amber eyes shimmered in amusement. "Oh, man, the universe really has it out for you, doesn't it? Maybe it's fate. You, a lantern, a handsome football captain under the stars..."