set//elijah stevenson

chapter one

     A breeze blew by as we all shuddered with the excitement of having just completed our halftime show. My bass clarinet was weighing hard around my neck, but I could have cared less. The crowd was still cheering us on as we made our way off the field, ready to take our break. This was the feeling I got every Friday night. My arms covered in chills and I felt like I was walking on air. 

     I set my instrument down on the bleachers, carefully moving around to get to the stairs. I looked up, searching for my drum major, who was also my closest friend. But my eyes caught the top of another head, instead. Green eyes met blue, and so I panicked and looked away. Eye contact has always made me uncomfortable. But I went back for a second glance because maybe it had been someone I knew. It wasn't. He was a fairly attractive guy, probably about seventeen years old. His hair kind of reminded me of 90's Leonardo DiCaprio, only darker. I shrugged it off and instead continued out to the concession stands. I slipped my jacked off, pulling the money out of the pocket that was inside my pants. The uniform was uncomfortable and stuffy, but I didn't mind. 

     The line was long, but dying down, as third quarter had just begun. I pulled out my phone as I was waiting, doing my streaks. That's when I saw the blue-eyed boy striding confidently with his friends over to the line. I gulped, keeping my eyes on my phone. He was taller than I thought. His laugh was quiet, but you could tell that his personality was bold. In fact, his whole personality was a lot softer than what he led on.

     After I ordered my food, I stepped to the side, waiting on it. Blue eyed boy did, too. Our eyes caught again, and this time I almost couldn't escape the uncomfortable stare. I did, eventually, and he only chuckled through his smirk. I wasn't sure what this meant, or if I should say anything, so I just grabbed my pretzel and left. 

     The third quarter was ending, and we got out jackets back on and prepared to play. I tugged my neck strap over my head, positioning my instruments neck so that it was facing me. My drum major approached the front, and we all got quiet.

     "Set!" And that was when I saw him again. Blue eyes had his arms crossed, leaning against the railing. He was looking at me, a smirk on his face. That damn smirk. And he was alone. I understood, I think, that he was there for me. "ESPN!" My drum major called out. I quickly glanced away, working my way through my flip folder to find probably the most famous pep tune. 

     We began to play, and I watched him the whole time. I didn't need my music. I never needed my music. I always had my songs memorized, always. I just needed an excuse to look away, and I also wanted to be sure he was there to look at me. He was. He watched my every move. His smirk faded into a smile, and I wasn't sure what this meant, but if I had to guess, it was probably a sign we were going to be friends. I mean, how many older boys stalk you at football games?

     Our song wrapped up, and he clapped. No one ever clapped after a pep song, because you hear them all the time and they're nothing special. But blue-eyed boy liked it, and that seemed very important at that moment. I was kind of hoping he'd talk to me. I was the only one in my section, and I had a whole row to myself, so he had every opportunity. I wasn't sure if he was too shy or what, but it seemed like he was contemplating it. His eyes darted between the metal bleachers and me, biting his lip. His eyebrows were raised like he was asking a question. I hoped he was asking what I thought he was, so I nodded my head. He began to make his way over to the spot next to me. Stepping carefully over my bag, moving my water aside, he stood next to me, a nervous smile on his face. He wasn't as confident up close, I noticed. That was fine, because I am never confident, and so it helps that I wasn't around someone too bold.