When in Rome

Chapter ②①

Chapter ②①

You know that moment when you see something, something you shouldn't. It's like everything around you goes in slow motion.

Your legs lock in place and your mouth goes dry. Your stomach flips upside down leaving you feeling as if you just got sucker punched. And your heart, your heart stops beating, stops the necessary blood flow, and starts to crack. Cracking like punctured glass, piece by piece, until it falls and shatters on the ground right by your feet.

All of this happens in duration of ten seconds and no matter how hard you try you can't tear your gaze away.

Away from that blue number seven on the back of a white home game jersey. That white home game jersey that seems to be pressed right up against cheetah print leggings, leggings that lead all the way up to a blonde head of curls. And that blonde head of curls contains lips, lips that are pressed up against the person wearing that blue number seven.

My heart squeezes in my chest and that's when adrenaline begins to take over my system. And when adrenaline takes over there's only one thing left to do.

Fight or flight.

And my usual response? Flight.

So that's exactly what I do. I run.

Into to the crowd of celebrating bodies, slipping between all the football padding and cheerleaders, blue, white, and gold confetti getting tossed in the air. All the cheers slide past my ears. I can't hear anything besides the pounding in my chest.

My legs carry me all the way to the parking lot and I reach my car with my keys already in hand. I jump in the front seat and slam the door behind me. Then buckle my seat belt and shove the keys into the ignition. Placing my hands on the wheel I take in a deep breath before turning around, checking if anyone's behind me, and then speed out of the parking lot. My hands tighten on the wheel as cheetah print leggings and blonde curls flash through my mind. The image now permanently etched into my brain

There was no warnings, no signs.

Or was I just too oblivious to even notice?

I reach my house and see that there are no cars in the driveway. This is one of those times I'm thankful that my parents both work during the day. With adrenaline still in my system I run inside my house, lock the door, and then run straight up to my room.

I throw the door open with a bang as it connects with the wall and then yank my jean jacket off and whip it across the room. My phone starts ringing in my back pocket, but I don't even look at it, I just pull it out and throw it across the room, not caring when it bounces off my bed.

I pull my hair out of the ponytail it's in and shake it with my hands, but then I reach up into my scalp and tug on it, letting out a growl of frustration. Then I glance at the wall and freeze.

A white number seven on a blue jersey stares back at me in the mirror. A number that I now despise. I quickly yank the jersey over my head and toss it across the room.

My chest rises and falls as I take in heavy breaths. I go back over to my door and slam it shut.

The sound rings through the walls the last of my adrenaline gone. My breathing slows back to normal and that's when I feel it.

The lump in my throat.

I swallow willing it to go away, but that just makes it heavier. I bite my lip feeling the sting in my eyes. I blink rapidly trying to get it to stop, but that just makes them fill with water.

Gripping the door handle I slide down the door just as the first tear slides down my cheek.

They won homecoming, throwing the winning touchdown in the last ten seconds, but I just got tackled... right to the ground.