Bad Things

8. Feel

  And finally the silence
Looking out, looking back across the sky
Trying to find a meaning
Knowing that I just left it all behind
Still I smell a lingering softness
Where did she go
How did she go
I wanna wanna know
I wanna know that she'll be coming here to me

- Ben Jelen. 

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The lights were always brightest on Friday nights. Even as a kid, Camila always loved game night. She'd sit in the stands with her mom and Carlos, and although she didn't know much about the game, she would always feel like she was a part of something special. But what seemed to fascinate her most, were the lights, so big, so powerful up in the sky.

She'd often stare up at them and pretend they were groups of stars that clustered together just for the game, just for her. And on those times that Niall came, they pretended they were beams from a spaceship, and the aliens on board were just biding their time before snatching them up and taking them to a far off planet to worship and revere them. Niall's words, not hers.

But in all the times she'd sat under them, never had those lights been as bright as they were tonight.

There was something in the air, something Camila couldn't quite pinpoint. A charge of some sort. Anticipation? Excitement? She couldn't be sure, but it was different than she'd ever felt in a football stadium before.

She'd cheered for many games and watched even more, but she hadn't ever rooted for a team other than the Knights. But that night she couldn't help it, even if it was only inside her mind. The Jaguars were amazing—or rather, Shawn was amazing. She'd seen him play before, but she'd never really watched him.

Football wasn't a graceful sport by any means, but he was. Somehow, Shawn made it all look so easy, so effortless. He commanded the field like a general at war, leading his team yard after yard, all the way to the end zone time and time again. Whenever he set foot onto the grass, Camila felt it. That charge that went through the stands, the one she couldn't quite understand.

They all knew they were watching greatness out there.

The Jaguars offense was huddled near the sideline, Coach Mendes giving some last minute instructions before the time out was over. Camila could see Shawn at his side, his head bowed as his father's hand moved over the play board. She imagined his face was serious as he concentrated on his father's words. It took her all of three seconds to realize she didn't know what his serious face looked like—or his joking, happy, or playful ones either. She didn't know anything about him, but right then, a part of her wanted to. A part she'd been trying to suppress since that night.

After a few moments, all the players put their hands in, chanted something she couldn't make out, and then dispersed. Shawn started to follow, when his father's hand shot out and grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back. Camila felt a strange sort of tightening in her chest. She leaned forward in her seat, her elbows digging into her knees.