Obscure

Chapter 1

"Invitations"

      I crave for prestige. For the academia of the intelligent and the luxury of the rich. The world envisioned in my head entails dark spruce detailing, gold gilded frames, and worn leather binds. It's the same place I visit each time I close my eyes.
     The attraction is unexplainable. My theory is my heart use to belong to an old soul. A nice elderly woman who woke up before the sun just to hear the birds and stayed awake listening to classical music she could link back to her younger years. It made sense to the place hidden beneath layers of sleep.
     On special occasions, my eyes would close and I would be somewhere dark. Beams of light shooting from every direction that trapped me in a man made forest of tall shelves and porcelain faces. I'd hear the echo of screeching birds and laughing children. Then it would all stop at the sudden feeling of strong vibrations, the floors shaking under determined footsteps that scare all the birds and children away.
      I escape there often. To the singing birds and happy children and at the sound of those heavy boots, everything goes mute and the beams of light slither away into the real world of wherever I am. Most of the time, I awake to find myself safe in my bed, but today I'm not so lucky.
    My eyes struggle to stay open. They're immediately met with the harsh light of a lamp, directed straight into their line of sight.
     "Crap," I mutter. My body is still recovering from my nap and lagging in response. My hands finally reach my face and block out the light, but I'm still seeing a chromatic galaxy of stars.
     "Told you it would wake her," someone yells from behind me. I face the direction of the sound and as my eye sight adjusts, I see the devil responsible for my horrible wake up call. Just another girl on the team.
      I squint my eyes, both as a threat to her and a bandaid for myself. I don't bother saying anything. It seems useless. What's done is done and at this point I'm fully alert of my surroundings. I'm just thankful another infamous alarm method wasn't used. One that involved a bucket of water and a waterfall down my body.
      "We're here, Laclaire!" A girl beside me announces. In her hands she holds the culprit of my previous pain, a flashlight. She flicks off the light and throws it in her school bag and tosses it to the ground. I fight back the urge to sneer at her, resentment for what happened earlier lingering in my head, but then she looks up and smiles at me and I cool down a bit.
     I take a breath. Thoughts of reconciliation and understanding flood my mind. Out of experience, justifying the actions of others has become a habit.
     "Sorry about the light but we were calling your name and you didn't wake up."
     I shrug my shoulders. "Don't worry." I try to bring my voice above a whisper but it won't budge. I could write it off as being tired but I'd just be lying to myself. There's no moment in my life where I'm the loudest in the room or speaking an audible sentence. I just shrink into the background and squeak like a little mouse.
     All around me is chaos. Twenty four girls are fighting to be heard. Their words bouncing off the aluminum walls of the bus. The sound of the bus alarm ringing causes the conversations to stop. At the back of a bus, a tall, lean figure appears in front of the fire exit. Everyone, including me, faces them.
     "Alright, the field's ready for warm up. Load out!" In a mess of backpacks and bus seats, twenty four girls climb out of the bus in a long line to the big green field. Everyone is back to their old conversations and high volume. I remain mute in the back, focused on the game ahead of us.
       We reach the field and dig into our bags to grab our cleats and shin guards. Preparing ourselves for a long warmup and an even longer game.
      "Up and at 'em, girls! Warm-up lap and we'll begin with passes."

x

      We won.
      Every girl I look at is a sweating mess. Their skins are gleaming in the moonlight. I have to catch my breath before hoisting my duffel bag on my shoulders. The almost two hour game still has a toll on me. I'm physically exhausted and I'm imagining myself collapsing on my bed.
      Per tradition, we congratulate each other on the highs and lows of the game. Reminiscing on our highlights and joking about our failures. Tonight's game earns me a lot of pats on the back. I can't help but smile at my success. Enjoying this moment of happiness in my own bubble.
      When we reach the bus, I take my usual seat in the middle. Relaxing against the cold window, ready for another nap and maybe another journey to my world.
      "Hey, Laclaire!" My coach scoots next to me. I greet her with a smile. A useless courtesy under the blanket of night. No doubt she only saw my head turning, rather than my aching muscles pulling together for a pathetic grin.
      "You did amazing tonight!" She sings out quietly. For a person I'm so use to hearing shouting, it's odd to her speaking to me as if she too has lost her voice.
     "Thanks," I manage in between tired breaths.  
     "I heard a rumor that a scout was here tonight," she begins. She's no longer stringing along her sentence in a melody. She's curt and straight to the point. This is serious. Any mention of a scout makes any conversation serious. Except it's my sophomore year, scouts aren't exactly my biggest priority when on the field. I don't voice this concern.
    "Really?" I try to sound interested but I'm half asleep.
     The bus drives under a street lamp, revealing her huge smile that speaks unwritten horror to me. To me, there's nothing more terrifying than a huge toothy grin.
     "It was a scout from another school."
     I had finally caught my breath until I heard that sentence. All air left my lungs. Another school? Isn't that illegal in some type of rule book?
     "It's a private school notorious for their athletic program. Most of their athletes go pro and their coaches have experience with national teams. Their facilities—" Her rambling drowns in a sea of thoughts as I comprehend this new information. I'm meant to be hidden among white noise, unsuspecting, and unnoticed but if what I was hearing was right, I was under the limelight. I had been the star. "—Obviously, you'd have to talk to your mom and we'd of course miss you here, but you can't admit that this is an amazing opportunity!"
     All I can say is, "Wow."
     But coach has millions more to say. I tune in and out as she goes on and on as we drive home but my head's somewhere else. Dark wood and gold disappear and instead are replaced with huge stadium lights and a stand of cheering fans.

*this is my first story so criticism is welcome, (as long as it's constructive and by no means offensive)

i hope you guys enjoy this story, this is mostly my way of dipping my finger into my favorite aesthetic and bringing it to life with a mystery element rather than a cliche love story

if you enjoyed this chapter and would like to read more please vote, add this story to your library, and follow my account for updates

-roseliane