Minutes Before The Miracle

CHAPTER - 26

Thought of the chapter :-
TRUST THE WAIT.
Embrace the uncertainty,
Enjoy the beauty of becoming.
When nothing is certain, anything is possible.
                          - Mandy Hale

-x-

EMMA

OH MY STARS!

Everything blanketing me blacks out. There is just him with a gleaming silver halo framing his athletic build. And he is... running.

Clad in a lava grey jersey, Steven is sprinting round the field, seemingly racing the blowing wind using the entire possession of his might.

"Emma, are you there?" I snap my head to the loud voice and notice Olivia standing infront of me with scrunched up brows and curious eyes.

Everything that blacked out a few moments ago has a redefined vibrance now.

"Why do your eyes and mouth look like they have been replaced by saucers?" she asks teasingly, taking Will from me who holds out his arms towards his mother.

"Umm... Nothing," I reply, blinking my eyes a few times to come out of the trance.

"Did you call your friend?" she enquires.

"Yes."

"So, where is he?"

"On the field." The words purge out automatically.

"What?" she asks in a puzzled tone as though I am any less bewildered. "Where?"

My index finger points towards the field as a reflex response, with Olivia's eyes following the direction. After a few moments of awkward silence, I look at Olivia who is standing with her mouth agape.

I tap her shoulder and say,"Olivia, you zoned out."

Coming out of her daze, she whispers a question,"Are you here with Steve?" I nod in affirmation, unable to fathom her expression.

"Oh my god... Jules," she shrieks, the yell almost making my ears ring.

Olivia hurriedly sashays past me towards Jules and frantically speaks something which I - being out of earshot - am unable to hear.

I slowly and carefully walk towards the duo, observing Jules's eyes growing wider by each second. As soon as I stand next to them, Olivia stops talking and Jules holds me by my arms, looking deep into my orbs.

"You are with Steve a.k.a. Steven Bradshaw?" Jules questions so strongly that I immediately nod my head.

"What is he to you?" she continues.

"To be brutally honest, he is my boss and I am his employee," I reply.

I hear multiple gasps and look around to realise that I am surrounded by four females, all hungry for answers.

The entire warm-up session goes by in a rapid fire. I answer the infinite queries of mine and Steven's when, where, whether, how etc. but not before getting the answer to my single question.

STEVEN IS A RUGBY PLAYER!

UNBELIEVABLE!

I stare at his stiff posture during the entire opening anthem, hoping him to give me atleast a sideway glance but his eyes turn me down.

The match starts with a single blow of whistle and all of my uninterrupted focus gets concentrated on the field. There is this run and chase going on between two teams of suave guys. I keep looking at Steven from time to time, the movement of his lithe body and flexing muscles from every move.

Suddenly, a mix of thunderous cheer and heavy sigh booms in the air. Fireworks split the sky and cheer girls twirl around with their pom poms. My eyes travel towards Steven on instinct in an instant to witness the torturous expression that marrs his face. He clenches his fist and hits his side thigh. Hard.

The opponent team scored a goal.

After allowing a breather, the game resumes and so does the pattern. Murmurs when the players are sprinting and passing the ball, cheers and sighs when a team scores a goal followed by a little lull.

By now, I have lost all enthusiasm in the game. The opponent team has been rapidly scoring goals upon goals and Steven hasn't even allowed himself a single glance in my direction. If he is ignoring me, then he probably doesn't know how it feels to be ignored.

A break follows the first half of the game. The opponent team, whom I name as 'The Greens' are leading by six points. All the members of our team,'The Greys' seem frustrated or anxious. All except Steven. He is livid.

I gulp when his Adam's apple bobs as he chugs down a bottle of chilled water with drops of sweat trickling down his forehead to his cheeks. He isn't sparing a look at me and all I am doing is staring his sporty form from this distance. How ironic!

The second half of the match begins. Not after any more than two minutes, the air surrounding me vibrates. Jules stands up and shouts at an ear piercing magnitude.

Our team scored a goal.

All our players are running around, hugging and howling in renewed inspiration. The guy who scored the goal suddenly turns around and beams, looking at Jules. Jules looks back at an equal intensity, sending him a couple of flying kisses to which he smiles even more. I focus back on Steven and he is busy talking to his team mates.

"Steve is an extremely focused guy. Don't get disheartened if he isn't sparing a glance at you right now 'cause you and I both know that he eventually will." Olivia's words felt like rubbing alcohol on a deep wound.

Is it that obvious?

"It isn't like that," I whisper.

She smirks and replies,"If you say so."

-x-

The tension in the air is so thick that a knife can slice through it. We have long forgotten how to breathe. The score difference is zero and the time margin to decide the game is thirty seconds.

Steven looks calm but his body screams anything but composure. He is drenched in sweat with beads of perspiration cascading down from everywhere to everywhere.

The blow of the whistle marks the beginning of the concluding thirty seconds. Both the teams are trying to gain control over the ball.

Ten more seconds!

David is running with the ball towards the goal post but suddenly Number 17 and Number 21 of the 'The Greens' create a boundary and defend him from all sides. Jules emanates a string of curses at the circumstance.

He hastily throws the ball upwards in the air but it travels to the right and falls to the ground.

Well, almost.

Steven manages to appear like some miracle, grips the ball and continues running.

Three seconds due!

A guy from the opponent team thrawts Steven from the front and apparently, without a second thought, he releases the ball in the air towards the goal post.

Everything falls into a slumbering pace.

My line of vision takes a trip from him to his arms to the ball amidst the air and the ball...

-x-