It's hard; it's tough
Nothing's strong enough
To beat this screaming rage inside me
Kill me; slam me
I can't even look and see
Anything for the gold
Anything at all for the gold
They stopped for a moment as the football spiraled. The cheerleaders stopped cheering, the crowd stood in hushed silence, the players stood silent and still, sweat dripping from their brow in the midday sun. But among the silence, a single player reached out and caught the ball and began to take the few steps towards the goal line…
The referee's whistle interrupted the game as it ended. Hundreds of eyes squinted towards the goal line and waited for the referee's signal.
It was good.
The field and bleachers erupted into pandemonium, with the cheerleaders screaming at the top of their lungs and the Kingsport football players slapping high fives and short, manly hugs while the Jackson players' faces grew dismayed.
Tyler Connell got up from his position under the goal and walked over to the cheerleaders and gave a blonde a high five.
"Well played, Connell," Valerie Lanier laughed. "Well played."
"Thanks. Well cheered." He held out the football tucked under his arm, the winning football that he would get to keep after scoring the winning goal. "Here."
Val stared at it with blue eyes, confused, then looked back up at Tyler.
"Why?" she asked. "It's yours."
"Keep it," he told her, pressing it to her. "Keep it."
And he sauntered off; unusually calm for someone who had just made it to state high school football playoffs.
"Thanks," Val whispered after him, her voice catching in the breeze that cooled the bodies of the cheerleaders and the sweaty football players.
"I think there's a relationship blossoming," a voice said from behind her. Val spun, startled.
Emilia Garvey smiled, her green eyes lighting as she adjusted her brown ponytail.
"No," Val answered. "No relationship."
"We'll see about that," replied Emilia, not pushing. "Ever seen Fiddler On The Roof?"
"Yes," said Val uncertainly. "Twice."
"There's a song I like from there," Emilia told her. "Matchmaker."
And Emilia sauntered off just like Tyler, leaving Val alone with worries as to how Emilia, captain of the squad, might interpret the song. The lyrics ran through her head.
Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match, find me a find, catch me a catch… Matchmaker, Matchmaker, look through your book, and make me a perfect match…
Val hadn't thought of that song in a long time, and certainly not since she had fallen for Tyler, because the song suddenly made more sense than ever—
For poppa, make him a scholar… Tyler got straight A's and had a 4.0 GPA. For
momma, make him rich as a king… Well, Tyler was rich enough, definitely. As for me, well, I wouldn't holler if he were as handsome as anything… Val watched Tyler, conversing with his friends in the afternoon light.
Yeah, she thought with a smile, he's handsome.
She shook her head, simultaneously shaking away her thoughts. These were the
ramblings of an idiot—after all, she mentally laughed, I don't want to marry him… do I?
Oh, how this was confusing. Val stepped away from her standstill into the crowd,
to disappear among the bodies of many rejoicing.
Tyler watched her go.
The theory's weak; I'm growing old
It's hot outside; inside I'm cold
Stop the feeling deep down in me
Anything at all for the goldOh yeah, for the gold
For the gold—the gold, the gold…
Val walked into the party with a smile at her lips. She had gone home to change quickly out of her cheerleading uniform and into a lavender dress, and by the time she had returned to the gym—which had been decorated quickly with a banner and streamers—the party was in full swing.
Her head swiveled on a slender neck as she searched the crowd for a familiar blond head. Val's eyes lit, much like Emilia's before, as she spotted the football player talking to the a couple other players and a couple of adoring fans.
Oh, right, no relationship, Val snickered to herself. How on earth does anyone believe that?
She chose not to answer that, because she knew that answering would lead to the conclusion that everyone else had known long before her. And maybe he did, too, said her mind. Val hoped that wasn't true.
Her eyes regarded him for a moment before she decided he was busy, and wouldn't want to greet her anyway. Val looked around… Emilia, Jasmine, Caitie, Hank—anyone. Anything.
Refreshments.
She started towards the table with drinks and a huge sheet cake that was emblazoned with Congratulations, Kingsport Cobras. Val had a sneaking suspicion that the committee who had organized the party had made two cakes and waited for the outcome to choose which one. The other would probably be displayed when this one ran out—by which time no one would care if it said Too Bad, Cobras.
A finger tapped her shoulder.
Val spun and found she was looking into blue eyes and a smile.
"Tyler," she greeted. "Surprise, surprise."
"You already see me every day with EMS and games and school," he pointed out with a grin that assured her he wasn't criticizing her. "I don't know why it's a surprise."
"It's not," said Val. "Joking." The silence was unbearably awkward.
"So, hey, we made it to state!" Tyler said, switching subjects. "This is great!"
"Yeah, fantastic." No, Val, say something intelligent. Because this is not helping. "Thanks for the football." Not helping, not helping, not HELPING! "It was really nice of you."
"Hey, I don't have room for it," Tyler told her with a smile. "I was hoping you could give me back my keyboard and make room for it in your room."
"Never. Brooke would kill me." Val laughed with her statement. "But it was sweet. Really, really sweet."
Excuse me, Miss Overachiever, but SWEET? I mean, he's going to notice… if he hasn't already. You know what, take a break, argued her other mind voice. Val felt like she was going to be ripped in two, listening to her inner voices banter. I mean, he hasn't noticed yet… and it's not like she hasn't used the line before. Yeah, my point exactly. Get new material! It's starting to show. Hey, look at me, I like Tyler Connell! Yeah, I said: I
L-O-V-E T-Y-L-E-R C-O-N-N-E-L-L! Yeah! Go Cobras, shake, shake—
"Shut up!" screeched Val. Tyler stepped back and looked at her.
"Excuse me?" he asked tentatively. Val sighed. Great, good position.
"Sorry," she apologized. "I was just, you know, voices in my head and all."
"Yeah. I know what you mean." He was relieved she hadn't been talking to him. Very relieved.
"But," Val said, going back to the subject at hand, "it was sweet of you to give me the football. I mean, you didn't have to."
"I wanted to."
Their eyes locked, and suddenly Val was moving towards him and he was moving towards her and her eyes were closing and—
"Hey!" David Dougherty yelled into Tyler's ear. They jumped apart.
Man, that always happens. We're missing the show here! Let's give a course on how not to interrupt when people are about to kiss. We can call it—"Kissing and Interrupting—When The Time Is Right." Good. And add 101 to the end. It sounds more professional. Good, very good. We can book Val and Tyler and Mr. "Let's celebrate with voices and not lips!" Dougherty. You, my partner, have a brilliant mind. What a coincidence, since we share one!
Val struck them out of her thoughts with a sledgehammer and slowly turned away.
Goody, goody, cake, cake, CAKE!
Val paid no more attention to her voices. Her own personal thoughts were complicated enough.
I have died, I have been beatenI have killed, answer me
There are lives that have been taken
And in the end it all comes down to me
So lift me up, the air is cold
The grass is green, the sun is bright
Lift me up, the world is turning
I want the sun and no more night
I'm too far gone, I'm far too old
Anything for the gold
By this time, anything for the gold For the gold
Ouch, don't kill me if it stunk. But I like Val, and I like Tyler, and since fics like Simple To The Mind are more of a third person focused on Tyler, I wanted a third person omnipresent or third person focused on Val. So voila, I've written one, though it may change in later chapters. Oh, and who likes Val's voices? Maybe I'll name the italicized one Penelope and the bold one Marge. Any ideas? Yeah, I'll stop rambling and let you get to the important part—
REVIEW!
~Ivy Leaves