Where I need to be
Tears clouded my sight, blurring the silver and blue of the seats in front of me. I blinked them away angrily while my grip tightened around my yellow sports bag. I chose this place in the back of the VTA bus 22 on Purpose, not willing to let somebody see my childish behaviour. Slowly the bus began to drive and the image of the Santa Clara Transit Center changed to wandering buildings. I sobbed quietly, rubbing my eyes dry with my left arm.
A sad smile danced across my face as the thought of Joe crossed my mind. If he could see me now! He wouldn't believe I was the girl that smiled just a few days ago the brightest smile of her life being entirely happy with a promised future that other people couldn't even dream of. But that was the reason I rushed out of the Santa Clara University with the lone intention of getting away. The reason I got in the first bus I saw without any plans. This bus could drive forever and I still would be happy to be in it because I wasn't on college ground. Joe would be disappointed.
When we arrived, Jules and I were stunned by the big area that spread before us. Jules made a joke about us getting lost, eyes glimmering with joy. There were more than a dozen Cafés, so you could really eat the whole day, even vegetarians would get their money's worth. We loved the bright green parks with their pretty, colourful flowers and blooming trees and the reddish and beige coloured houses that were numerous. I doubted that I would find the way to my courses in time. Another great thing about Santa Clara was: you could learn everything. Amongst other things there were many languages you could study. I had been tied between Italian and French and had to draw lots in order to decide. In the end, Jules had settled for German while I had taken Italian. There were many skillfully done statues and cute benches and many students walking around. It was a frightening and exciting moment at the same time.
Like we were instructed before, we went more or less straight to our Residential Learning Community which was a little community of first-years and some older students who lived and took classes together, shared each other's thoughts and helped each other. It was like your alternative family especially when it came to surviving the first year. We had to go to bed quickly that day because the sun was already vanishing on the horizon when we eventually found the RLC. Nevertheless, I was still looking forward to the following days, excited to prove that I really deserved this scholarship.
This feeling changed two hours ago. You would think that people with a football scholarship were actually playing football but Jules' and my first contact with a ball in America was just today. Three days after our arrival! Okay, the head coach Jerry Smith had been ill and the second one had been still on vacation but it did pull me down a bit.
However, a few hours ago Jules and I were told to get up for a little football match. We played with some of our RLC mates, namely a shy but tall and strong girl called Jenny, the Asian Jin Hana, a Beautiful, tanned girl with curly hair whose name was Garcia, and two other ones I couldn't remember. The remaining ones I hadn't seen before.
Just when I stepped on the pitch, fully dressed in my sports clothes, I knew something was wrong. It was as if my legs just didn't want to hold my weight. I gulped and closed my eyes for a heartbeat before I jogged halfheartedly beside her. The usual energy didn't want to fly up.
The whistle blew and the match started.
It was so quick. Everyone seemed to be so quick. One moment the ball was rolling in front of me, nicely passed to me by Jules. I kicked it forward, wanted to follow it. The next moment I was on my stomach after tripping over my own feet. Everything blurred when the air was pressed out of my lungs but I grinded my teeth and stood up shaking the dirt off my hands and clothes. "What was that?!", Jules asked with raised eyebrows approaching me. I simply shook my head.
"Let's rock this match!", I retorted with a more confident voice than I felt as we moved after the ball which was overtaken by a player of the opposing team. I gulped when I saw the neat movements of the shorthaired girl, out dribbling our defensive. Just a reaching hand of our goalkeeper Jenny saved us.
The time went by in a blur after that. I tried and moved and kicked but I couldn't get a grip on the match. Everyone seemed so skilled and although I know I could and had done better I couldn't help feeling intimidated and overwhelmed. A few minutes until the end I got the ball again. Nobody scored yet. Although the other team has gotten more chances, our goalkeeper did hold every ball greatly.
Finally some weak rays of energy flooded through my veins as I zig-zagged across the pitch and reached the halfway line until it happened. I pulled my foot back and shot the ball over to where I thought Garcia was standing.
It was caught midway by the shorthaired girl – Felicity as I remembered now – who smirked and shot the ball powerfully directly to her awaiting fellow player. I was paralyzed and numb while I watched the ball flying in the right corner of the net dodging the hands of Jenny. Goal.
I felt sick and slowly shook my head, unwilling to proceed what had happened. In the background I noticed the whistle of the referee showing that the match had ended. I turned around looking at Jules, in her open, widened eyes. Then I snapped.
I sprinted, still in my sports clothes, off the pitch, grabbing my almost empty sports bag while running. I needed fresh oxygen. The air was suddenly too thick to breathe.
And here I was. Feeling as if I disappointed the whole world. Why had they given me this scholarship in the first place? I had played so unbelievingly bad today. I did not deserve this honour.
A few moments passed in which I just hugged myself looking thoughtlessly out of the bus window when I felt the need to stand up. The bus stopped miraculously right in this instant and I left it gloomily with the sports bag hanging on my shoulders. I could peer at the time display and wondered about how little time had passed. Only ten minutes.
I took the first street that came up – the Pierce Street told a sign in bold black letters. I followed it down, my eyes focused on the street while a breeze whirled through my hair and the setting sun casted the tall outline of my shadow before me. I didn't want to think about what had happened. I fought back an upcoming sob as the picture of Jules disbelieving expression crossed my mind.
Suddenly – after I had walked a bit - something different than the grey asphalt caught my eye. I stared at the cute little chalk drawing of a head sized butterfly with large pink and red wings. However, it was soon covered by a rolling piece of white chalk which I quickly grasped to prevent it from getting lost. I looked up to see three little 4 or 5-year-olds drawing silently and concentrated with chalk on the grey ground creating a giant fruit tree that was covered by berries, apples, bananas, grapes and pears, and surrounded by other butterflies and bees. I was amazed at how much work it must have been.
Something yanked lightly my left fingertips. I turned in a heartbeat and faced a fourth child. The blonde girl grinned, let go of my hand and pointed to the chalk in my right hand. "Could you give me my chalk back, lady, please?"
"Of course, little one," I retorted nodding and trying to smile but failing miserably because of my depressed mood. She opened her palm and I let the chalk piece slide in. I thought that she would go straightly back to join her friends but she didn't move.
A frown appeared on her face when she studied me thoroughly. "Why do you look so sad, lady?"
I felt caught and blushed in an instant. Little kids really do seem to see through you. Or it was just so obvious. "I have disappointed someone," I whispered quietly looking down. "I failed. There was this match and I failed. I should have been the female Becks, bending the ball… but I disappointed the team and my best friend."
She tilted her head and seemed to consider it while I asked myself why I had told her all these things, a strange girl who probably did not even know David Beckham. But I felt lighter now. It was as if a rock had been taken away from my chest so I could breathe again. A little smile showed up on my face when I recognized the tiny freckles on her cheeks.
"Did they say that to you?" she asked eventually. I shrugged my shoulders. "No, not really."
"You shouldn't be sad! You see…" She pointed at the other children. "My friends and I would never abandon someone of us. Sometimes someone would draw a wrong branch or so…" I looked up to a smudgy butterfly she gestured to. It was clear that there had been another chalk drawing before and the butterfly was drawn above the smeared image. "But in the end having fun is the most important thing. When you have fun doing something you get better in it. There are bad days but life is more than trying to stay the best and losing the fun. I think you should just go to your friends and say sorry and have fun and everything's alright!" She flashed her white teeth while smiling a lovingly and bright smile.
And I believed her in this moment. Why should I let this one mistake take me down? I was good at football, more than good. I shouldn't feel this pressured about being at my bests. I should be having the fun that I had before I came to America. My heart grew warm with joy and I nodded energetically.
"You're right, thank you very much!" I exclaimed while starting to go backwards. Suddenly I couldn't wait for returning to the university and the team. I waved one last time watching her happily joining her friends before I turned and began to run.
A quote of Guru Granth Sahib Ji crossed my thoughts. "I seldom end up where I wanted to go, but I always end up where I need to be." I now understood the need I felt in the bus. I needed to hear these things from someone. I needed this girl. And now my team needed me.