I do not own anything, just my ideas.

Chapter 63

Becoming

TOBIAS

Tris starts to return back to herself.

It is piece by piece, and it doesn't happen all at once.

For some time, she would be buried in a book. She said the entire group was assigned to read it. At first, she sounded annoyed with the very mention of homework from therapy. But I would catch her sneaking glimpse between moments, folding the corner of pages with awed excitement, and grabbing the nearest writing utensil to jot down a thought among the black and white lines.

One night, we were hanging out on her rooftop. I could sense the bite of winter creeping in and trying to push out the steady fall. It feels like each year is the same, Chicago goes from 80 degrees and sunny to 40 degrees and cloudy in an instant. The quickness feels harsh. Unlike when winter goes to spring, and it so slow and steady.

Tris was huddled under a blanket and swallowed by my sweatshirt reading while I played a game on my phone.

She gasped, "How did she do that?"

"What?" I said, my attention going to the annoyed and surprised look on her face.

"This author, she took a metaphor of a door bell on a house and just went and made a perfect analogy to life itself. My mind is just so blown." Then, more softly, Tris says, "She gets it. She gets the black."

For a while there, Tris went deeper in herself with reading and writing and drawing, then there was a shift.

It must have happened in Group, because she called me to push our Saturday morning plans to the afternoon. Group was going to spend the morning volunteering. That was the extent of her descriptions of the morning. And that seemed to be growing theme of her talking about Group – vaguely and not very much at all.

It was her sacred place. A place that was hers and hers alone. At first, I didn't like that – we were a team, and a team sticks together and does things together. But I quickly got out of my own pig head. It was normal and probably for the better that we had our own things. We weren't the type to just blend into each other and lose ourselves.

She was dusk blue and I was stark white. Together, we make clear blue sky – but we don't stay in that blended way. Occasionally, we go back to that beautiful blue. But more often, we stay our colors, are seen by our colors, and loved by our colors. Something about existing as myself instead of completely disappearing sounds better.

So Tris started volunteering. Once a week turned into twice a week. Tris would sometimes go alone on a whim without the rest of the Group. I offered to with her, but she politely shot the idea down. She needed something that was her own.

She started doing her healing outside of herself, and that somehow helped much better than healing within herself. There is something about not go too deep inside your own head that heals it so much stronger.

When she sensed my itch to be sky blue, she suggested nature walks. And not our typical runs down the 606 or training. It had to be purposeless. We would carve out days to drive out of the denseness of the concrete and steel city, and we found ourselves facing the stillness of nature. We spent hours just walking in silence, absorbing the peace and expectation-less reality of the immediate world around us. There was something about all those things combined that felt more fulfilling than any workout or vice could provide.

"Don't think," she would say. "Just…be."

And I just was.

Reject the external pressure. Revel in the stillness of not knowing. Rise after falling. Question the status quo. Prepare to fail in order to succeed.

All easier said than done. But it's not as scary. I want and deserve more.

There is still work to do, for both of us.

But each part of her that returns is stronger and better than before. Mended.

I stare out the window at the spectacle in front of me. A deep wave of school colors is stretched for the length of the parking lot.

Spectators, family, friends, fans – they all build their energy off of each other. There are folding tables laid out with the lot of food, drinks and posters. I can smell the few grilles that made the trip as they rage against the November chill. Folks distribute hand warmers and headbands/gloves with the school mascot on them. The cars encircling the group have various car paint that match the same theme as the masses within the circle.

Our bus pulls to a stop in front of the large facility where the Illinois HS Football State Finals game will be played. Our fans got a jump on a very enthusiastic tailgate party.

Our coach snaps us out of the trance of the spectacle.

"Gentlemen. Now, I want you to tune that out. Take that energy, but don't revel in it. Don't get distracted by the shiny stuff out here. Our attention is in there," he points to the stadium, the opposite direction of the tailgate party. "We have worked very hard all year to get here. Let's not waste this moment. Think of your teammates and the work we have to do."

I comply. I hit play on my pre-game playlist. We unload from the bus and make our way inside. It is one of the nicest facilities I have played in. I feel like I should be buzzed, excited, but something feels off. I have a feeling, and I can't really explain it.

I get dressed the way I have before every game, almost going through the motions too much. I do the same stretches, out of pre-game superstition and engrained routine. I warm up with my teammates.

The stands start to fill. Like any other game, I begin the process of tuning it out.

There is pressure to make a decision. That decision. I know there are certain personnel in the crowd that are watching and hoping for that decision. My father, his new friends I call recruiters, old coaches who laid the ground work, all look on me. All my life has led to one end game – win this title and go play Football in college.

The hours of training and growing stronger have compiled to this moment. It makes me feel nauseous. I don't get nervous for games beyond the 'normal' jitters. The unease comes from more than just the game. All this build up, and what if I make the wrong decision? What if I make a mistake? What if I am the mistake?

"Yo. You ready?" Zeke playfully slaps me on the back and breaks me out of my spiral.

I muster my confidence. "The question is are they ready?" I nod over to the other team.

Zeke laughs. "You have some fight?! LETS GO!"

There are 4 seconds left in this game. And that means there is one more play left make or break this moment. The scoreboard illuminates 31-27, and we are down 4 points.

I huddle with our teammates as we circle our coaches in the last timeout of the game.

A field goal is out of the question. It is score a touchdown or nothing-at-all situation.

The nerves mix with the buzz of the moment and energy of stadium around us.

As we break out of our huddle with a play that we perfected a hundred times in practice, coach says, "Eaton – you can do this."

I know I can. I know we can.

This is it. And despite the cheers, the sound, the energy – it feels like everything goes quite.

I gather at the line.

The ball snaps, gathering in my hands. I shuffle back.

My eyes dart, land on Zeke, and we make our connection for the millionth time.

My arms goes back and then forward…and the ball flies through the air.

Time stands still.

And in this moment, I realize that I could live with whatever outcome happens. For the past year, I have agonized about winning this game and proving myself. But I have come to understand that it isn't just a game.

It was a way for me to heal myself.

It was a safe haven from the danger I saw at home.

It was a place I could be myself.

I didn't need to be anyone but the football guy. And that was a safe place for me to be for a long time. It was a constant I could cling to in the unsteadiness of home.

But just like a favorite pair of jeans in middle school, I grew out of it.

I don't belong to Football, or any of its people. I belong to myself, and my self is telling me that there is so much more out there for me to grow into.

And I decide.

No matter the outcome, this was my last season.

This part of my life – football – is over.

Because there is so much more out there for me. There is so much more out there for me to become.

The gasp of the crowd brings me back to real life in front of me, happening right now.

Zeke caught the ball, but he was stopped a handful of yards before the end zone. I look at the score board.

0:00.

A buzzer goes off, and the crowd wearing the other colors erupts in cheers.

A collective sinking happens to the crowd wearing my colors.

Zeke takes an extra second to get up. I shuffle over there and offer him my hand.

"I'm sorry, man. I couldn't break that tackle."

I take a beat before answering him. "It's just a game."

"It's not. Doesn't seem that simple. This was everything."

I almost say something more, but I bite it back. Now isn't the time to go all philosophical. Not everyone has a life altering epiphany in the final seconds of a game. Trying to move on too fast from the defeat will invalidate the disappointment we all feel – regardless fo the level of disappointment.

Now is the time to be upset. Now is the time to feel it all.

Tomorrow we start the next journey.

Author's Note

Hi readers that are still out there (and those new to the story and journey)! I recently read Untamed by Glennon Doyle, and if you have read it too, you'll notice a lot of her quotes and themes scattered through this chapter and future ones. If you have not read this book, I HIGHLY recommend it! This chapter has a special place in my heart because I also was an athlete that retired after high school.

This story really is coming to an end. I have a lot of the Epilogue written, and I am trying to find the best way to bridge the current state to that place.

There is a lot I could get into during senior year, but I will try to avoid what too many television shows do – try to lengthen a story and arch for the sake of extending it.

There may be more story to write for these characters – adventures of senior year! – but for now, I think I will leave that as a place to come back to if the time and inspiration comes. Or if another writer wants to do it.

I will try to get the end of this story soon. The epilogue is already something so special to me because it feels like the full circle moment for myself, and where I see myself now vs. the beginning of this story. When I started the story, I was like Tris and in high school and the drama and 'life altering moments' seemed to never end. Now I am a little older (with lots more learning and growing to do), but it feels like I can look back on that time knowing that things work out.

Speaking of working out – a quick story for those of you who care (probably not that many). When this chapter gets published, I will be getting ready to be on a suitcase assignment for work. Ironically, my long term boyfriend has been on a suitcase assignment for his work for 2 months. AND we will be working and living in the same city – working for different companies doing different jobs but in the same city. It will be the start of a crazy exciting adventure (in a major southwest city – see if you can guess).

I'll see you at the next update!

Be brave, everyone.

QUOTES

1). "Humans are vulnerable because they are capable of getting hurt." – Hush Hush, book

2). "People have scars. In all sorts of unexpected places. Like secret road maps of their personal histories. Diagrams of all their old wounds. Most of our wounds heal, leaving nothing behind but a scar. But some of them don't. Some wounds we carry with us everywhere and though the cut's long gone, the pain still lingers." – Grey's Anatomy, television show

3). "I don't know why we all hang on to something we know we are better off letting go of. It's like we're scared to lose what we don't even really have. Some of us say we'd rather have something than absolutely nothing. But the truth is, to have is halfway is harder than not having it all." – Grey's Anatomy, television show

4)."You will have so many times you fail that you will not remember. The key is, when you fail, do not begin calling yourself a failure." – 101 Secrets For Your Twenties

5). "Just because you've escaped something, doesn't mean its tentacles still don't poison you. We all have shrapnel that we need to remove." – 101 Secrets For Your Twenties

6)."People like to say that what I did was heroic, but it wasn't. It was just a thing that I had to do. I think people like to have a hero. It makes them feel better to think that they are in the middle of all that horror, and there is someone special doing miracles. I don't have special super powers." I pause. "One thing I will take away from this: Being a hero has its price." – Grey's Anatomy, television show

Congratulations to: Guest

There are 2 (book, book) quotes in this chapter.