I walked down the locker room hallway to the stairs that lead to the
bleachers, my every footstep echoing against the concrete. It had been so
long since Peter had quite and I had never realized how very much I missed
it. I found a seat in the bottom row, right on the field. I stared out
across the grass lined with white, the goals, the opposite bleachers, the
scoreboard. I could almost hear the shouts of "Peter! Peter!" and see the
fans across the field wince with his every goal.
That day, his last. It would stay in my memory forever. I knew it would stay in every man's also who was on the team because that day because they had lost their best player. And they had been angry at him. They didn't know what I knew. I saw how it had torn up Peter inside. That night, when we got home, he had cried as he folded up his jersey and put it in his closet. They didn't know, they never would know, how much the game had meant to him, how much they had meant to him. But I did, and I always would. Only one person would ever know all that I knew about it. Adam sat down beside me.
"Are you alright?" he asked. I brushed the tears from my eyes.
"Ya," I answered.
"Lex isn't that badly hurt," he said. "It's just a bump on his shoulder and a little blood. You don't need to cry about it." I laughed.
"It's not that," I said.
"Oh." Adam said. "It's about Peter, eh?" I nodded. "I knew this field would bring back memories. That's why I never asked you to come back.and why I never expected to see you today." Adam put his arm around my shoulder. The men streamed out of the locker room, the familiar sea of green and gold, the men that I had cheered for what seemed ages ago. But there was a new one, Brahm written on the back of his jersey, and he smiled up at me as he came out, surrounded by his teammates. I gave him a thumbs-up and a smile.
"Alright now!" said Adam, getting up and walking up to the railing. "I know Syd's back, but I won't have any flirting from the field." There was a burst of laughter. "But I can't imagine that any of you are stupid enough anyway to try. You know she's mine." There were laughs and snorts from the group, and Adam looked back at me and winked deviously. He turned back to his team. "I want to see a normal game, gold against green. Hear me?"
"Aye, aye, cap'n!" came the normal response, so familiar to my ears that I couldn't help but smile at even that little bit of nostalgia. The men broke off into ranks. Peter had evidently explained the game excellently to Legolas, because he knew just what to do, and did he do it. One goal, two goals, three goals, four goals, Adam was on his feet and my throat was sore from screaming.
"I've never seen a man like this.his endurance.his speed.he is my saving grace.he's like an angelic answer to my prayers." muttered Adam. But I heard him. Of course I wasn't going to tell him that he wasn't a man at all, but an elf. And Legolas was so happy. He was smiling. His teammates were roaring. They couldn't get enough of him. He was the answer to their prayers. As the game ended, Legolas was the only one with still all the strength he had begun with. It seemed like a miracle. He would save the team. This year, they would be the top team of the top and Legolas would take them there. I knew it, no doubt in my mind. When the buzzer rang, a shout went up from Legolas' team and a surrendering moan from the opposite side that had hoped by some miracle they could even catch up. I ran down from the bleachers and sprinted across the field. Legolas caught me in a huge hug.
"You did it," I whispered. "They love you." Legolas smiled. I pulled away. "And you're not even sweaty at all."
"One secret of being an elf," he replied. I laughed. "Do you believe that they like me?" I slugged Legolas in the shoulder.
"Of course," I answered. "Did you hear them cheering?"
"Aye," he answered.
"That was all for you," I said. Legolas blushed. "Eh, you better get used to it. You're even better than Peter ever was. In fact, I feel bad for any team that's on this circuit. They're worse then dead." Adam came up just then.
"Great game, Lex!" he said, clapping him on the back. "You're definitely playing Wednesday. Practice tomorrow, skip it if you like."
"Nay - erm - no," replied Legolas. I could see him struggling to speak as we did. And he wasn't half bad. He could easily cover his native ways. "I could use the practice."
"And the guys could use your being here, you know, to boost their morale," said Adam. "Well, you better go get changed. Sydney, would you come here, please?"
"Of course," I answered. Legolas looked at me for a split second and then Michael and Evan rushed by dragging him off with shouts of "long live Lex!" Adam turned to me and offered me his arm. I took it and we walked away across the field.
"Lex.he's.brilliant. What do you know about him?" Adam asked.
"Well - erm," I said, having really no idea what to say. But then I remembered the documents. "He's 22. He went to a Nottingham University for Art and Math."
"But where's he from? I've never seen a man that looked like him," said Adam excitedly. "His cheekbones are so high and his hair.I don't even know. And his speech is a little bit odd. What country is he from?"
"Finland," I answered, trying to place in my head what nationality Legolas looked like. "He's Finnish."
"Oh, well, that would seem right, the Nordic look," replied Adam. "But his endurance.he didn't even break a sweat."
"Well, he's fit. What can I say?" I asked.
"He's such a Renaissance man," he said.
"More than you know." I muttered, recalling what Legolas first showed up wearing and acting like.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
That day, his last. It would stay in my memory forever. I knew it would stay in every man's also who was on the team because that day because they had lost their best player. And they had been angry at him. They didn't know what I knew. I saw how it had torn up Peter inside. That night, when we got home, he had cried as he folded up his jersey and put it in his closet. They didn't know, they never would know, how much the game had meant to him, how much they had meant to him. But I did, and I always would. Only one person would ever know all that I knew about it. Adam sat down beside me.
"Are you alright?" he asked. I brushed the tears from my eyes.
"Ya," I answered.
"Lex isn't that badly hurt," he said. "It's just a bump on his shoulder and a little blood. You don't need to cry about it." I laughed.
"It's not that," I said.
"Oh." Adam said. "It's about Peter, eh?" I nodded. "I knew this field would bring back memories. That's why I never asked you to come back.and why I never expected to see you today." Adam put his arm around my shoulder. The men streamed out of the locker room, the familiar sea of green and gold, the men that I had cheered for what seemed ages ago. But there was a new one, Brahm written on the back of his jersey, and he smiled up at me as he came out, surrounded by his teammates. I gave him a thumbs-up and a smile.
"Alright now!" said Adam, getting up and walking up to the railing. "I know Syd's back, but I won't have any flirting from the field." There was a burst of laughter. "But I can't imagine that any of you are stupid enough anyway to try. You know she's mine." There were laughs and snorts from the group, and Adam looked back at me and winked deviously. He turned back to his team. "I want to see a normal game, gold against green. Hear me?"
"Aye, aye, cap'n!" came the normal response, so familiar to my ears that I couldn't help but smile at even that little bit of nostalgia. The men broke off into ranks. Peter had evidently explained the game excellently to Legolas, because he knew just what to do, and did he do it. One goal, two goals, three goals, four goals, Adam was on his feet and my throat was sore from screaming.
"I've never seen a man like this.his endurance.his speed.he is my saving grace.he's like an angelic answer to my prayers." muttered Adam. But I heard him. Of course I wasn't going to tell him that he wasn't a man at all, but an elf. And Legolas was so happy. He was smiling. His teammates were roaring. They couldn't get enough of him. He was the answer to their prayers. As the game ended, Legolas was the only one with still all the strength he had begun with. It seemed like a miracle. He would save the team. This year, they would be the top team of the top and Legolas would take them there. I knew it, no doubt in my mind. When the buzzer rang, a shout went up from Legolas' team and a surrendering moan from the opposite side that had hoped by some miracle they could even catch up. I ran down from the bleachers and sprinted across the field. Legolas caught me in a huge hug.
"You did it," I whispered. "They love you." Legolas smiled. I pulled away. "And you're not even sweaty at all."
"One secret of being an elf," he replied. I laughed. "Do you believe that they like me?" I slugged Legolas in the shoulder.
"Of course," I answered. "Did you hear them cheering?"
"Aye," he answered.
"That was all for you," I said. Legolas blushed. "Eh, you better get used to it. You're even better than Peter ever was. In fact, I feel bad for any team that's on this circuit. They're worse then dead." Adam came up just then.
"Great game, Lex!" he said, clapping him on the back. "You're definitely playing Wednesday. Practice tomorrow, skip it if you like."
"Nay - erm - no," replied Legolas. I could see him struggling to speak as we did. And he wasn't half bad. He could easily cover his native ways. "I could use the practice."
"And the guys could use your being here, you know, to boost their morale," said Adam. "Well, you better go get changed. Sydney, would you come here, please?"
"Of course," I answered. Legolas looked at me for a split second and then Michael and Evan rushed by dragging him off with shouts of "long live Lex!" Adam turned to me and offered me his arm. I took it and we walked away across the field.
"Lex.he's.brilliant. What do you know about him?" Adam asked.
"Well - erm," I said, having really no idea what to say. But then I remembered the documents. "He's 22. He went to a Nottingham University for Art and Math."
"But where's he from? I've never seen a man that looked like him," said Adam excitedly. "His cheekbones are so high and his hair.I don't even know. And his speech is a little bit odd. What country is he from?"
"Finland," I answered, trying to place in my head what nationality Legolas looked like. "He's Finnish."
"Oh, well, that would seem right, the Nordic look," replied Adam. "But his endurance.he didn't even break a sweat."
"Well, he's fit. What can I say?" I asked.
"He's such a Renaissance man," he said.
"More than you know." I muttered, recalling what Legolas first showed up wearing and acting like.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."