Evelyn Gets Educated

The first thing that strikes Evelyn as she walks into the stadium is the tension. Like humidity hanging in the air before the sky rips open. She can’t help but think of the many football games she’d attended, the fans sitting at the edge of their feet counting down the minutes until the national anthem so they could cheer and scream their heads off.

Shame they don’t have cheers.

She takes her place along a group of demure soccer moms and fresh-faced girls arm in arm with their dates, appearing every bit as innocent as they sit patient in their yellow jerseys and shirts, supporting the Trojans in body and spirit. She wonders what their fathers would think of their daughters cheering on the blood-curdling **** about to unfold on the field below.

She pulls her hoodie over her head and cradles herself as the wind blows through.

Didn’t count on that. Evelyn tsks. She’s frozen her ass on a field in forty degree weather, bitter cold, sweltering heat…you name it, she’s performed in it, getting her ass and legs bruised and cut for her trouble. Yet somehow it feels different from up here.

Because I’m a spectator, that’s why.

She snffles and reaches into her purse. She sneezes into the tissue and stuffs it back inside, hoping no one would notice. At this rate she wouldn’t be too surprised if developed a cold by the end of next week. It serves her right for coming out here, when she’d rather spend her evening doing something else.

Emphasis on the ‘something else’.

The crowd stands in unison as the national anthem is played. As Evelyn sings along with them, she can’t help but wonder what to expect when Christina’s team pours onto the field. It’d been a long time since she’d even played. The last time Evie kicked the ball was seventh grade, and that was in a private school.

Can’t believe they kicked me out. She shakes her head. But they filed for bankruptcy, so it all evens out. So much for Christian charity…

At last the song closes and the festivities get started in earnest. As the home team runs into the field, the crowd erupts into a chorus of estrogen laden screams. It’s not five minutes before the coin toss. As the Trojans takes their positions, Evelyn looks around, feeling out of it for the first time in ages. She sits on pins and needles, growing increasingly frustrated as the ball is traded around by the Tigers and the home team for at least thirty minutes with not a score to their credit.

“Get it over with already!” She yells.

The outburst earns her not a few stares.

“Sorry.” She sheepishly confesses. “This is my first time at a game, so…”

The crowd returns its focus to the action, sending more positive thoughts Christina’s way as they cheer their team on. The lack of a score this deep into the game makes the cheerleader wish Christina played basketball instead. At least the game is livelier. She grips her soda tightly, almost spilling it over her brand new jeans.

“Fuckin’ ballers.” She curses under her breath. “Makes the LA Galaxy look like Manchester United.”

At last—forty five minutes into the game—The Trojans score a goal. The crowd erupts into applause.

Finally. Evelyn breathes a sigh of relief.

It’s another twenty minutes before there’s another goal. But at least they’re making a dent in it. Shame there’s only ninety minutes in these things instead of two hours.
The Tigers tears through the home team’s defenses, earning themselves a goal for once. At 2-1, the game looks set for a tie. The crowd sits anxiously, awaiting their squad’s response. The team captain calls time out. For five minutes Christina and company huddles in a corner as the suspense builds.

Suddenly like demons they sweep the field, taking possession of the ball as they invade their opponent’s turf. The away team flails in confusion as they try to block the onslaught of yellow jerseys in their midst. At seventy minutes mark the score is tipped 4-1 in their favor, rarely unheard of in the sport.

There is little the opposing team can do but try to block the Trojans from making any more goals. This they do successfully to their credit—there’s a reason they’re known for playing offense. Shame they can’t put that energy into offense as well.
At last the game is called. The crowd erupts in cheers once more before dispersing, leaving a trail of Dixie cups and litter in their wake.

Evelyn sits awhile, curious as to what she should do.

“Anything wrong, ma’am?” A kindly security guard asks.

“No, sir. Just waiting for someone.”

“You know the game’s over right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Tell you what. Im’ma going to give you five more minutes. But then you gotta scoot, you hear what I’m sayin’?”

Evelyn nods appreciatively. She waits until the rent-a-cop moves on before showing herself out, sneaking through the back entrance of the stadium. She arrives in the clubhouse just in time to see Christina and her squadmates walk out in their jeans and sweaters, lugging their gear.

“’Scuzz me.” One girl shoves herself past the cheerleader.

“Christina?” Evelyn murmurs.

A player whips around and stares her down.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Evelyn, Christina’s um, friend. She invited me backstage, as it were.”
The team shoots a look at her squad mate.

“Is this the girl you’ve been telling us about?”

Christina nods.

“What you’ve done is wrong.” The teen burns her eyes into Evelyn’s. “How’d you feel if we insulted one of your cheerleaders? C’mon Christina, this girl’s a nut.”

“I can make it up to you all, I promise!”

Christina stops her squad mid-stride.

“She’s right.” She glances pensively at her foe. “That’s why I invited her here in the first place.”

“This girl ruined your life, Chrissie.” One team member calls out. “If you ask me she’s the one who should be feeling sorry, not you.”

“I know what it looks like. I just thought if she got to know us better she’d be a little less…judgey.”

“This ain’t a sleepover.”

“Bible says to turn the other cheek. Anyway, I’m thirsty. C’mon gals, what do you say? Bury the hatchet?”

A susurration of whispers echoes around the corridor as the team converses amongst itself.

“Okay, Chrissie.” The team captain reluctantly agrees. “But nothing good can come of this.”

“Okay then.” She motions Evelyn forward. “I know this great bar downtown. Who wants to join me?

No one objects.