Post by Lydia Theresa Martin on Aug 5, 2013 11:03:19 GMT -5
Oh to be seventeen. Everlasting legs outstretched in front of you, listening to the greatest hits of Muse on your iPod, with your back against the cold and institutionally white gym wall. The wafting smell of Juicy Fruit was enough to overpower the smell of sweat for a moment until the quick wave of cheerleaders moving out of the changing rooms together faded out. That seemed the big difference between the jocks and the cheerleaders, the jocks seemed to be slowly dispersing slowly from the changing rooms as Lydia stood there, but the cheerleaders came all at once. Part of the girl standing back and waiting for her ex-boyfriend to come from the door beside her missed the days when she would have happily been part of the bubble gum scented group with their hair in high ponies, but she was happier tonight than she'd ever been down on that field waving her pom poms in the air.
She thought back fondly to the first time she got to cheer on one man, not a team, she got to feel the pride that came from him playing well and she got to support him the way that he supported her in other aspects of their lives. Back then their romance, while still donning training wheels, was that was of mutual support and clear adoration for one another. A lot of people would look on at this hopelessly happy high schooler and envy the ease of her life, a lot of people that don't know her of course. She wore burdens like they were silk scarves, delicately and easily, like they were irrelevant to her, she took on other people’s problems like she had none of her own and she very simply blocked her past out like it was a bad movie she'd resolved never to watch again and pushed the DVD to the back.
There was a lot that had changed since that first day on the field, in particularly, Lydia’s relationship with the lacrosse star that stole her heart. The day that he left her still made her heart feel heavy, much like many days in Lydia and Jackson’s history, the day he asked for the key to his house back and more than anything the day he died. The hell they’d been through was the reason she was how she was now… Comfortably numb. No one knew. Not really. To them, Lydia seemed to be just your average seventeen year old girl, dating seventeen year old boys, worrying about her hair and her clothes and attending high school lacrosse games. She almost didn't notice the familiar form emerge from the changing room over the music blaring through her ears, but as she straightened her body quickly and looked to him.
She had things in her head she’d wanted to say, things she planned it perfectly, even practiced in the mirror. However, seeing Jackson here, now, was completely different to vision she watched in the glass. She knew if this was a movie, she’d just stop him outside the door, announce her feelings and he’d take her in his arms and kiss her till her knees went weak. This wasn’t Hollywood, this was a small town and Lydia wasn’t the star of this movie. If she was, he would have taken her in his arms months ago, he’d have never let her go that night. All the words in her head now evaded her but she couldn’t just stand there in silence, so instead she just blurted out an excuse. “Jackson, hi! I was wondering if we could… Talk?”
