Chapter 5
MASON
It’s a chilly September night after a week of sweltering heat.
The crowd bubbles with excitement. A sea of maroon and gold, with cardboard cutouts of hornets and various player numbers.
Mason knows that football is popular. High school made that clear. But college football is a whole other beast. He has to pay to get a ticket, and it seems like there're hundreds of people here, all to see Callum most likely.
Even in college, Callum is practically royalty. The gargantuan poster of him on the quad is a clear insignia of his popularity.
Jenna’s words from the dining hall still ring in Mason’s head.
The more he tries to devalue Callum, the worse he feels about writing the piece.
He’s tried to distract himself whenever he feels his fists clench at the thought or sight of Callum instead of letting himself ruminate over him.
He has to focus on his studies, and he has to make sure he can get into The Goldberg, that much is certain.
Now that he’s in the stands with a pen and notepad in hand, his mental exercise seems to have benefitted him.
Jenna was originally supposed to come, but she’s a tough love friend. She didn’t want to hold Mason’s hand. She wanted him to go alone.
He curses Jenna for her tough love, but deep down he appreciates it. It pushes him to do better.
She promised to go to another game if he ended up having to come to another one.
He observes the crowd. He puts a hand over his eyes to block the blinding fluorescent light from the stands. He tries to see if anyone is specifically cheering on Callum.
He sees a poster saying “Turn that Brown upside down.”
He snorts. He sees another saying “Brown of Glory,” and he laughs.
People are creative, he has to give them that. It almost makes him feel giddy to see so much support for someone. There used to be a time when he felt that way about Callum.
It tugs at something inside him, something deep and covered in dust, like an untouched book from one of the shelves of the library.
Mason used to think the football field made the players seem untouchable, like they were players on a screen and followed some kind of script instead of playing an actual game. But now, he understands that it’s all a part of the game.
It’s fun to belong with the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen… the home opening game of the season for the Hornets!” a booming male voice announces over the speakers. Everyone suddenly gets out of their seats, stands up, and starts cheering.
Cheerleaders are jumping and cheering on the sidelines as crewmen line up and put a poster of the Hornets team in front of the locker room entrance. The football team pummels through the picture, tearing through it seamlessly.
Mason thought movies and TV shows that showed football games were mere exaggerations, but it’s reality. The cheerleaders, the screaming fans, and the grand entrances. It really is larger than life.
Even Mason is buzzing with excitement. He feels like he is a part of something bigger by just watching.
Profiles of each player pop up on the screen, their stats and player numbers appearing beside their serious and neutral faces.
Finally, Callum’s pops up. Quarterback. Number four.
His piercing brown eyes make Mason’s skin prickle with anticipation. Like he’s about to square off with Callum.
Mason scans the field for a four and he sees it. They all have their helmets on, but Mason can tell Callum by the way he walks with conviction, like he knows exactly where he wants to go and what his next move is, like he’s playing chess.
Growing up, everyone underestimated Callum’s ability to plan and execute effectively. He was always ten steps ahead of everyone else. That’s why he’s quarterback now.
Mason shakes his head, forgetting that he’s somehow complimenting Callum in his head, but he chalks it up to the uproar of the crowd and their cheers for him.
He’s being mind tricked into it.
Callum stalks over to the sidelines and waves at the crowd like he’s a celebrity.
Technically, he is. The signs and fanfare prove it.
He takes off his helmet quickly to get a better look at the crowd. It’s his first at-home game of the college season after all, and he’s already amassed a large fanbase in his freshman year before Mason arrived.
He scans the crowd, his eyes quickly skirting over Mason. His eyes go past Mason, but then magnetically find their way back to Mason’s.
His jaw slackens slightly and his winning smile falters ever so slightly with his parted lips.
Somehow, Callum looks like he’s two feet shorter and looks like the same boy that shared his PB they’re all patting him on the back and shaking his shoulders playfully.
Mason smiles and goes back to scribbling in his notebook. After a few minutes, the players walk back to the locker rooms, passing by the bleachers.
Callum looks back up into the crowd and searches it, like he’s looking for someone specific.
His eyes land on Mason again, who can’t help but let a small smile escape, trying to mask how high he feels over the crowd.
The energy from the crowd is contagious. He’s caught whatever he’s been so cynical about.
But it’s ridiculous for him to think Callum is the reason he’s happy. The crowd makes him feel more school spirit, that’s what it really is, surely.
Callum’s eyes meet Mason’s and his toothy grin turns into a closed-mouth smile. He gives a single nod to Mason in acknowledgement, then stalks into the locker room alongside the other players.
Mason’s heartbeat picks up, and he watches Callum run to the locker room like he’s a bird of prey circling its next meal.
Callum disappears and Mason sits back down on the bench, wondering why he suddenly feels so out of breath, like he’s been the one on the field running for the past three hours.
He shakes his head and focuses back on his notebook. He starts reading it back to himself, and his breathing halts as he realizes he’s almost completely written his article about Callum.
He’s barely talked about anyone else. It’s all Callum. His speed. His commanding presence. His throws. His confidence.
Mason closes his eyes and feels his cheeks heat up. There’s no way he’s going to give Callum the satisfaction. He wants to rip the pages out, crumple them up, and throw them into the garbage a few rows below him.
The whole team contributed to their win, not just Callum. Callum doesn’t deserve any more praise than what the crowd already gave him tonight. He doesn’t need yet another glowing article like Mason used to green light once in a while in the Northwood High paper.
But Mason can’t deny it. Callum’s focus never wavered. He’s ridiculously fast. His talent is glaringly evident.
He slams his notebook closed. He’ll come back to it another day when he isn’t feeling like he’s a part of some cult.
For him to gush about Callum would mean he’s forgiven him. And Mason doesn’t think he ever can after what Callum did.
Mason gets up and hightails it out of the bleachers, his shoes feeling heavier as he runs down the steps and onto the concrete.
He takes one final look at the field, as if to remind himself that his time here was real and had a valid reason.
A playback of Callum’s touchdown plays on the Jumbotron. Mason can see Callum’s smile through his helmet, and Mason smiles back at the screen. For a moment it’s the same smile Callum had when he was eight. That toothy, cheek-reddening smile that Callum loved to give only to Mason.
Mason looks down at the concrete and stalks back to his dorm building.
He’s hoped, wished, and ached for that boy to still be there. That underneath all the bravado and cockiness, there is a boy who lost his mother and only wanted to escape from Northwood with his best friend.
To escape from all the pressure and expectations they had from their parents.
Mason still feels the same way. He wishes he could still escape the iron fist his mom has on him.
He wonders if Callum still feels the same.
He watches the replay of Callum’s touchdown on the Jumbotron as it plays the Hornets getting touchdown after touchdown, and disappointment hits him again.
Mason can hope all he wants, but he knows it is pointless.
They are in college, and Callum has made his choice about who he associates with and the life that he wants.
It is always going to be football. It is never going to be Mason.
The Callum from his childhood is gone, and Mason isn’t ever going to see him again.