Dear My Childhood Friend

Chapter 4

The Friday home game was a rowdy one.

The bleachers were packed with Northwood students and family, all wearing the school colors. Red and Blue. Shouting and cheering until their throats were sore. The marching band paraded across the field, all their shiny brass instruments catching the late afternoon sun. Cheerleaders practiced their pom-pom skills at the concession stands. Northwood's Sabertooth mascot was wandering around, entertaining a cluster of grinning, giggling freshmen.

I stood at the edge of the field, clicking my camera in preparation for the yearbook. My camera bag was full of extra batteries, and I kept the lens focused on the harsh lights overhead. It was a really nice camera. It made me feel proud every time I captured my subject well.

"Amelie! Get over here!"

Marcus Chen waved enthusiastically from the sidelines of the bleachers,

his editor-in-chief clipboard pinned to his chest

"What do you need?" I asked, lowering my camera to accept the folded note from his hand.

"Get some pictures of the student section. Their rowdiness. The school spirit. The everything"

"How about those screaming teenagers losing their minds over a ball?"

"Exactly like that.”

“Anything else you want me to take?”

"Some cheerleaders at halftime during their routine. A couple of shots of the team running onto the field." He scanned the pages on his clipboard. "Candid shots of the fans too. Hugging, high fives. Ms. Reeves wants an authentic feel this year."

"Authentic high fives. Really?"

Marcus was already making his way to another photographer today before he could answer me, berating some poor, confused sophomore on how to use their camera. I turned towards the sea of people on the bleachers and spotted the student section. A colorful riot of waving signs, cheering with the fight song, and shouting chants. There were red and blue painted faces everywhere, and NORTHWOOD scrawled across shirts. The students were hugging, laughing, having the time of their lives.

I raised my camera and clicked a couple of photos.

My shutter clicked furiously, first on a group of shouting seniors, arms slung over each other's shoulders, then an adorably grinning freshman with an entire sabertooth mascot painted onto his face. Two girls screaming, their heads tangled in a mass of bead necklaces. I liked these pictures. I liked them because they were candid. People didn't expect me to click a picture, so I got real emotion, real faces, instead of the usual, stiff angles and unnatural smiles.

The marching band struck up the fight song. The student section stood, stampeding around the field. I wound my way along the sideline, snapping pictures of the band and cheerleaders. Jessica Alverez was extra loud and happy, her golden ponytail bobbing with every bounce she did during the fight song. I'd managed to capture a few shots of her, and couldn't wait to show them to Marcus.

The announcer's voice blared over the loudspeaker. "Northwood Sabertooth versus Crystal Falls Cougars."

The student section screamed. The team jogged onto the field, the masses of students chanting their names, louder and louder. They had an impressive entrance, with every player entering in a single-file line. I focused my camera on the cluster of red and blue jerseys, the shinier helmets catching the stadium lights. I captured them in the middle of an excited stretch, their muscles tight and tensed like springs.

There he was. Number 12. Leading the pack, waving and yelling into the student section. Weston Pierce had a magnetic smile, the kind of smile half the female population of Northwood was hopelessly devoted to. The student section became feral, chanting his name in a rhythmic, pounding rhythm. I focused my lens on his face behind the metal bars of his helmet. He looked exceptionally pleased with himself, the infuriating grin he always wore stretched across his face. His eyes scanned the massive group of cheering, screaming teenagers that had risen to their feet.

Click.

I lowered my camera to review the shot. It was a very nice picture, if I might say so myself. The lighting was perfect, not a cloud in the sky. The subject was also annoyingly photogenic. I noted to myself to let Marcus know, and turned my camera back to the game.

The first quarter was a blur. Northwood scored early, and the student section became feral. I wandered up and down the line of the field, my fingers clicking photos of the players' benches, coaches' shouts, and water boys who were sprinting back and forth to refill. By half-time I had almost three hundred photos to go through. My arms felt sore, my fingers numb from the constant clicking. The marching band paraded across the field in their usual, dazzling uniforms. They were playing a myriad of popular songs, and while the student section was rather rowdy, it wasn't hard to see that most students were having a wonderful time. Some had wandered over to the food trucks, and others simply sat and watched. A relaxing time before the second half began.

"Getting some good shots?"

I turned to see a girl from the yearbook staff standing beside me. Hannah, I belatedly remembered. She was one of the new junior staff photographers, her notepad tucked in her hands.

"Yup. I think so, at least." I responded. "Marcus wanted candid shots, so I've been snapping what I can get."

She bobbed her head enthusiastically. "That's awesome! I'm adding captions to all the photos, so I need to write everything down." She hesitated, looking over my shoulder at my camera. "That's a really nice camera."

"Thanks. I saved up for it."

"Till you were practically broke, no doubt?"

It was a strange question. "I mean. Kind of. It's the dream, you know? Go to art school, get a degree in photography. Maybe work as a freelancer for a magazine."

Her face lit up. "That's so inspirational! I don't really know what I want to do. My mom and dad want me to be a doctor, but I'm not really sure"

I laugh at that. I couldn't help it, the statement was so absurd.

She let out a startled giggle. "I should get back to Marcus. He wants me to start working on all these captions immediately."

"He's always like that. You'll get used to him."

Hannah walked back towards the stands, and I raised my camera once again, focusing on the football field.

The second half was about to begin. Northwood was winning by ten. If they kept up this pace, the game would be over by the fourth quarter.

I snuck my way back towards the line of the field, getting a good spot along the fifty-yard line. The team was huddled, whispering orders and encouragement until the crowd roared to life, chanting the fight song.

The whistle blew, and the game resumed.

The next hour was spent focusing on the game, my camera snapping pictures of touchdowns and tackles alike. Weston Pierce was so amazingly good, he scored twice. I took pictures of everything I could get, my fingers flying across the trigger.

By the time the final whistle blew, Northwood had won 28-14, and the student section flooded the field in celebration. I stood and took it all in, documenting it with my camera.

The event was almost beautiful.

It was almost peaceful, despite the chaos.

I lowered my camera. The first game of the season was finally over.

Now all I had to do was edit all the photos and submit them to Marcus before the month ended, and do the same thing for every school event.

I turned towards the parking lot, the weight of my camera bag swaying at my hip. The night air was lovely as it nipped at my skin. One game down. Many more to come.