Chapter 9: "First Glance"
1397 Words
Now, standing in the middle of the field with the sun beaming down on his skin, Hakeem wasn’t scared.
Football had always been his thing. His real concern wasn’t the game itself; it was everything else how to go about it here, in a new city, among new faces, where expectations felt like a weight pressed onto his shoulders.
He tugged at the hem of his jersey and sat down on the bench along the sidelines, waiting for the trials to begin. A low hum of chatter drifted through the field hopeful players stretching, tying their cleats, laughing nervously. Coaches in matching tracksuits reviewed their clipboards, whistles dangling from their necks.
But none of it mattered to Hakeem right then.
Because out of the corner of his eye, something someone caught his attention.
He turned his head slightly.
And there she was.
A girl. Not just any girl.
Curvy, but not overbearing the kind of natural shape that made you look twice without even thinking.
She was of average height, but she held herself like she was taller, like she owned every inch of space around her.
Her hair was dark, silky, flowing past her shoulders, catching the light of the afternoon sun.
Her skin was brown and shiny, almost golden, glowing with a healthy brilliance that seemed unreal like she had been painted with a soft brush dipped in honey.
She was laughing softly at something the head coach said as they walked together toward the field. Her hands moved as she spoke animated, graceful, confident.
In that moment, the world simply disappeared for Hakeem.
There was no noise, no wind, no heat from the sun, no murmuring players.
Everything blurred into the background.
It was just her.
Standing there.
Smiling.
Time bent around her.
It was like a movie scene slow motion, music fading away, colors sharpening around her while everything else turned dull and grey.
Hakeem's heart thudded heavily against his ribs.
Who is she? How can someone look like that and just walk around like it’s normal?
His mind raced for answers he didn’t even know he was searching for.
His hands, resting on his knees, clenched into light fists. He leaned forward slightly without realizing it, drawn to her, like gravity had shifted around his body.
She didn’t even look in his direction.
And yet it felt like she saw him anyway.
“Yo, bro!” a voice interrupted, jarring him out of his trance.
A guy next to him tall, buzz cut, chewing gum loudly nudged his shoulder. “Trials starting, man. Get your head right.”
Hakeem blinked hard, shaking his head like a man waking from a deep, too-sweet dream.
“Uh yeah, yeah. Thanks,” he muttered, quickly standing up and brushing invisible dust off his shorts.
He stole one more glance toward her.
She was now standing among a group of adults by the sidelines smiling, tossing her hair back casually.
And for a second just a second her eyes brushed past the field.
Hakeem felt something crack open inside his chest.
As the coach blew the whistle and the players began their warm-up drills, Hakeem’s feet moved on autopilot. His body knew what to do: side steps, lunges, high knees. But his mind? His mind was still standing over by the sidelines, staring at that girl.
He didn’t even hear half the instructions shouted at them. His brain was occupied with one thing:
Who is she?
After a particularly brutal sprint drill, players were given a short break.
Hakeem bent over, hands on his knees, panting. Sweat ran down his temples, but he wasn’t even thinking about fatigue.
That girl no, that angel was now sitting cross-legged on the bleachers, surrounded by a few other cheerleaders. She had changed into a fitted jacket with the school’s colors Westbrook Wolves stitched neatly on the sleeve.
Cheerleading squad, he realized.
Of course she’s a cheerleader.
Another player, this one shorter but stocky, flopped down next to him.
“You good, bro? You look... I dunno. Dizzy or something.”
Hakeem chuckled, trying to play it off. “Yeah, man. Just... long day.”
“Long day, my ass," the guy smirked. "You seen Mia?”
Hakeem froze.
Mia.
That was her name?
The guy continued, oblivious to Hakeem's inner turmoil. “Mia’s the youngest daughter of the cheer captain. New this year. Everybody's talkin’ about her.”
Hakeem nodded absently, his heart thundering so loud he barely heard the rest.
Mia.
Mia.
The name rolled through his mind like a melody stuck on replay
Practice went on, and Hakeem pushed himself harder maybe harder than he needed to. He knew he needed to impress, but he also needed a distraction from thinking about her every five seconds.
And every time he managed to shove the thought away when he dodged a defender, when he lined up for a pass all it took was a casual glance toward the bleachers to fall right back into it.
There she was.
Cheering, laughing, living.
A few times, Hakeem caught himself stealing glances mid-play nearly tripping over his own feet once.
When he jogged to get water, his eyes instinctively searched for her.
When the coach barked orders, his ears barely registered them if her laugh floated across the field at the same time.
Get a grip, he told himself. This isn’t a movie.
And yet...
It felt like one.
After the trials wrapped up, Coach whistled the group into a huddle.
“You all worked hard today,” he said, his voice firm but encouraging. “We’ll post results by Friday. Until then hydrate, rest, and stay ready.”
Players clapped each other on the backs, exchanging sweaty high-fives and promises to "kill it" next time.
Hakeem wiped his face with a towel and turned to grab his backpack, ready to leave until he heard a soft voice nearby.
“You were good out there.”
He turned around so fast he almost stumbled.
There she was.
Mia.
Standing barely a few feet away, arms folded, head tilted slightly in amusement.
Up close, she was even more stunning tiny freckles kissed her nose, her eyes sparkled with mischief, and her smile... God, that smile.
Hakeem opened his mouth then closed it again.
Say something, i***t.
“Uh... thanks,” he finally managed, his voice embarrassingly croaky. He cleared his throat. “You’re... uh... you’re with the cheer team, right?”
Mia laughed not mocking, but easy and warm. “Yeah. We came to check out the new recruits. You’re one of them now, huh?”
He smiled, finding his footing again. “Trying to be.”
She stuck out her hand playfully.
“Mia.”
He shook it, feeling how small and warm her hand was against his.
“Hakeem.”
“Nice to meet you, Hakeem,” she said, pulling her hand back and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re fast. Good footwork too. You’ll probably make it.”
“Thanks. I... I hope so.”
I hope I make it through this conversation without looking like a total fool, he thought.
She gave him a quick up-and-down glance not rude, just... assessing.
“You’re new here, right?”
“Yeah. Just moved from L.A.”
“That explains it,” she teased lightly.
“Explains what?”
She shrugged with a half-smile. “You don’t walk like the other guys here. You’ve got... I don’t know. Different energy.”
Hakeem blinked, caught completely off-guard. No one had ever said anything like that to him before.
Good different? Bad different? He wanted to ask, but he stayed quiet, feeling like if he spoke again, he’d ruin whatever this strange, delicate thing was building between them.
“Well...” Mia said, backing away slowly. “Good luck, Hakeem. Maybe we’ll be cheering for you soon.”
And just like that, she turned, her hair swinging behind her, and disappeared into the crowd of cheerleaders gathering their pom-poms.
Hakeem stood there, grinning like an i***t, heart hammering against his ribs.
Maybe we’ll be cheering for you soon.
He picked up his bag and started walking toward the school parking lot, feeling lighter, feeling...
Seen.
Noticed.
Maybe even wanted.
And for the first time since he arrived in this strange, sprawling city it felt a little bit like home.
- Writer
