We grabbed a couple camping chairs and sat them on the grass away from the crowd so we could chat.
“I didn’t know you were a linebacker,” I said.
“Well, I don’t exactly advertise my position. Besides, the people that come see the games know my position; the people that don’t see the games just don’t care. I don’t care enough to tell everyone my life story.”
“So you’re saying you don’t tell people that don’t watch games because you don’t think they’ll really care that much,” I asked.
“Exactly. It’s like your mock trials, why would I care if someone was a judge or a prosecutor, it kinda just feels like an unnecessary label, doesn’t it?” he said.
I laughed at the silly train of thought. But, he had a few good points, I honestly didn’t care what his position was, and knowing it wouldn’t have made me think any more or less of him.
“How’s your mock trial prep?” he asked.
“It’s going well,” I said.
“That’s all I get?” he said.
“Well, what else am I to say? It’s just busy work. Besides, it’s been driving me crazy lately.”
“How so?” he asked.
“If you want to present a good case, you have to do a lot of research. You have to check precedent cases, and gather any evidence you can in order to defend your client. I think I’m in a good position, but there’s really not much to tell.”
He sat there a moment in thought. It seemed that he liked to try to pick his words rather than just blurt out anything. It was different from when I first met him; his demeanor seemed almost professional today; as though he were an expert chess player looking to gain the upper hand on his opponent.
“Why do you do it?” he asked.
He had already asked me this question before, or some version of it. I wanted to give him the same answer as it still seemed relevant, but I didn’t for some reason.
“It’s expected of me,” I replied.
“They expect you to be on the mock trial team?” he asked.
“No, not that,” I said.
I didn’t really know what I wanted to say. I was caught in this odd moment of trying, to be honest with not only myself but with another person.
“My parents always wanted me to get ahead in life. They wanted me to be the best I could be. I’d always do my homework with them, and they would make sure it was right. I’d exercise and eat right, I’d make friends with people my parents would approve of, and I didn’t do anything crazy.
“I’m expected to be smart. I’m expected to get good grades and have a nice job in a boring office, with a boring husband. I don’t know what I really want; I don’t know whether that’s my parents in my ear or if it really is me that wants those things,” I tried to explain.
He nodded and sipped more of his beer. For a minute he didn’t say anything, he just sat there rubbing the scruff under his chin. I started feeling embarrassed for saying something like that so soon. Even Albert didn’t hear that little piece about me.
“My parents were barely there,” he started, “I’d come home and be alone from the moment I got there until almost bed time. But, my dad would always come in and read me a bedtime story to put me to sleep. Sure, I’d grown out of it eventually, but even today I still miss it. I spent every waking minute trying to make time go faster, so I joined any afterschool events I could. Football was the first one that clicked.
“I might look like a messed up kid, getting in with the wrong crowd, making bad decisions, but those decisions were made by me and me alone. I never got a helping hand from my parents, but I loved them just the same.”
He returned to his beer. We sat in silence for an undetermined amount of time. I don’t think either of us had anything to say. It felt like we had just skipped past the point of going on dates and were already well into the relationship stage.
I somehow felt comfortable around Jeff; he knew something about me that I rarely shared, and I knew something about him that seemed personal.
“Do you want to make a choice for yourself?” he asked.
I stared at him with a confused look.
“Well, a decision that only you can make,” he said.
I nodded, hoping he would get to the point.
“I thought I’d take you to-”
“Holly!” I heard Matt shout at me from behind.
“Matt!” I shouted back a little less than enthusiastically.
“I thought you might want to meet my Girlfriend, April,” he said while shoving a lovely young lady in front of us.
She was dressed in a simple sun dress and heels. She was cute, with Islander features and a petite build. She looked just right for Matt, if not a little out of place considering the height difference.