Jackson fumbled a ball. It fell onto the wooden dining table and bounced away. He snatched it back just before it could topple over the salt and pepper. His mom pursed her lips. 'Jackson, I've told you, no balls at the table. Not even juggling balls. Eat your breakfast.'
He mumbled an apology, cheeks reddening. Chrissy giggled from her spot across the table. Jackson crunched into his toast, a bit of the scrambled eggs spilling off it. He sighed. Juggling was always harder than it looked; Tommy made it look easy. He still wasn't consistent with juggling one-handed, but was always looking for an opportunity to practice. Once he was on Tommy's level, his hands would be as strong and secure as Tommy's, right? That was the idea, anyway.
'It's good you're so eager, little bro,' Tommy said, moving around the table, carrying his own plate of toast and eggs, as he sat next to Jackson, 'but you need time to rest as well.'
Jackson gulped down his mouthful, nodding. 'I know I just … thought, you know, it's not putting any strain on my body or anything.'
'Your mind needs rest too. You can't always be thinking about football—how to improve, what drill to do next—or you'll burn yourself out. Mental rest is just as important as physical.'
Jackson nodded more, taking a sip of orange juice. His phone dinged, Mom called out from the other room, reminding them not to have phones at the table. Ignoring her, Jackson checked it. A grin broke out across his face.
'What is it?' Tommy asked, leaning over to take a pick.
Cheeks darkening more than last time, Jackson slammed the phone face down. 'Uhh, j-just a f-friend! They sent a funny meme.'
'Just a friend, yeah? Sure you didn't mean to say girlfriend?'
'Jackie has a girlfriend?!' Chrissy asked, gasping.
'No! It's not… I… we've not … it's not like we're dating we're just … I-I don't know.'
Tommy raised a brow. A thought manifested in his head, even as Chrissy continued to giggle, trying to pry into Jackson's supposed love life, and Jackson kept building his walls higher and thicker.
'Why don't you ask her out?' Tommy asked.
'Wh-What?!' Jackson stared up at Tommy as if Tommy had asked him to pull the stars from the sky.
Tommy sighed. 'Look, Jackie, it's for the best to get these feelings out there. Clarity's better than confusion. Ask her out, she'll say yes or no. Either way you'll know what you guys really are, and it won't be confusing and distracting anymore.'
'B-But what if she says no!?'
'Then she says no.' Tommy shrugged, unsure why that would be a big deal. 'You'll still be friends. Even if she says she's not ready for a relationship, at least you know she likes you too. It'll just mean she thinks it'll be better for you both if you focus on other stuff until you graduate or something.'
'B-But …' Jackson stammered, mouth opening and closing uselessly.
'No more buts, little bro. How can you expect yourself to be mentally tough enough to perform on the field—let alone push through all the roadblocks standing between you and a championship—if you're too scared to tell a girl your real feelings?'
'Jackie's got a girlfriend~' Chrissy chimed in a singsong voice.
Jackson shot her a glare, which she ignored with a giggle. He couldn't fault Tommy's logic, which was most infuriating. Did he have to bring Jasmine up then and there?
'I-I can't just walk up to her and tell her I like her,' Jackson finally said.
'Why not?'
'That's WAY too awkward and lame. Doesn't it have to be special?'
Tommy laughed. 'You're just asking her to be your girlfriend, not proposing to her.'
To a fourteen-year-old staring down his potential first relationship, there wasn't much difference. 'You have to do SOMETHING.'
'Alright, fine. Take her out somewhere … maybe you can ask her to go see a concert.'
'A concert?'
'Yeah, she's super into metal and stuff. This indie band is performing tonight, I think. They aren't exactly metal but they're still …' Tommy scrolled through his phone. 'Yeah, okay, they're playing down at The Amp tonight.'
Jackson frowned. 'Who is it?'
'They're called Below The Dream. It's a mouthful, I know. You heard of them?'
Jackson shook his head.
'They're good. Local. I'll send you some songs of theirs. You'll like them, and so will she. Just ask her out.'
'I will! I will, geez.'
Tommy watched him expectantly.
'Not now.' Jackson put his phone away, grumbling. 'I'll do it in person.'
'Promise?'
'Yes! I promise. Will you leave me alone now?'
'Hahah, that's my bro.' Tommy ruffled Jackson's hair. 'Look at my little brother, finally getting a girlfriend.'
'I got one before you,' Jackson mumbled.
'Ohoho, really now? Is that how you wanna act to your chaperone?'
'Seriously?'
'Someone's gotta look after you kiddies. The Amp's got an under eighteen area, but it still isn't a place for unsupervised kids and teens. So don't get on my bad side and make me tell Jasmine about all your embarrassing stories.'
'Jasmine,' Chrissy repeated the word as if entranced. 'Can you bring her here, Jackie? I wanna meet her!'
'One thing at a time!' He wolfed down the rest of his breakfast before standing quickly and taking his plate over to the sink. 'I gotta get ready.'
'Don't forget to ask her out!'
Jackson's cheeks burned at the thought. Taking on the Cardinal's defence solo seemed like a less imposing ordeal. But if he couldn't express his real feelings, how could he overcome his fears on the field?
Despite understanding the importance of the lesson, putting it into practice and actually confronting Jasmine was a lot harder than Jackson thought. Any time he even thought about approaching her his chest tightened and everything got cold and hot at the same time. Maybe he should just ask over text … but that was backing down, admitting defeat.
During lunch he swallowed his fears and sat beside her. It was like diving into a snake pit. He'd never really interacted with Jasmine's friends before, yet here he was, sitting at their table. Dark and vibrant eyes alike glared at him from shadowed pits, like he'd just committed heresy by sitting with them. Even when Jasmine beamed at and welcomed him, those glares didn't lessen. Each of her friends looked like they'd gladly shrink his head or rip his hair out and make a doll with it or boil his bones into a potion. Maybe he'd made a mistake, but it felt like he'd passed the point of no return.
'Uhhh. J-Jasmine I was just wondering i-if you'd want to go see a band with me tonight?' he asked, internally cringing at how meek his voice was. Even looking at her, he could feel them staring holes into the side of his head. Then her eyes sparkled, and he was lost in the beautiful galaxy there.
'What band?' she asked.
'I… uh. Below The Dream. Tommy said they're pretty good.'
She looked off in thought for a moment. 'Oh yeah, I've heard of them. I think Steph's brother is a friend of theirs. They're playing tonight?'
He glanced around. If one of the friends surrounding them was Stephanie, the founder of Jasmine's garage band, they didn't react. 'Um. Y-Yeah apparently.'
'Sounds awesome. What time?'
'Uhhh… I-I'll text you. Tommy can pick you up.' He stood quicker than he should've and stumbled. The fact no-one laughed was more mortifying than if they had. He could still feel their judgemental glares as he hurried away from the table and back to relative safety with his own friends.
Part one was complete. Only part one, so why did he feel like he'd already run a marathon?
The rest of the day was a breeze after that. Even team practice wasn't much of a challenge. He welcomed the physical strain as a distraction from his mental turmoil. It gave him a couple of hours where he couldn't think about anything else except what was in front of him. A blissful couple of hours.
They went hard in practice. They had been every Friday since their off-season began. Seeing as there wasn't any game to worry about over the weekend, Coach Otsen felt he could wear the boys out twice as much if they had two days to recover.
The fewer players showing up only made things more intense as the coaches could focus their efforts on the more compact group.
The focus was still on run defence, but now the Titans were targeting development through strength and power. Stopping the run, having a good run game of your own, it always came down to who was stronger in the trenches. Could you wrangle a RB down on your own, even if they'd built up a full head of steam? Could you fight off two blockers at once? You needed the strength to pull off such feats if you were going to grind teams to a halt on the ground.
They were constantly working the blocking dummies, pushing sleds together whether through leverage or power, forcing them up or across the field. There were plenty of two-on-ones with the trainers, and the boys even got harnessed one-to-one with the trainers and had to race across the field, pulling them along.
Coach Vasquez assured Jackson and the other Receivers that this training would help them too. It would still give them "maximum gains", he said. For one, no one would be able to press them and hinder their release. The other benefit was that they could hold their balance in any aerial duel or when it came to vying for best position on a catch.
Jackson was just happy to train. Any development was better than none at all. Every bit of training got him closer to varsity.
Then practice was over, and even with his body already aching—knowing the bruises would show in the morning—it was time for the biggest challenge he'd face that week.
Whilst showering, he listened to some of Below The Dream's discography. They didn't have an album yet, but had almost a dozen songs on their SoundCloud.
Their music was … real. Jackson couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was captivating for sure. He found himself soaking under the pouring water long after he'd rinsed off, listening to the wailing guitars and vocals, punctuated by a heavy drum like a heart racing towards its demise.
He only shut the water off once the playlist had reached its end. Once he was dried and dressed, he followed Tommy to his car. Mom and Dad told them to have fun and stay safe. Chrissy complained that she couldn't go, even as their parents told her it wasn't a place for someone so young.
On the way to pick Jasmine up, Tommy put the playlist on again. It was just as eerie listening to it for the second time. Tommy took Jackson's captivated silence as nerves about the big date.
When they arrived at her house, Jasmine scampered out just as Jackson got out to go to her door. She looked different, but the same familiar beauty shone through. Her hair was puffed out wilder, smokey shadows accentuated her eyes, and black lipstick drew his eyes—and called his mouth—to her lips. Black tights sat under a plaid skirt, descending into knee-high boots, and her long-sleeved t-shirt fit snugly. The graphic of an amazon riding a griffin stretched across her torso.
Jackson stared dumbly, mouth agape. He was lucky he didn't drool.
She passed him, grinning. 'Hi, Jackson. C'mon, we don't wanna be late.' She got into the backseat and pulled him with her. Even sitting on the opposite side of the car he could smell her perfume, an alluring smokey lavender.
Tommy pulled back out of the drive. A woman watched them from the doorstep, arms crossed. Her gaze was calculating, like she was putting their plates and model to memory in case she needed to file a police report by the end of the night. Jackson didn't notice, he didn't see anything but Jasmine.
As they drove to the venue, Tommy lowered the music, occasionally peering back at Jackson and Jasmine in the rear-view mirror.
'Jasmine looks nice, doesn't she, Jackson?'
'Uhh, o-of course! Really nice.'
She giggled—his heart fluttered—and smiled. 'You look REALLY nice too.'
He looked away, hands fidgeting in his lap. He felt way under-dressed, way out of his depth. She was stunning and he was … was so plain; he was the epitome of average next to a perfect ten. But she didn't mind, and she stayed right by his side throughout the night.
The Amp—short, of course, for Amphitheatre—was within Lakeview Park, on the north side of town. It was closed off by a thicket of trees, with an archway leading into it. Each Friday there was usually something on, whether it was music or a play or some kind of show. Entrance was free, though there were drinks and food on offer from a couple of vendors set up within, usually at an exuberant price like they always were at places like that. The stage was minimal, just an elevated semi-circle of polished wood without any backdrop. Before it were two areas sectioned off by ropes, one for adults, another for under eighteens.
Jackson, Jasmine, and Tommy found their spot close to the stage just as the band finished their sound test, and Tommy returned with their soda as the first song got underway.
It wasn't anything hair-thrashing or head-banging, but Jasmine still swayed and bobbed to the building beat and distorted riffs. Jackson let go and flowed with the music too. It was much more raw listening to them live. The pain and emotion in the singer's voice came through clearly and evoked those same feelings from within. The way the music carried out into the night before fading into the void, instead of bouncing off any walls and feeding back into itself, only heightened the experience.
Jasmine hummed and sang along to the choruses, and Jackson found himself doing the same. Without knowing it, their hands sought each other, and their fingers were entwined by the end of the night.
Below The Dream mixed covers of other bands in between their own songs, and time faded away rapidly under the stars. Everything else but the music and Jasmine's touch, her warmth and scent, faded from Jackson's senses as well.
When all was said and done, Jasmine screamed approval, cheering loudly, even crying out for an encore; hers was one of only few voices calling for such. Even with her request unfulfilled she kept grinning.
'That was awesome!' she shouted.
'Yeah, it was,' Jackson replied.
Staring into her eyes, he realised their hands were still intertwined. If she knew it too, she made no move to change their situation.
Tommy watched quietly for a moment, but when it seemed like the two would be content to stand there staring without doing anything else until the sun came up, he cleared his throat. 'I should get you home, Jasmine. Your parents must be worried.'
'Hah. Doubt it. But yeah, you're right, I guess.' Still she didn't let Jackson's hand go. Only when they filed back into Tommy's car did she release him.
The drive back to her home was quiet. The digital recordings couldn't hold up to the live performance with it still so fresh in their minds, so they sat in silence instead. Jasmine still mumbled and hummed some of the songs, watching the stars drift by.
Jackson slumped back in his seat, exhaustion finally seeping into him. More than what had after the day's practice. It was a satisfied feeling, however. One of accomplishment. He could have a hundred nights like that in a row and they'd still feel just as good.
Yet … had Jasmine known this was a date? It's not like he'd said it was, nor had he asked her the all-important question. When they pulled back into Jasmine's drive, he realised his chances were closing.
'I hope you had a great time, Jasmine,' Tommy said, turning to look back at them. 'You and Jack will have to do this again sometime, right?'
'Oh definitely. It was awesome. Thanks for driving, Tommy.'
'No worries,' Tommy said. His eyes flashed to Jackson and then gestured back to Jasmine.
'Uhh… I-I'll walk you to your door?' Jackson said, suddenly feeling very hot in the cool night.
She giggled, heating his cheeks further. 'Okay.'
They got out, and though the door was not even a few dozen feet away, the walk felt as if it lasted an hour as they took the journey side-by-side. Jackson kept his head down and his hands in his pockets so she wouldn't see them shaking.
Despite how long the walk felt, neither of them had said anything by the time they reached her doorstep. She turned to face him. 'Here we are. Thanks Jackie.'
He didn't mind the nickname on her lips. 'N-No problem, Jasmine.'
They lingered, the quiet lingering with them. Just before she reached for the door, he spoke again.
'Jasmine I…I just wanted to say … um… well I had a really good night and I was wondering …' he faced her. She watched him expectantly, still smiling. 'I was wondering … well really I just had to ask … um, if you … if you … if you had a good time too.'
Her smile softened, but she nodded. 'I did. And I meant it when I said we should do it again.'
'Y-Yeah, we should.'
Silence crept back in as they stared at one another. His gaze darted between her eyes and lips. He should just lean in. If his voice wasn't going to work, he could just lean in and … but he hesitated.
'I-It's getting late,' he said. 'You should get some sleep.'
A soft sigh escaped her. 'You too, Jackson. Goodnight.'
'G-Goodnight.'
She opened the door, stepping through and disappearing behind it. It shut, and so did Jackson's opportunity. His shoulders slumped. He faintly heard shouting coming from the home as he trudged towards the car. He hoped he hadn't got her in trouble … and for what? He still didn't have the courage to ask her out officially, let alone kiss her. It'd take some time for him to be mentally prepared for THAT challenge.
Tommy had watched the whole scene play out. Jackson might be ready for the field, but it seemed he'd need a lot more toughening up mentally before he was ready to step foot in the coliseum of love.