She enters the almost electrically charged concrete arena--excited and hopeful. The players are all done up in 'black and white', all ready to score. She watches as the players preen and prepare the area..eagerly waiting for the games to start (after all, the captain was her friend)..
*She wears high heels, I wear sneakers
She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers
Dreaming bout the day when you'll wake up and find
That what you're lookin for has been here the whole time*
Her face falls, as once again, she's the last to be picked for the teams..but this time, she isn't picked at all. She waits for some of the other players to arrive, because she's tired of being on the bleachers on her own, and alone. The captain is pissed off because some of her 'best' players aren't there yet..and probably won't be coming. She asks to be allowed to play, but is brushed aside..maybe she doesn't fit, or maybe she's just not 'close' enough to what the captain needs..
She waits for the game to begin, and watches as another 'experienced' player saunters in. His cocky demeanour has always intrigued her and once again, she wonders, what it would be like, to be Him-- smooth, suave and so comfortable in his own skin.. She's left stunned, as every other player, even the captain, gives him way to lead the game, to mold it to his liking..and once again he leaves her wondering--How..? Is there ever a moment of indecision behind those confident eyes..? Is there ever a stagger behind that cool swagger..?
*How can I decide what’s right, When you’re clouding up my mind..?
There is something I see in you
It might kill me
I want it to be true*
His eyes fall on his target-- this time its a newbie-- one he's never seen before. He takes his shot--
and leaves it hanging..
She shrugs him off and renews her wait for the game. Half time arrives, and the players replenish themselves. The pseudo game even comes to an end.. and the 'tired' players trudge home. She wonders why she's dressed in the team colours if she's not even going to play..and realises the game ended without her even noticing..
*All the little pieces falling, shatter.
Shards of me,
Too sharp to put back together.
Too small to matter,
But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces.*
Late at night, as she sits and wonders why she even wastes her time at these games, her friend calls.. Her friend might get 'invited' to a later game by a certain 'cute' player.. She closes her eyes, smiles and realises just why she continues to go to the games..
And then, she looks down at the empty seat next to her, sighs heavily, and wonders when she'll get to play. And she wonders if she'll find the player whose moves she could match, who'll laugh at her while she fumbles and then hold her and show her how to play..
The wind whips her hair about her face, as she looks off into the darkness, wiping away the sole tear that cuts its jagged path down her cheek..
She still waits for the game to start..
