Chasing Butterflies Chapter 35: Coming Home (Patreon)

“Please welcome—the RHS Raccoons!”

The band had barely finished playing the national anthem and made it off the field before it was time to go again. The drum majors waved their arms, urging them to bring their instruments up even as they packed together in the stands. On the track below, one of the snares cracked out a series of rimshots to count them off.

Together the band began to blare the school’s fight song as the whole team of football players charged through an inflatable arch and onto the field. A crowd speckled with red, white, and gold cheered them on, but Olivia found their enthusiasm more than a little wanting. Especially compared to what she’d grown used to.

They should all be ashamed. Olivia scanned the bleachers as she belted out the music. I still see empty seats. Heck, people have elbow room. Everyone in Ashwood would’ve been embarrassed to have a turnout like this. Especially for homecoming. It would be standing room only.

It was one of the more memorable differences between her hometown and the place she and Jason had moved to. The place treated high school… differently. Especially high school football.

Most of the local businesses shut down early for home games, since practically the entire town would show up for each one. Even Olivia had attended her fair share of the events, despite the boys being years away from being freshmen. Homecoming in particular might as well have been a local holiday.

Compared to that, her old alma mater felt a little… underwhelming. Though she couldn’t really blame them. She had to remind herself that this was normal.

The song concluded with a triumphant final chord—and a few high-pitched musical flourishes, courtesy of Naomi. The kickoff followed shortly after, the event granted a bit of extra flair courtesy of a drumroll and accompanying bugle call from the brass.

From there, the breakneck pace of the band’s involvement slowed somewhat. They sat together in the stands like packed sardines, standing every few minutes to blast out another song. Otherwise, they were more or less free to simply talk and watch the game.

Despite that, the atmosphere wasn’t entirely relaxed. The other freshmen were clearly nervous. Less so than when they’d taken the field to play the national anthem before the game, but still clearly overwhelmed by the sheer number of pep tunes they were called on to play.

“The Thing next! Get ready!” Marcus called, turning to the band and motioning for them to get set.

Olivia rose to stand where she was sandwiched between Luna and Chrissy. The latter muttered to herself in panic as she thumbed through a folder of music. “How does that one go again?”

“B flat, D, E flat, E natural, F,” Olivia rattled the notes off quickly, showing the girl the fingerings for good measure. “It’s just that over and over, then more B flat—oh! Here we go!”

She was cut off by Marcus raising his hands and counting them off. The band bleated out the next tune, with a handful of spectators clapping along to the upbeat melody. On the track below, the cheerleaders took the opportunity to do a choreographed cheer that went along with the music.

There was a scattering of polite applause as they finished, though most kept their attention on the game or whatever conversations they’d been having. Chrissy looked over at Olivia with obvious relief. “Thanks. You saved me, there.”

Olivia just gave her a thumbs up and a smile. Though honestly, even if she hadn’t helped, it still probably would have been fine.

I doubt many people in the crowd would really notice. We’re a sideshow here, this is pretty much the lowest pressure environment we might ever play in. Though I guess I hear it whenever she gets something wrong… I hope she doesn’t think I’m judging her for it.

“Raccoons are the best! Better than the rest!”

Olivia watched the cheerleaders follow up the song with one more cheer, swinging their red and white pompoms about as they flashed smiles at the crowd. Trisha stood near the center of the formation, having replaced her spirit day outfit with the tight red and white uniform of a cheerleader. Her golden hair was pinned up with a comically large bow that matched her sparkly red eyeshadow. To her surprise, she also saw Shelly in the formation, albeit on the other side. The girl’s nose looked just a touch more swollen than it had a few weeks ago.

The girls finished the cheer, rustling their pompoms enthusiastically at the crowd. Olivia watched as Trisha’s eyes scanned the densely clustered band kids until they settled on her. Trisha grinned, offering her a wink and a small wave.

Olivia returned the wave, albeit a little guiltily. I still can’t believe she went to all that effort for the dress… I’ll have to tell her how grateful I am. Even if I don’t end up wearing it.

“Dude. That cheerleader just winked at you.”

“Shut up. No she didn’t.”

“I’m serious. Did you not see it?”

“Get real. She’s way too hot for Daryl.”

“Hey, now! I don’t have to be hot if I’m funny!”

“Really sucks that you aren’t then.”

The saxophones continued to rib each other a few rows above, their attention turning away from the cheerleader and toward making fun of their friend. But not all of the reactions were quite so positive. Down below, Olivia saw her section leader roll her eyes.

“Ugh. They’re not even that hot.”

“I know, right?” One of the colorguard girls let out a nasty giggle. “Do they even realize how much makeup those sluts put on?”

Pot calling the kettle black, Olivia remarked silently. She’d never seen Alyssa without at least a pound of makeup obscuring her features, and the colorguard girls weren’t much better.

Olivia had never spoken to the colorguard much last time around, despite their general friendliness, mostly because the unapologetically extroverted balls of energy had been a bit intimidating to a shy introvert. Their overwhelming presences had quite effectively steamrolled her in any attempt to interact, not that that was a difficult prospect.

But now,wolfe she was honestly a bit grateful to her past self. It seemed that every time she overheard a conversation involving the girls, there was  some overblown drama or section-wide conflict to talk about. Not too dissimilar from the cheerleaders themselves, actually.

What’s the term? Horseshoe theory? They’re both extreme ends of the spectrum, yet way more similar than anyone would want to admit.

“Hey. You know that girl?” Chrissy asked curiously, nodding toward Trisha. Evidently, the agreeable girl was a bit more observant than the others.

Olivia nodded. “Yeah. She’s in my English class. She’s pretty nice, actually.”

“Oh. Cool.” Chrissy glanced over. “That’s nice. I guess not all cheerleaders are awful, huh?”

The words were meant as a joke, but they still made Olivia cringe a little. She hid the reaction with a smile. “No. They’re not.” 

If even someone as agreeable as Chrissy can say that with a straight face… I guess there’s more animosity than I realized. One more thing I managed to avoid last time around.

Thankfully, the attitude didn’t manifest into any actual antagonism. The cheerleaders and band simply acted as though the other didn’t exist. Even the small distance between them might as well have been a brick wall for all they interacted—which may have been why Trisha’s wave had been so noticeable.

Sighing at the pettiness of it all, Olivia turned her attention toward the rest of her surroundings. She spotted her dad a few sections over, watching the game alone with polite interest. She  made sure to wave when he inevitably glanced over, earning a broad smile from the man in return.

Down on the field, Mr. Wolfe stood on the sidelines of the field with arms crossed, his role at the school apparently extending further than just teaching a freshman PE class. And a few seats overhead, a trumpet and a baritone were attempting to subtly hold hands without being noticed in an absolutely scandalous display of public affection.

Olivia couldn’t help but smile at the last one. Compared to the unsubtle rear squeezing Jason would try, this was positively chaste. It was just so cute, seeing kids try and figure out dating like this.

Not that they’re all so innocent. Obviously.

Her thoughts cast back to Trisha. It was getting harder to reconcile the pregnancy rumors she remembered with the girl standing on the track below. How in the world had things ended up that way? Was her judgement of the girl simply that off?

Or maybe she’s just a kid who makes a dumb mistake. That wouldn’t be anything new.

Olivia came back to the present to realize that she’d been staring at the stands above. Specifically, at a particular junior tenor sax with dark, curly hair.

Before she could look away, her attention was noticed. The curly-haired boy met her eyes and offered a cocked half-smile in return. The look made her stomach churn.

She quickly looked away, fixing her eyes forward. Nope. Absolutely not. I have one more day of ignoring that particular ticking time bomb, and I’m going to take full advantage.

Olivia shook her head and searched elsewhere, intent on finding a different distraction. She found one in the form of two figures standing on the track, guarding the stairs leading up to the bleachers. They wore sky blue button-ups and navy blue pants, as well as narrow hats that she recognized.

Huh. I don’t remember them ever being there last time.., Maybe I just never noticed before?

They stood with the stiff posture of kids who were trying hard to make themselves be taken seriously. It might have worked, too, if the pair weren’t so clearly freshmen. Even their uniforms did little to hide their youth. 

The observation reminded her to look for Bryce among the football players. Locating them was more difficult than expected. The jerseys didn’t have names like they did in professional leagues, and the helmets made it even more difficult to make out faces.

Still, she knew he was an offensive lineman, and she thought she spotted someone matching his build among them. The boy sprang into action as the play began, effortlessly beating back an incoming player from the defense and pivoting to slow another before he could tackle the quarterback.

“Ugh. I need to use the bathroom.” Emma remarked from nearby. “We can do that, right? We have to. Where’s Ms. V?”

“You might want to wait,” Olivia said without taking her eyes off the game. “We’re about to play.”

“Huh?”

Ridgeview’s quarterback stood with ball in hand, head swiveling as his teammates kept the tide of teal-clad opponents at bay. It took only a moment before his arm snapped forward to launch the ball toward an open catcher in a perfect spiral. The boy caught the ball, managing to make it a few more steps before getting tackled. But it was enough.

Marcus spun toward the band, already waving his arms. “Everyone up!”

The band sprang to their feet and bleated out a quick celebratory tune for the first down. Afterwards, Emma wasted no time in waving down their band teacher and getting excused to find the nearest bathroom. Olivia was just settling back in to watch the game when she heard a soft voice from beside her.

“…How did you know?”

Olivia blinked and looked toward Luna. It was the first time the quiet girl had spoken all game. “Know what?”

“That we were going to play.”

“Because we were about to get a first down.”

Luna shifted, her head ducking a little further. Though her eyes were invisible behind her platinum bangs, Olivia felt fairly confident that she’d averted them.

…Oh! She has no idea what that means, does she?

Olivia pointed toward the field. “See that guy on the sideline? The one holding the big black and red target sign?”

Luna lifted her head to look. “...Yes?”

“That’s where the offense is trying to get. The side with the ball. They have four chances, four plays, to get there. Every chance is called a down.” She pointed to the corresponding number on the scoreboard. “If they make it, the number resets and they get four more chances to make it to the next checkpoint. If they don’t, then they hand the ball over and switch to defense instead.”

It was a primer that Jason had given her a lifetime ago. While she was no particular fan of football, his enjoyment of the sport had exposed her to enough that she’d at least picked up the basics. Certainly enough to explain the rules to others.

“Ooooh!” Chrissy chimed in from her other side. The girl leaned forward with interest. “That’s how it works?”

Olivia nodded. “That’s the basics, yeah. There’s a bit more to it, obviously, but…”

Chrissy looked at the scoreboard and scrunched her nose. “Wait. Aren’t touchdowns supposed to be worth like seven points or something? Then how in the world do we have three?”

Thus, Olivia proceeded to explain more about the rules of football to Luna and Chrissy. As she kept talking, she noticed a few other nearby freshmen leaning forward to listen as well, and one of the male saxophones even chimed in a few times to correct small details or provide clarifications. It seemed that ignorance in this area wasn’t particularly rare, especially among the girls.

One particular fumble from the opposing team was accompanied by a sad trombone sound—an addition that had the band laughing and earned the perpetrator a venomous glare from Ms. Villanueva. Otherwise, the game chugged along, the two teams pushing each other back and forth across the field as Olivia and the others talked.

Eventually, she looked over toward her dad again to find that he was no longer sitting alone. Olivia’s mom now sat next to him, the woman’s formal pantsuit at complete odds with the red foam finger encasing one of her fists.

She would have laughed at the sight if not for their faces. Both mom and dad wore serious, almost tired expressions as they spoke quietly to each other. Olivia strained to hear, but their words were impossible to make out over the din.

After a few moments, Chandra looked over her husband’s shoulder and noticed Olivia looking. Her face immediately brightened and she waved, her other hand thrusting the foam finger enthusiastically skyward. The change was sudden enough to make Olivia doubt what she’d seen only moments before.

Olivia smiled and waved back, trying to hide the growing sense of unease roiling inside her stomach.