Of Breaking Hearts

"You shouldn't have announced that I'd be taking pictures."

Geo and I exited Greek Hall and the sun shone on us as it started to set. It was a day almost down and I hadn't taken a single picture. How could I? He told everyone in that hall! My mood suddenly shifted.

I was sure Geo was just being helpful. This was his punishment and ultimatum, after all. But I didn't work that way, and it had to be clear to him before everything went downhill.

"They'll pose for the camera," I added.

"Nah. Athletes are athletes. Hard core ones – and I think most of us here are – won't care about how they look. As long as they give the game their best and they make it until the end, they're fulfilled."

He shrugged his shoulders, as if he wasn't in the least bit interested. What he said could've been a well-rehearsed line, a part of a memorized speech students like him gave during pep talks. Yet, it wasn't, as something in the tone of his voice gave him away to commitment. And I simply knew it.

We headed to the grand stand and found a bleacher that was away from the athletes at rest. Looking through the viewfinder of my camera, I scanned the oval track holding my breath. Mattheus always went on jogs around this track, so I expected he'd be there. When I didn't see him, I pursed my lips and convinced myself I wasn't exactly disappointed.

"Who were you looking for?" Geo asked.

I turned to him and saw he had a very serious expression. He wasn't teasing me, which, to me, was the more typical thing to do. "My brother," I lied. It was a possibility, since Zach was competing in two sports: soccer and basketball.

"Oh. No soccer practice today. Maybe he's at the Greek Hall, courts side, for basketball," he said, turning his gaze back to the oval track.

Taking that as an opportunity to change the topic, I stood. "I'm going around, okay?"

"Okay." He looked up to me and gave me a smile of reassurance, though I might be reading him all wrong. I didn't know him, after all. "I'll be here."

I ran to the tracks and surveyed the area again. It felt different. A part of me was saying I didn't belong here, but the other part was jumping excitedly at what I could consider my new-found playground.

Geo was right. The athletes didn't mind me taking pictures of them. Like this was just an ordinary thing and that it wasn't exactly important. They were minding their own businesses, concentrating on sweating out their determination to win.

From beyond the soccer field, I thought I saw Trance jogging, but upon closer look, it wasn't him. That would've been trespassing since he studied elsewhere. Then I thought about Jazz. I still hadn't told her that her Wonder Boy was here in the country – one of the many secrets I began to keep from her in favour of Trance. Not that Jazz would listen, anyway. Each time I wanted to talk about that guy, she would cut me off and talk about something else. She had been doing that the past two years. She didn't want to talk about basketball, either, since she had that injury and couldn't play. She didn't want to talk about anything. And for the many years we'd known each other, I felt like there had been a gap between us, even when we talked to each other a lot.

Taking a few stolen shots of the guy, I heaved a long sigh and turned back to where I left Geo. He was still there; he didn't move. Yet, many of the Reagan athletes moved to sit beside him and he was crowded on like a magician with an audience at awe. He was speaking animatedly about something and as I looked through my viewfinder, I saw how his eyes lit up. He loved the attention. Every second of it.

Geo's eyes turned to where I was. Afraid that he'd notice me staring, I gasped and took the camera away from my face. For a second there, I almost thought he caught me observing him. He smiled, something I could recognize from across the field, and waved his hands to me.

I waved my hand back, hoping I didn't look crazy, and walked to him.

"You got what you need?" he asked when I reached my earlier spot.

The girls crowding him didn't even move to give me space. "Excuse me," I said, clearing my throat. Apparently, it wasn't enough to distract them from drooling over Mr. Secretary.

The only time I was able to reach my camera bag was when Geo told them to give me space, and that was even uncalled for.

"Hey, Zoey. You got what you need?" he repeated, asking me.

"Yeah." I had to keep myself busy, fixing my gear. The girls were on to me and I could feel heat everywhere. Their ears and noses were on fire, apparent by the way they breathed. I could swear they'd stab me to death, if they could.

"Shall we go?" Geo stood up, leaving a chorus of annoyed sighs in the air, and took my bag from me. I hurriedly snatched the strap from him, my reflexes working when on defence.

He smirked, looking at me, as if I'd done something so silly. In fact, that was what I felt like I did. When he waved at them, the female choir echoed their goodbye in perfect unison, a singsong version of longing gasps. I could almost hear their hearts beating for him.

"Do you need to go?" It was Holly, a sophomore athlete who was also a member of the Reagan Media Club. That girl had hated my guts from the very beginning; from the attention I was getting from Kori and Ms. Rivera, and now from Geo. I could swear if there was one person most likely to have the tendency to plot my demise in this school, it was her.

Geo replied, "Yeah. We're having dinner with the swimming team."

"What?" another one exclaimed. And now, I could hear hearts breaking.

Slap me. I hid my smile in the next minute.