I wait in the lobby of the stadium, near the food courts. I was waiting outside, but it got dark and cold, so I went inside. For the past hour, I've been sitting here eating corndogs. So far, I've eaten 5 of them. It's been years since I've had a corndog, and now that I have one, I don't think I can stop.
I texted my family and friends that I'm still here and haven't disappeared, that I'm not feeling so good, and decided to sit out front and wait for the game to be over. It's not wrong, I don't feel that good and I may have to blame the five corndogs I stuffed down my throat.
How could he?
How could he go back out to the game, knowing that not only I but his family didn't want him out there? He has to understand where we were coming from, how cruel could Andreas Chen be? Was this vengeance he had against James that important to go out there and jeopardize his life.
That doctor needs to be fired, for sure. You can't just let your patient go back out to a game and they're injured. I know this game is important to him and that he wants to win, I get it, it's what he worked most of the year for, but is health less important, in this case, to him, it is.
I finish the last of my corndog, throwing the stick in the garbage next to me. I would get another one, but the one I just swallowed seems like it's about to make its return, through my mouth and on the floor.
"Hey, is the corndog any good? "Asked the woman who's hovered over the counter, staring intently at the corndogs.
"They're amazing. You're asking someone who shoveled five down her throat."
She chuckles, "Impressive. You know, my town has a hotdog eating contest, I'm sure you could win it. The only competition you would have would be Mr. Larry, an old man who owns the movie theater in town."
"Tell him I'll see him this coming fall." I joke along with her, and she smiles.
She was beautiful, almost too beautiful. She looked like one of those girls you see on the explore page of Instagram. You scroll past their photos, wondering how people who look like that could walk this Earth. How God could create something so perfect.
Sandpaper eyes and hair, tan skin, and a great body. You could tell she worked out regularly. I also knew she was rooting for the other team. A Stanford jersey clung to her small frame. I watch as she orders her food, two corndogs, and nachos. The woman behind the counter said she would have to wait a minute for the nachos, their machine is broken so they have to wait for a new one to come. Said it should be here any minute.
To wait for her nachos, she sits next to me.
"I don't mean to be weird, but you smell amazing," I tell her.
"Why, thank you. Everyone tells me that, and when they ask what perfume it is, I always say it's my natural smell."
"No way!"
"I wish I was lying."
We're quiet for a few seconds. Her eating her corndog while I check my Twitter feed. All down my timeline is the football game, the last thing I want to see or hear about right now. I stuff my phone in my purse, deep down.
The girl looks over at me, "So if you don't mind me asking, why are you sitting out here when the game is out there?"
"No, I don't mind. I had a disagreement with my boyfriend and decided to sit out here instead. I don't have a car, so I have to wait until the game is over for my ride."
She pouts her lips, "That's a bummer. Boyfriends can be assholes."
"You too?" I ask.
"No, my boyfriend and I are fine. Sometimes he can be an ass, and do things he knows I don't like, but I still love him. I'm sure whatever the problem is, it will resolve itself. It usually does, or sex."
"Oh, I don't think sex can solve this problem. So, you go to Stanford I assume."
She smiles proudly, "I do."
"Are Stanford students as stuck up as people say?"
Her face scrunches up, "People say that all the time about us, just jealous they couldn't get into Stanford. Honestly, it's a nice school with nice professor. I'm in a sorority, so I have to be happy all the time."
"I never knew anyone in a sorority. Do they haze you guys?"
She hunches over and laughs, "That stuff only happens in the movies. People look at Ivy League schools and assume they're making us make out with each or send nudes, it's nothing like that. Although at some Ivy leagues, they still haze just not at Stanford. You know, you would be great in one."
"A sorority?" She nods. "No, not me. I'm too, not so cheerful. I leave that to the others. One good thing I can say about sororities is that they throw great parties."
"That is true."
I notice something about her, "Are you, perhaps, Italian?"
She nods, "Yes, I am. People typically can tell by my thick accent. I lived in Italy until I was 10 years old. My mother was offered a job here, so we moved. It was difficult, moving from Italy to America, everything is so different and the kids can be mean. I didn't feel like I fit in until high school, the people there liked me a lot, I guess they never met a foreign person before."
"I never met someone who lived overseas. Tell me, is American pizza good to you?"
She sticks her finger down her throat, "Compared to Italian pizza, no. I won't lie to you, I love me a slice of Caesar's Pizza, don't tell my Nona though, she'll have a heart attack."
"Ma'am, your nachos are ready." says the woman behind the counter. The girl walks over, pays the lady, and grabs her food.
She turns around to me, "It was nice to meet you. . ." She trails on, wanting me to tell her my name.
"Oh, Elizabeth."
"It was nice to meet you, Elizabeth."
"What's your name?" I ask.
"I'm Jessie Angello." She smiles a huge smile and walks away, back to her side of the stadium. Once I hear her name, my smile drops.
Jessie! Andreas's' Jessie! I can't believe I had a whole conversation with the girl who cheated on my boyfriend with his best friend. I thought she would be a stuck-up pretty girl with a nasty attitude. The only thing I found true was that she was pretty, and had a great personality and sense of humor.
I'll never tell anyone that we talked, and I'll never tell her who I am, it will only make things weird. I already have enough going on with Andreas, we don't need to add anything to the pile.387Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuYC61wPgx9
