The Spider on the Other Side of the Fence

The only reason I noticed him on that particular day in February was because he stood out like an ink blot on a white piece of paper. A spider on a wall. A literal shadow on a bright, sunny day.

You get the gist.

Nice weather was rare so early in the year, and most of the other students I’d seen that day wore brighter colors, but not him.

I got the long sleeves and all, because it was still cold out in spite of the sunshine, but did he have to look so dreary? I mean, he looked like he just walked out of a Hot Topic with half of the stock on him.

And yet, there was something about him that drew my attention so much, I almost got hit in the head with a soccer ball.

It whizzed past my ear and straight into the goal I was supposed to be guarding.

Oops.

“Andrew!” Several of my teammates yelled in almost perfect unison. Their exasperation echoed across the field at me. Six pairs of eyes glaring daggers in my direction. Half of them crossed their arms at me, the other half only scowled.

“Sorry!” I said, finally tearing my eyes away from the Spider, as I would come to call him. I answered the waiting glares with an apologetic smile and shrunk accordingly under the weight of their annoyance. It was all I could do to keep myself from laughing, a nervous habit, of course.

It’s not like I found anything funny about the situation, of course not. I would never.

One by one they turned away, shaking their heads at me, while the other half of our team, the opposing half, just exchanged amused looks. For once my stupidity played out in their favor.

The practice game resumed the moment I tossed the ball back in, and it ended shortly after that. We were only playing half a game.

And of course, my team lost. Thanks to me.

Again, oops.

Good thing it was just practice, right? I figured I’d be saying that to most of my teammates in the locker room later.

And probably receiving more glares for it.

I had to work on sounding apologetic instead of just trying to brush it off. I knew several of them -- ahem Kevin -- who wouldn’t like that. Not to point fingers at sore losers or anything.

I would never.

“Where is your head today?” the team captain asked, tossing a towel at me. It was still cold, despite having been sitting out in the sun.

See? Like I said, I’d understand long sleeves. Just not the dreary colors.

For a team captain, Matthew had always been very laid-back. He didn’t hassle us if we missed practice or made bad passes. In fact, I think this was the first time he’d ever bothered me about messing up.

Not the first time I’d messed up, mind you, just the first time I got called out on it.

“Sorry,” I said again. 

“We’ve got the first game against South next week. You can’t be zoning out in the middle of it.” He tossed a water bottle at me next. Unlike the ball, I caught it.

“I won’t.” Probably.

“What were you looking at anyways?”

I nearly choked on the water, then tried to pass it off by clearing my throat. “That kid who walked past, do you know his name?” Since my voice cracked, I don’t think my attempt at playing it cool was successful, but to his credit, Matthew didn’t react to it.

“You’ll have to be a bit more specific. There’s only 800 or so kids in this school.”

“Oh so that narrows it down.”

“To a needle in a haystack, sure.”

“Right well, I didn’t see his face, have no idea what grade he’s in, and he was too far away for me to notice any details about him.”

“You’re literally the worst at narrowing down.” Matthew turned around for a few seconds to say goodbye to the last of our teammates. The rest had already scattered and left, leaving just us two on the field.

No mob with pitchforks today. Phew.

I fiddled with my gloves, adjusting them even though I’d be taking them off in a few minutes. When Matthew turned back, expecting more details from me, I ventured, “He wore all black?”

“Why was that a question?”

“I don’t know?”

Matthew rolled his eyes and looked off towards the fence, following my gaze. “On a hot day like today? If he dresses like that everyday, it won’t be too hard to find him again.”

Always the voice of logic. That’s why he’d made team captain. That and he’s a senior, and arguably the best player on our team. From what I’ve heard, he’s already been drafted by three major colleges.

But I digress.

Back to the Spider.

“Are you expecting me to be patient?” I said jokingly, hoping he’d get the sarcasm.

“Yeah, definitely not something you have in your skill set, what with being the goalie and all.” He responded in turn with an easy grin.

With a clap on the shoulder and a tilt of his head, he signaled that he was heading out for the day, and started towards the locker rooms, rolling a soccer ball along as he went and whistling a random tune. It was terribly off-pitch, but it’s not like he became team captain because he can hold a note.

I lingered by my post a moment longer, looking towards the empty field and even emptier school. I still saw the Spider’s silhouette, a vague shadow with no distinguishing features whatsoever. Gloomy, even on a bright sunny day in the dead of winter. Combatting the sun in every way possible, like he had a personal vendetta against brightness.

Like I said, I don’t know why I was drawn to him. I just get a sense that he’s someone I need to meet. An inexplicable urge to get to know him. Like the red thread of fate connecting us, somehow.

That sounds terribly cheesy, but it illustrates my point well enough, right?

And so began my search for a needle in a haystack.