“It’s written on the board,” I said, motioning forward with my pencil. I was relieved when Madame Holly called attention to the front of the room and began the lesson. We didn’t speak to each other again, except when I dropped my pencil on the floor and he reached down to grab it for me. “Thanks,” I whispered, but I swallowed hard when our fingers touched as I grabbed my pencil, and he smiled as he pulled his fingers out from under mine. I quickly looked back at my book, trying to ignore the feeling that his eyes were upon me.
When the bell rang, I had never been so happy to get out of a classroom. As soon as Madame Holly dismissed us, I grabbed my books and bolted for the door, not noticing that I had left my favorite hoodie still draped over the back of my chair. It was immediately out of my mind as I headed for my next class, wondering why I couldn’t stop thinking about the guy with the mop of hair, and that I somehow never got his name. As I dazed my way down the hall, I bumped into someone, and that’s when I realized I had passed the door for my next class. The rest of the day went the same way, thinking about the strange encounter in French class.
When the bell rang to end the day at 2:40pm, I jumped out of my seat, ran to my locker, exchanged the books that I would need for homework that night, and headed for the student parking lot to meet Amy. I had forgotten my field hockey gear for practice in her car. By the time I arrived, she was sitting on the hood of her Jeep, breaking the split ends off her mousy brown shoulder-length hair. It was a lot thinner than mine. One of the many things we didn’t have in common.
“Where have you been? I want to get out of here,” she said, as she hopped off the hood, pulled her skirt down, climbed inside, and rolled down the window.
“I came as soon as the bell rang. Did you skip your last class to get up here so fast? I forgot my bag in your car. Pop the trunk. Can you come back to pick me up at 5:30?”
“I guess.” She said, with a roll of her eyes, but I knew she was happy to have a reason to drive her new car. “Meet you in front of the gym later. Peace out.” Then she started the car, turned on some Tracy Chapman, and crammed a piece of Bubble Tape gum in her mouth before she drove away.
With my bag over my shoulder, I headed back down to the gym, past the soccer fields, and slowed my pace to see what my sister was always going on about. A quick scan of the field looked like a bunch of guys wearing jerseys with tiny shorts. They all had short hair except one with dark waves, and he looked over at me as I walked by. Embarrassed for making eye contact, I pretended not to notice, picked up my pace, and continued on to the gym. That’s when I realized that he was the same guy from the driveway in our neighborhood and from French class.
3
Busting through the locker room door, I shielded my eyes from my half-naked teammates as they got ready for practice. Modesty wasn’t something we had time to care about in order to be on time for practice. I was running late, so I headed for my locker in the back corner, where I unzipped my bag, pulled out my clothes, and pulled off my sweater.
“Damn, Allie, where’d you get those?” Lauren said from across the room, and everyone turned to look.
“Lucky bitch! You’ll have all the guys you want with knockers like those,” shouted Meredith.
“Alright, that’s enough!” said Coach DeLaney as she came out of the office. “Hurry up, ladies, we’ve got a big game next week. I know you’re all hungry for that 2002 Championship trophy.” Then she walked out the door to the field.
“I hate you all, and I’m going to wreck you on the field, just so you know,” I said, as we walked through the door to the field. Everyone tapped their sticks on the top of the door frame as they headed outside. It was tradition. I may not have been an academic scholar or outgoing in school, but when I stepped onto the field, I was unstoppable.
During practice, I was always so in the zone, until today when the soccer team went running by, and there he was, the guy with the gorgeous dark hair from French class, and he was watching me as I played. Why were they running around our field? As the captain, I found it distracting, and we had an enormous campus, so I flagged them down as they ran behind our goal, and he came running over.
“Hey, do you mind running somewhere else on campus? I’m worried we might hit you with a ball since you’re running so close to the field. Also, the team says you’re distracting in those shorts. Not you, your whole team.” I wanted to go die, I couldn’t believe I said that.
“We like short shorts!” sang a few of the other girls at once.
“Last I checked, we are allowed to run wherever we want. You’re really good, Allie. I’m Chris, by the way.” Then he winked at me and ran to catch up with the rest of the guys.
I was caught off guard by him knowing my name because I hadn’t introduced myself in French class. In that quick moment, I noticed his green eyes with long lashes, but I shook my head at the thought of anything other than needing to get back to practice. It was weird to be noticed.
“What was that!” Isabelle said, snapping me back to reality, as she came sprinting over, balancing the ball on her stick and chewing on her mouth guard.
“What was what? I asked them to run somewhere else. Come on, we’ve got a game to win next week.” Then I knocked the ball off her stick, dropped it to the ground, and drove it down the field.
After practice, I made my way through the crowd and onto the front steps of the gym, where I sat down on the top step to organize my hockey gear. Once I stepped off the field and zipped up my hockey stick, I was back to being the quiet girl that I hoped nobody would notice. I could see my sister at the far end of the congested pickup line, but I could hear her music from where I sat. Suddenly, I heard a commotion of boys behind me talking about an impossible penalty kick that somehow went in.
“Chris, I can’t believe you made that shot! Your head was in the clouds all practice, you really pulled that out of nowhere!” someone said as they passed behind me.
“What are you talking about, man? Shut up!”
I turned as discreetly as possible to look at the group of guys to see that he was looking my way.
“Slurpees! Let’s go!” said a guy on the soccer team named Griffin. Chris winked at me and then looked back at his friends before disappearing into the parking lot. I watched until their packed car pulled out and drove away.
By the time my sister pulled in front of the gym, I had already completed one page of math homework and was anxious to leave. On the ride home, Amy asked me about practice, and I asked her about the latest gossip that she always stayed on top of, but neither of us cared about the other’s answers. I left out the part where Chris Patton spoke to me.
At home, I got out of the car, grabbed a snack in the kitchen, and headed for my room. Then I turned on the stereo, unzipped my backpack, and dumped everything on the soft, blue carpeted floor to get started on the rest of my homework. Dave Matthews Band just started to play as I opened my History book when the phone rang. Through my closed door, I could hear my sister scream from the bottom of the back stairs.
“Allie! Oh my God, why is Chris Patton calling our house, and why does he want to talk to you!?” she shouted incredulously.
I didn’t reply because I didn’t know. Instead, I froze, forgetting that he was waiting for me to pick up the phone. Amy screamed my name again, and I lifted the handset from its cradle.
“Hello?” I said tentatively.
