Touch Football Part II

I apologize to everyone for making you wait this long, but i honestly could not find any time yesterday to do my blogging. It was one of those days when I planned everything out, where I was going and when, I even scheduled in time for blogging, but time caught up with me and I wasn't even able to finish things I needed to. Nonetheless, Part II of my SOS story begins now:



If anyone ever wonders, I saw her first. She was my friend before she was anything else to anyone else. From the moment I saw her, I knew. I loved her. Her long beautiful brown hair would bound when she walked and swayed in the wind like amber waves of grain. She was always so happy, optimistic, and kind to those who were more than rude to her. She was the victim of practical jokes in the locker room and was followed constantly through the hallways. I believe it was because all of the other girls in our freshmen year were horribly jealous of her. None of them ever were interested in me, and I was okay with that. I was willing to wait and befriend Melissa. She was gracious, and enjoyed my company. After I began to talk to her and make her a part of my social group, other people began to accept her and stop treating her the way that they did. I distinctly remember asking one of my school friends what their problem with her was. Her answer was something like this. "She just thinks she's so cool. Who does she think she is? Taking over our school like that...". I, to this day, have no idea what she was talking about, but at least I know why Melissa was so poorly mistreated. By the sixth week of school, her story was history. Of course, her radiant presence and brilliant smile never ceased to blow the wind out of me, but I am sure mine was the only case like that. We grew to be best of teamates. Wherever she was, I followed. She would help me with my math while I helped her pass earth science. Her laugh whenever I told a humorless joke would ring in my ears for days. She left me woozy after catching my books when they fell in the hall. She reached down for my social studies binder with one hand, and with the other patted my collar on my shirt down. My stomach fluttered. I remember wondering whether any other guy could be any more lucky than I. I envied my fellow guy friends who always made their girlfriends feel light-headed and weak, and weren't the victims of their powerful spells. I won't say that Melissa and I were a couple, although every one thought that, because she seemed to be the only one who didn't know I was madly in love with her. She hadn't even met Chase, and yet he had more luck than I did in winning her heart.