Love at First Catch

Could My Luck Get Worse?

"Andrew, aren't you going to invite our guests in?" I'm going to guess Andy's mother asked.

"Oh, sorry, my head just hurts," because you could've possibly been drunk, I added silently, "Come on in," he replied and stepped aside to let us go inside the door.

His house had a small peach colored entry way and a gold painted living room. The carpet was a light brown and his furniture was dark brown. His front room was styled with an Indian theme. It would've worked really well if his whole family wasn't Caucasian. 

"Mija, why don't you go with Andy outside and get to know each other?" my mother asked me.

I was about to answer when Andy did for me, "Yeah, sure, follow me."

The two mothers shoved me into him and he just chuckled at my clumsiness. I pushed him away from me and started walking to the sliding glass door that showed an awesome backyard. The backyard had to be at least 1/4 of an acre, and that's still really big. In the far right corner there was a rectangular sized trampoline. On the left, there was a wooden playground-the one's from Costco-for I'm guessing younger siblings because Andy was a little big even for his petite size. Well, compared to his friends, not me.

"So, are you ready?" Andy asked out of the blue.

"For what?" I counter-asked.

"You know why you're here," he raised an eyebrow like he practiced and perfected it, "Right?"

I twitched my lip up slightly, "I'd be lying if I said yes."

He smiled, finding slight humor. I smiled a little wider. He was much taller in person. I mean to me, I was probably to his chin but my eye level was at his shoulder. Meaning, I had to look up a little bit to be able to see his brown eyes. 

We both looked away and back at the trampoline, "Wanna jump?" Andy asked.

"Race you?" I joked, "I'm kidding, you would totally beat me, seeing you are a quarterback after all. I'm just a nerd who struggles to participate in PE."

He rolled his eyes, "I don't think you struggle, I think you fail."

He darted for the tramp while I processed his insult. And when I got it I chased after him. But I didn't get on the tramp. Instead, I stood at the edge with my arms folded across my chest. I gave him a glare.

"You know I was joking, right?" 

"Well, of course," I answered, planning on getting super smarty, "I mean, the fact that you have nothing against me means it was meant to play, or get me riled me up. Psychologically people who do that have a tendency to like that person. It's a common way of-"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" he covered his ears as if in pain, "I didn't think you would get all nerdy on me."

"I would make an insult but you would use my nerdy words against me."

He laughed. Seriously, he's just like all of them, a cute guy who likes girls for their looks and not anything else. What's the saying; boys are stupid and girls are smart. But, to get the girls, boys need to act smart and to get guys, girls need to play dumb.

Something like that. Tell the truth, generally, isn't it like that?

"Oh man, Little Nerdy Birdie is lost in her thoughts."

 My head snapped in his direction. I stuck my tongue out at him and climbed onto the tramp, knocking my flip flops off as I did. 

"If you push me off, I swear, you will die."

He held his hands up in surrender, "I wasn't planning on pushing you," I looked at him like really, "Okay. maybe a little."

I scoffed placing my hand over my heart like he stabbed me and I fell backwards onto the tramp.

"Melodramatic children are the most interesting and annoying," he snapped.

"No wonder," I replied.

He smirked, but then he came to lay down next to me. Semi-nervous me was doing a good job of staying-or at least acting-calm. It was silent for a long time.

"Hanna, have you ever just sat down and looked?"

I didn't answer, looking at the clouds. To me, they were making a story. It looked like a girl with her arms above her head happy as can be. There was something that looked like a giant lemon aiming at her. I was trying to make it look like she was trying to catch it but then everything snapped.

"Ah crud!" I yelled out loud. I started muttering curses in Spanish till I ran out of breath.

"Now I'm glad I'm failing espanol," he sat up to he taller than me, "What's wrong?"

"I was going to give that stupid football but since my mom wanted to be so hush hush I didn't know! I was going to give it back to you!" I fell backwards again.

"You know I have like six different footballs," he laughed, "I don't need a seventh."

"But I don't want it! And-I just-ugh, you're kinda the only person on the football team I've ever spoken to."

"Does my tutor have speaking issues?" 

"Crazy quarterback say what? Your tutor?"

"What do you think you were over at my house for?"

I thought about it for a moment; then realized he was right. Why was I over here? Just for fun and jumping on the tramp? Nah, I'm not exactly that out there. Tutoring him would make a ton of sense. I didn't fit in the crowd of high school students. Not to sound cliche but you can't lie about that truth.

"Touche," I replied, "Why do you need a tutor?"

"I told you I was failing Spanish...and English," he thought about the logic of that statement, "Man, I suck at both languages," he shook his head erasing the thought, "Anyway, I need good grades to play football and-"

"Yeah, I got it," I said, "What do I get in return?"

"How 'bout after every session or whatever I take you somewhere you want to go or to do something you want to do? I mean, it'll get me out of the house and...yeah, whatever your reasons will be. Do we have a deal?"

He held out his hand. One I cautiously took and shook.

"Deal."