Shooting for the goal

The beginning

    The salty air stung my eyes, and the roaring waves pounding against the sand filled my ears.  I walked the along the beach side with the sand between my toes, my thumbs hooked into my pockets, and my wandering thoughts.  I miss my mother, she died when I was 6, so I only have faint memories or her.  She had beautiful hazel eyes, her smile easily made your day, those perfect teeth seemed to shine like a star.  Black curly hair, she had the most beautiful colored skin, not too dark but not too light either.   

    "Dusty!" a familiar male voice booms.  My father, he stood 5'10", he had thick dark brown hair that wasn't curly, but had waves that stuck out and couldn't seemed to be contained.  He has green eyes, he's Mexican so he had that skin tone to prove it, his body is muscular from working out.  A dream catcher tattoo was visible on his bicep that peeked out from under his white t-shirt.

    "Coming papá!" I call as I look at the ocean one last time.  I walk to the log where I left my sandals.  Sliding into them I run to my father and jump into his arms.

    "Ready to go home yet?" My father asks.

    "Sí papá," I whisper back.  We pull apart and walk up a small hill to his old truck.  A dusty orange '70 Ford pickup, bench seat so we can't hold too many people.  We drive home in silence, soon we pull into our driveway.  We live in a mint green house on a slight hill, our house is 2 stories and has 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, and too much room for 2 people.  I slide out of the truck and trudge up to the house.

    "Dad, keys?" I ask my hand outstretched for them.

    "Here," my dad says pulling the keys out of his pocket and tossing them to me.  I snag them out of the air with ease and open the front door.  I run up the stairs, down the hall and into my room.  My room greets me with a bright blue color, trees dance across my walls and my bed calls my name.  I gaze at my room.  Finally I walk over and slump onto my bed and look at my mirror on my dresser.  I stare at my reflection across from me, a 16 year old girl with black curly hair, caramel colored skin and milk chocolate eyes stare back at me.  I look away, I've never been able to stare at my reflection in the mirror for long periods of time.  It bothers me, I remind myself too much of my mom.  Heartbreaking honestly, I always hear 'You look just like your mom!' My thoughts were soon interrupted by a pitbull shoving his way through the door.

A smile appears on my face. "Hi, baby!" I coo as my pitbull's ears go back and his tail wags rapidly.

    "Aw, hi Miles!  Where have you been, huh?  Did you miss me?!"  Miles whines and licks my palms and forearms.  Then stops to look at my face curiously as if he's asking 'what's wrong?' My dad pokes his head into my room, Miles wags his tail, my dad smiles.

    "¿Tienes hambre?" he asks.

    "Yeah, what's for dinner?" I ask curiously.

    "Pizza."

    "Want some help?"

    "Only if you want to," he responds walking down the hall.  I stand and follow him and Miles follows behind me wagging his tail happily.

    "Do you have homework?" my dad asks as I walk into the kitchen.

    "Finished it," I lie.  I always do it at night when he's asleep.  I work better that way, even though it's not good for me.

    After Dinner is made and served my dad takes his food to his room to disappear.  I take mine to my room too, Miles trots behind me.  I worked on homework from 6'o clock to 9, I set my homework aside and take my laptop and log into Facebook.  I smiled when I saw a message in the notification. My crush Hunter had messaged me, I click on it.  Soon it went from being 9 to 11 in what felt in what felt like 5 minutes.  A simple 'hello' with a smiley face turned into a question game, only it stopped when he asked a serious question.

Hunter: Who's your crush?

    My smile disappears, my stomach drops, and my heart flutters like a butterfly.  I have trust issues and as much as I'd love to tell him, I'm scared.  I only have a handful of friends, mostly guys.  My fingers dance across the keyboard as I typed.

Dusty: Tell me yours first...

    I hit send.  Part of me wanted him to say 'you' but a gut feeling told me otherwise.  His reply dinged, notifying me I got a message, I click on it, reading it made me smile.

Hunter: I asked you first   

Dusty: I gotta go to bed ask me tomorrow maybe ill tell you... maybe   

    I respond quickly and shut the laptop.  I glance at the clock 11:15.  Dangit. I have school tomorrow.  I stand to change into comfy clothes.  I pull spandex and an oversize t-shirt out of a drawer and quickly change.  Then I slowly drift off.