𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✰ 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳 ✔

t w o ✺ the visual

t w o ✺ the visual

I walk into my room and toss myself on the bed. I saw a jersey in a frame that I had never noticed.

First Major League Jersey (R. Shaffer, #36)

It was Richie's jersey that he had worn in his very first major league game.

I bonded with my brother in many, many ways, but baseball wasn't one of them.

The problem? I never understood baseball. I didn't get the interest, or the fundamentals. All it was to me was pitch and hit.

Instead, I opted more for volleyball; that's what got me a scholarship to South Florida (I had been at a community college for the first two years of college.) I may have been one of the shortest players, but I sure packed a punch to opponents.

I look at the time.
11:39 A.M. I need to go somewhere.
I grab my laptop and my keys, hoping to find that somewhere.

Creative writing has always been my forte. Actually, that was my major. I had always written things that would appeal to my readers.

I spotted a restaurant- Rally's Hamburgers- and pulled in. Richie had rave reviews for it, and now I was going to try it for myself.

I walk in and sit at a table. I log into WritersCircle (the site I used to write my stories) and check my feed. My latest story, Heather Little: Medium At Large, had just wrapped up, and I was getting rave reviews from my readers.

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

I look up to see a waitress.

"Do you want to order?"

I close my laptop and stand up.

"Yes. I was actually about to order." I go up to the menu and scan over it. "I'll take a Mushroom Swiss Burger, some medium fries, and a medium Dr. Pepper."

"Ma'am, we only sell Pepsi products."

Damnit, Pepsi! "Then a Pepsi it is."

"Wonderful. You're order number 234." She then handed me a cup, and a card with the number 234 on it.

I went and sloshed some Pepsi in the cup, then sat where my laptop was.

I opened it, and stared at the blank screen. The white screen tempted me, with the cursor currently losing its staring match with me.

A question popped up on my screen.

What would you like to name your story?

I drag out my notebook, where I had several ideas scrawled out on paper.

Heather Little sequel? ("Heather Little Goes Big-Time")

Gainesville (Mystery)

Love, Lies, And Don't Forget Cheerleading (Teen Fiction)

Might As Well Call Me Kenny (Teen Fiction)

None of these ideas were going off in my head.

The intercom, which was playing some old 50s doo-wop song, suddenly crackled to life.

"Order 234, your food is ready. Order 234."

I stood up and claimed my order. The aroma smelled great, I thought. No wonder Richie liked this place.

I sat down, unwrapped my burger, and took a bite.

"Mmm," I told myself, "thanks, older bro." I then go for a few French fries, to make the deal even sweeter.

I watched the customers come and go. Most of them didn't really catch my eye, until one guy came in.

He had a crazy head of hair, big brown eyes, and one hell of a fashion style.

He was wearing a Tampa Bay Rays sweatshirt (hey, my brother plays on that team!), some cargo shorts, and some knee-high blue and white striped socks.

And suddenly, the lightbulb went off.
The next time he looked over, I secretly got a picture of him.

And made a mental note in my head:
Every Thursday, visit Rally's Hamburgers on Cypress Street and Fifth.

I watched his every move, from getting his food, erupting in a smile after he took the first bite, and even how he ate his fries in thirds. This guy is a perfect main character for a new story...cute but collective.

I know the story now. It was a story that, when the what is it called question came up again, was called by the name of According To Him and Her.

But little did I know, my fictional story was about to become very real.

a/n:
gang gang gang gang
nah lol, this is just the beginning of this story (:
-rease