Back Again: A Love Story

Chapter 1

It had to have been the way he had looked at me that fateful night at the lake, the way his sixth grade charm swept through my mind like a wave. It might have been the way he talked to me without reservations and answered my stupid fifth grade questions as if they were anything but ridiculous. 

"Is sixth grade scary, Jake? Is it different than fifth?" I had asked. We had been trying to fall asleep for hours, but our bunk beds had never been that comfortable.

"Not really," he had answered. "It's the same but, ya know, different teachers." I could see him smile through the dark, his slightly crooked pearly whites shining. "You'll be fine. You're smarter than me anyways."

I sighed. "Oh," I blushed, glancing away, "that's good, I guess," I murmured, grinning back at him. Then we stayed like that, just staring at eachother, like we could never quite get enough. Well he might've, but I never had. Probably never will. 

The lake came and went, as did our pointless conversation that seemed to stick with me. Word by careful word. I couldn't understand why I liked him so much. It must be the way he was and is now. Like when his hair would blow in all directions and the insane way he could puff out his cheeks to resemble a monkey. The way he could drive us around on the jet-ski while I held his waist and screamed when he would get us wet. But most of all, it was the way my little fifth grade self thought he was the optimum boy, the one.

He was tall for sixth grader, coming up to my dad's shoulders, and had a lanky body. One that would eventually grow out in a few years, but long nonetheless. He had a humor about him that drew people in, wanting to know him, talk to him, be with him. Underneath his monkey resemblance skills were talents that only few people could acquire. 

All throughout high school the football team praised him as he was the next star, as quarterback and runningback. I would sit on the bleachers cheering his name loud enough for the crowd to hear me, but for it to fall on his deaf ears. 

It wasn't as if I had never existed past the lake, he knew who I was and such, but that is where all communication stopped. Occasionally we would have joint family dinners together and the rare texting conversation, but in the end, we had gone our separate ways. 

He had taken the athletic, street-smart-not-really-book-smart, popular, slut dating path, while I stuck to the somewhat athletic, academic, popular-but-didn't-stick-out way. We shared the common basics, bred in a wealthy home, head on (relatively) right and resources to make sure our life turned out the way it was supposed to be, but similarities ended there. While he stuck out like a rock star and had girls swooning over him, I became the intimidating girl that few boys had the guts to talk to.

But to this day my heart just won't stop beating faster when I see him. 

I could see him at the end of the hallway now, swarmed by the rest of the football team and, luckily, not so many girls. The skank he calls a girlfriend goes to a different school, known for being the "county slut."

I casually walked down the hallway, sending out an aura of confidence and don't-mess-with-me attitude. Freshman avoided my walkway, sophomores glanced nervously at me, and my friends quickly took up my sides. They filled the space with empty conversation retelling the gossip I had missed the night before, an attribute that could be beneficial at times. 

It wasn't that I didn't know what was happening, I just swayed from the drama. Call me stuck-up if you want, obviously thinking that I don't care. But, in reality, I have always had the problem of seeing the big picture. Thus, I don't care about gossip or what the hell happens anyways.

But, in the back of my mind I was still subconsciously watching him from the corner of my eye, drinking his muscles in and the way he sauntered down the hall as if he owned the place. Holding back a sigh, I turned my attention to my friends, wanting to drown my ancient crush on meaningless chatter.