The Quarterback Dilemma

Monday 12 February

He has a girlfriend. I have been trying not to consider this. The list of my sins is long enough as it is without taking that particular crime into account. She is blonde and blue-eyed, of course but there the stereotype ends. I hate to say it, but she is actually quite nice. And intelligent. She isn’t even a cheerleader. She has never paid me any attention, of course. In 3 years of school she hasn’t once spoken to me, or even acknowledged me. But why would she? She has a crowd of friends, all gorgeous and wealthy and glowing with the joys of being 18 and full of potential. Why would she even notice me, skulking around, hiding under my existentialist fringe, totally unsure of my place in the world? And with that word ‘fringe’ I give away the reason for my insecurities. I am hardly an All-American Homecoming Queen. I’m not even American. I am dark haired, with a liking for clunky boots and scarves that hide most of my body, into which I mumble the remnants of my once strong Northern English accent.

The Quarterback thinks my accent is sexy. I have just remembered something he said yesterday as his breath tickled my skin and I can feel a hot blush radiating across my face. The girl opposite me is trying to see what I am writing.

I can hear The Girlfriend laughing on the other side of the library. It is a tinkly, joyous laugh and it twists my guts.