His True Love

Chapter One: Let me introduce myself

Elliott

Sitting under the big oak tree in the middle of campus, I watch the football team throw a football back and forth and pretend to tackle each other. They are laughing and having fun, making me jealous of what they have. I have no one. Just me. Just Elliott. It seems like a depressing life, but don't worry I've been used to it just being me for a long time and have come to peace with it. I don't trust easily. I don't have a lot of friends because of it and there is no one in my life that I can honestly call my best friend. Sad, I know. But as I sit and watch the football team goof around playing catch, I wish I could have that, even if it is just for a little bit. Oh well life is what you make of it. I am okay with it for now. Besides being Elliott isn't a bad thing. I'm proud of who I am, I'm just an introvert. And a little scared of people, especially confident people. I'm not ugly by any means. I am a gym rat, I love the feeling of lifting weights, not so much that I am a bodybuilder but just enough that you know I work out. I am six foot with an Italian complexion which attracts looks everywhere I go, and if my over all looks doesn't get attention, my dimples do. I have deep dimples on both sides that, from what I'm told, are panty droppers. Too bad I'm not into dropping panties.

Those football players across the yard are my cup of tea and that guy with the blonde hair, blue eyes and body made from Zeus himself is what I like. Staring usually isn't my thing but when Dak Jacobsen is around I can't help but stare. He grabs my attention like no other. When I see him look in my direction, I look back to my book. I don't want to be caught eyeing him up. Lord knows he loves the attention. At least I assume so, he is always smiling and just happy to be with everyone like he is now.

I really should be reading my book. Its on marketing. I'm a double major - graphic design and marketing. It is a bit rigorous but what else do I have to do? Nothing, that's what. I am in my sophomore year at Tennessee University. I love the creativeness that graphic design enables me and it pairs well with marketing. In marketing you have to design a lot so I figured getting the degrees together will make life easier when looking for employment when I graduate. I do have a couple of small jobs on campus, one of which is being one of the many marketers for the sports teams, specifically the football team. It's fun and allows me to be outside my head for a little while.

Sighing, I lean back on the tree and look up, the sky and oak leaves with its big branches comfort me. I love the Tennessee weather. I'm from the south, Florida to be precise, and it's just so hot there all the time. Tennessee is hot, don't get me wrong, but it's not so hot you can't breathe outside. It's beautiful with all its mountains and waterfalls. It's so peaceful. I visited here a few years ago and fell in love. It's been my dream to live here ever since. And now it's a reality.

Looking back to the team, I see Dak looking at me with a small smile on his face. I blush and look back down to the book I'm reading. It's a love story, of course. Although I've never felt true love, I dream about finding it. I dream about finding that one person who will love me unconditionally. It must be a high to feel that way.

Oh well, looking at my watch I see it's time to get to class. I put all my book in my messenger bag, grab my water and stand up. Just as I do, I hear "watch out!"

I turn towards the yelling and get hit by a football in the chest. Taking a deep breathe and closing my eyes for a second, I look up and Dak is standing there looking at me.

"Hey, man. I'm sorry about that. That dummy has no aim. Can't throw a ball for nothing."

I just nod my head as an acceptance to his apology. I'm still having trouble breathing and standing this close to a Dak, while he is talking to me isn't helping either. His smell is something I have never experienced.

"You good?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'm good." I answer a little breathless. Seriously the ball hit my chest hard, knocked the wind out of me.

Dak reaches his hand out, "I'm Dak."

I smile and shake his outstretched hand, "the whole school knows who you are, man. I'm no different."

I go to pull my hand back, but Dak squeezes it for just a second and seems almost reluctant to release my hand. I take a step to the side, I'm going to be late for class and I hate being late - one of my biggest pet peeves.

"Alright, so I'll see you around... I got class to get to..." I say as I start walking away.

I get about twenty feet and look over my shoulder to see Dak looking me over. I shake my head and smile.  It's nice to be noticed but hopefully he stays where he belongs - with the popular jocks.