Mr footballer meets his childhood crush.

Mr foot baller meets his childhood crush...1

2011

My story ,

The story of how I met him. The football player.

(Prologue)

Six years Earlier ( First encounter)

2005

I shot up extra early, way before mum yells out "its time to get UP FOR SCHOOL".

It was a new year and my first day back at intermediate for form 2. ( I don't know what that is in American Education but here in New Zealand is when your 12/13 years old.) I wanted to make a special effort to look presentable this year in the front of my new fellow class mates unlike last year where I was more manly then girly . I hopped in the shower.

............20 Minutes Later..........

After my shower I got my comb out and combed my light brown curly hair to perfection in a high pony tail and platted the rest of my hair. ( back then that was the style at my school). Well you see I have armond shaped Chocolaty brown eyes, "the perfect tan that you were lucky to be born with" my mother used to say. Tall and the perfect shape that I don't know how I got since I eat a lot and by a lot I mean A LOT .

I grabbed my backpack and headed towards the bus stop and I caught the school bus to school.

IN CLASS.

I was late on my first day of school late. Why you ask ? because our school bus showed up late making us late to school as well, dammed thing is too old and because we were late me and a couple of students missed out the class arrangement assembly where they sorted us into our new class room where we'd be staying in for the rest of the year.

I got my schedule from the front office that told me which class I would be in. I entered my new class hesitantly since the door I was pushing on was jammed causing me some trouble to actually enter it. I was so caught up with the door that I didn't see someone on the other side pushing it as well. All of a sudden the door flew open and hit me square in the face.

"OH shanap Are you alright Elizabeth?" A soft whispered voice reached my ears as two pair of strong arms brushed my ass and went behind my lower back to steady me . I looked up to the person who spoke to me to find him blushing from the contact we made more of like what he made as he lifted me off the ground and inside the class room and gently put me on a chair near the entrance. Mr Westerland who I remembered from last year as the strictest teacher in the school. From all the stories Ive heard about him I was scared to be even in the same room as him. I hesitantly shifted in my chair as Mr Westerland dapped a cold Ice pack to my now slightly swollen forehead.

As Mr Westerland was doing this I felt two pair of eyes on me, I reluctantly turned around to find him , the boy who pushed the door on me this morning. I smiled and his head snapped back to the front a faint blush forming on his cheeaks. I smiled and turned around.

And that is how the story begun.

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