Sunday, December 17, 2006

The Perfect Love Story (and for a warning, it is lesbian)

She entered the classroom. What was she doing here? She should be in history class right now. I scrunched down in my chair, trying to avoid her more than the stares directed to me. I was disrupting class again and she was in front of me. The teacher had excused me, but I refused to move, or rather I could not move. She was standing and was so pretty. She had a beret in her hair and was looking so pretty. It certainly turned heads.
“Hey, Vennie Charles,” she called. “You’re late for our meeting. They told me to come find you.” I looked up her, surprised. How could I have forgotten?
I forced myself to stand and slung my satchel onto my shoulder. I mumbled a “sorry, excuse me” and walked out of the room. She followed me out.
“You’re lucky to get out of Schrider’s class,” she said. “I hate math. I don’t understand it at all.” She smiled warmly as she looked at me. I got butterflies in my stomach when she did that. She was so beautiful.
“Well, I’m not that bad at that. It’s just boring. He drones on and on. I can’t help but drift off. I sit by the window, doesn’t help at all.” I laughed happily.
I looked at her face and then away. It’s her hair, I think. Her hair was a deep, dark brown and long. She was an athlete. She played soccer. She was taller than me, too. She wasn’t the first one I would pick in the crowd, but she played soccer so beautifully. It amplified and made her radiate. We continued down the hallway and I stuck my hands into my pockets. It was a hopeless dream to be her girlfriend. Harriet Burman was not a lesbian.
“So,” she said. “What experience do you have in soccer? Do you have a favourite position? I’ve never seen you play before.”
“Position? I don’t know. I don’t know any. I’ve never played sports before, not outside gym, that is.” I smiled and looked at her. “What is yours?” I said. “I’ve only seen you play goalie. You’re great at that.” I looked away. I loved watching her play goalie. I’ve watched her play ever since freshman year and I am in my senior year.
“Being goalie is all I know how to do.” She laughed and opened the door. “Here we are.”
The meeting began and ended. All of the members flocked to me, trying to recruit me to their favourite position. I knew nothing of soccer, only of what I saw from Harriet. I was afraid of being goalie because Harriet would have to coach me. I’d die if she did that. I’d burn up and die of embarrassment and love. I stood up despairingly. I regretted joining the club. The entire thing was completely embarrassing. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do now. I had missed lunch and by the time I got my books put away, everyone had fled.
I turned to the door and she was standing there. She had a friendly smile.
“Hey, you missed lunch, didn’t you?” she said.
I nodded.
“Then you wouldn’t mind eating during my period? Best stick together!” She kept smiling.
“I do have a free period. I was going to do an essay, but I’m so hungry!” I said. “I’ll run over to Radcliff’s room and sign in. We’ll meet you outside. Is that okay? I always eat under the trees.”
“Do you? Coincidence! I like eating outside better too.
I hated facing Radcliff. She always left a bitter taste in my mind. I was too happy, though. It made me so happy to finally be able to eat lunch with her. I get a period to be with her! We don’t have any classes together and I only saw her on the field. I finally get actual time to be with her and not in front of the entire soccer club.
I walked down the hallway and opened the doors that led to the outside.
There was Harriet Burman.
There was a man.
They were kissing.
My eyes burned.
I ran into the hallway, another hallway to the right and down that forever and then, finally, up stairs until I reached the very top and out onto the roof. I stopped running. The wind had picked up and whipped out at me. I huddled against the wall. I just laid there. I felt like screaming, crying, tearing myself apart and those pieces float away into the wind. I wanted the wind to pick up harder and harder and whip me. I felt stupid.
Then the door opened.
“That wasn’t what you thought it was,” she said. “I don’t like him. I want to let you that. I didn’t want that to happen. It wasn’t my choice. He made me.”
I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t answer her. The wind toned down.
She walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. I sprang away from her and hid myself on the other side of the doorway. I was crying. She followed.
“I’m sorry if you liked him,” she said. Her eyes were tear-stained.
I shifted away from her. “I wanted you,” I said.
Her eyes opened wide. Her mouth hung open a little. “Oh,” she said. She brought her hand up to her hair and looked down.
“I loved you since I saw you on the field,” I said. “First game of your freshman year.”
I moved out of my crouch and wiped my face and smiled. “I guess you don’t like me then,” I said. “No chance of that? You’re one for the men?”
She looked at me with a confused expression. “Oh, no,” she said. “I suppose I owe you the truth. I don’t really like-men.”
I blinked. She coughed.
She walked towards me and tugged at her ear. She looked down at me in my sitting position. She kissed my forehead. I fainted.
I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling. I sat up slowly and looked around. I appeared to be in a bed, the bed in the nurse’s room to be precise. I looked around and Harriet entered the room. She gave me an embarrassed smile, scratched her head, gave a quick look to me and fixed her gaze on the sink. “Awake, I see. Good.”
“I fainted.” She nodded. “You’re cute and I couldn’t help it.” She looked surprised by my forwardness.
“Oh, well. I guess I won’t kiss you anymore, right? I can’t keep taking you to the nurse’s office.”
“You’re so mean!” I acted indignant. She sat on my bed.
“Are you alright though? I didn’t think you were going to faint.”
I looked abashed, it was pretty embarrassing. “It was too much for me to handle! I was emotion-ed out. First I thought I was going to be able to eat with you, then you and that guy were kissing and then you kissed me!”
“Do you accept?” She leaned over me, her hands on either side of me so she looked directly so she was looking directly into my eyes.
“My proposal!” She sat up.
“What proposal?”
“You’re so THICK! So never mind.” She crossed her arms.
“What proposal? You never said anything! How can I accept something if I don’t know what it is?” She leaned in to my face. We were inches apart, noses barely touching and eye to eye.
“My proposal to date you.” She was so close; all I could see was her.
“Oh. That kind of proposal. Well-“ I looked down.
“TOO LATE!” She stood up and started to walk to the door.
“Wait, what do you mean ‘too late’? I accept! I accept!” She spun around and looked at me.
“Are you serious?”
“Well, are you serious?”
“I asked first.”
She looked at me impatiently and collapsed exasperatedly.
“Yes, I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
We smiled happily at each other for a frozen moment.
I leaned over and kissed her.

A/N: Some people in my fiction class asked whether or not this was from personal experience, and no, it was not. I just felt like writing a love story and it turned out to be two women.

Everyone loved it, a LOT. Ross tried to make it better (suggestions) and everyone basically growled and stood firm that it was perfect. I was rather unhappy about the beginning. Ross ripped my story apart and typed up a version (using purely only MY sentences, so adding nothing of his own work) and we had an 'exercise' with that for class. It did not go well. Everyone just thought it was perfect how it was (I felt bad for Ross, because he was correct. There were things that needed changing). This is the final version (I had originally posted up the first one, which was much longer. It used to be up to 8-9 pages, now it is 5).

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