Just like any other day as a freshman in high school, I was expecting to have a dramatic day of finals testing. I was also expecting to sit through a junior high track meet, bored. I was expecting to take a bunch of pictures for the track coach. I was near ready for the long bus ride to a school I’ve only been to three times, all for track. I however wasn’t expecting to meet someone, again.
As the bus pulled into school, I knew exactly what to do, and where to go, nearing the end of the school year, it had become practically routine. I would get up, allow all the little kids who are asleep, to wake up from their tiring bus ride, and for them to get in front of me -so they wouldn’t be trampled, or left- there had been way too many times since the beginning of the year of incidences where they weren’t noticed sleeping until the bus had been parked in the bus garage. As id get off the bus, I’d say hello and good morning to the principal and id calmly and quietly walk to my locker, on the other side of the school.
At my locker, like usual I’d meet my friend Victoria, she’d be totally serious when asking, “So what’s the plan for today, Ms. Busy?” my weeks have been so busy the past eight weeks it also became routinely familiar with all my friends. Today was one of the few times where I had said we had a track meet. Today was a good day. It was as if nothing and no one could ruin it for me!
Part one of our finals. Algebra I, my most loathed subject. “Now open your booklets and you can begin. There will be no need for calculators today, but if you feel the need to have one, just raise your hand.” My teacher said. Every single one of us raised our hands. Why must math be so complicated? Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t understand it... at all.
As the class hour near ended I was on the last question, after fifty five minutes of racking my brain for any memory of what went on in the past month, I felt capable of passing this final. I was proud of myself, I felt compelled, excited, just overall ecstatic for what other good things would come my way throughout the day.
Physical Science, my favorite class period. The only class I could teach if I were asked to. Was the last class I had for the day. This class period went by the fastest I believe it had ever gone. Mr. A and I left the class early to fill water buckets and gather all the material, and that is about as much as I do as a track manager, besides the signing out with the parents but that’s at the end of the meet.
The whole bus ride to the track for about an hour and a half consisted of the bucket of ice spilling and making us late, and everyone singing a Justin Bieber hit song. I’m not sure what’s worse though, that the boys could hit the higher notes better than the girls or that we were late to the meet. For the last part of the bus ride, it got pretty awkward, having my little cousin sitting there, two seats behind me, holding hands with his girlfriend.
A while later we finally got to the track meet. Everyone ran in all different directions, getting to practice their events. Coach had me running around like a chicken with its head cut off! But, then I saw this really cute guy, with his FFA shirt on, which made him even cuter! And he had freckles, which in my opinion, ups the cuteness. The best part about it was that he kept looking at me too! I kept saying to my best friend I’d get his number by the end of the meet, -Hey, It’s not being cocky if you know you’re good.-
After a while of him and I making eye contact, and those awkward smiles you get from complete strangers, he finally came up to me, and said, “Hey, you see my friend over there? He really thinks you’re cute. He’d like to have your number.” I then replied, “He wants it? Are you sure it’s just not you that wants it?” I giggled. He blushed and said, “Well, yeah, I do.” I then gave him my number and he gave me his, and once he put mine in, he asked what my name was, I gave him my first name, and he looked at me, dumbfounded and said my last name, without me having to tell him. he staggered backwards as if I had pushed him. Pretty awkward, huh? Well, it gets worse, it turns out, we met each other a while back… at a basketball game, where I yelled at him and gave him my number there too, but somewhere between today and when I met him the first time, stupidly, I told him to delete my number.
As if I didn’t feel bad enough and in this position, how awkward is it to be introduced to the guys’ parents after them hearing so much about you…good and bad?
So here it is, not necessarily an ending to my awkward story, but to the beginning of my beautiful relationship.