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Chapter One - Lance
See it burning in my eyes,
Don't want words don't want no lies


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LANCE

Lance
Josh is standing in front of my locker when I walk up the stairs to the Honors wing. Josh is clad in plaid, as is common with most of the honor boys. I'm different though. I've got a reputation to hold up as the quarter back for the school's football team. I wear my home jersey. I actually hate it's navy-purplish color. But there's one girl in particular that likes it.
"Hey Lance, nice game last night! Too bad about Garret though." Josh sighed. "Ya know, it hurts me to see good kids like him have their legs and knees broken or their ligaments torn because they like taking beatings."
"Well, in order to take a beating, you gotta be able to give one back." I say. "Garret just don't have it in 'em."
Josh laughed. "Lance, you crack me up. Not only are you an honor student on the football team, but you're illiterate outside class!" Josh was being sarcastic, I know it. I rolled my eyes. Then, I turned around at just the right moment, and saw her.
Sophia was walking in, her ebony hair flowing behind her. Her ice blue eyes met my green ones. "Hey Lance! Nice game!" She said as she walked past.
Josh seemed to understand. "She's pretty smoking. If you got a shot, I'd go for it." Josh winked at me, a nerdy little gesture that made me smile.
I sat down in my desk, the same desk I've been sitting in since the middle of August. It's November now, and Welker High is booming this football season. Because I'm on the team. They all say. I'm not so full of myself to believe them one hundred percent. Lars, for instance, is an amazing running back. Jake is our best wide receiver. And without Billy blocking me, I'd likely have been trampled and broken just like Garret.
I glance over at her, wondering what she's thinking. Her hair seems to shine more than usual today. Or maybe that's just me, admiring her to the point of thinking everything about her is beautiful. That just may be.
English was dull. I listened to my MP3 player during Life Science, as usual. I slept the first ten minutes of Algebra 2. The only class I really paid attention in was World History. Mainly because she sits in the desk next to me. Secondly, because with a B, World History is my worst class. I really only feel satisfied with myself if I know I'm doing my absolute best. Call it an obsession if you wish. I call it strictly set goals.
Though there is one single goal I've focused on for three years and have never accomplished it.
Confessing my true feelings to Sophia.
Sophia likes to be called Soph. I know this because she's one of my best friends. Soph hangs out mostly with guys, because many of the girls in school ridicule her. I think it's because they're jealous that she has brains and looks. Soph may not be the hottest girl at Welker, but she's probably the hottest smart girl. A bat of her eyelashes can knock out the entire honors class. I'd kill to call her mine. But that's my one drawback.
I have the courage to let myself be tackled and beat senseless, but when it comes to Soph, I'm like a baby lamb. Small, weak, and shy.
To me, Soph looks like a lion.
I go to my inbox in my homeroom. I've got four graded papers. 97% on a Calculus test. 93% on an essay. 96% on a Life Science exam. And, to my disappointment, an 84% on a World History test. I've got grades no other kid on the football team could dream of. And yet, I feel unsatisfied with myself.
Maybe it's because I can't even tell a girl I like her.
Sure, there have been girls before Soph. But none of them were the same. Some were great kissers. Some were so hot, they belonged in a Playboy mag instead of a high school. Yet, somehow, I was never really into them the way I was into Soph. I imagine taking her into my arms, then kissing her soft pink lips, just because I knew mine would be the only ones to grace them. Everything I'm too afraid to do.
If only, if only.


They say more than what is spoken,
Promises always get broken.





 
 
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