chapter 2

His hand drops mine, leaving my skin tingling from his touch. His eyes never waver from mine as we sit there in the moment.

I just met this guy and he's already making me feel some type of way.

The silence in the car makes it unnerving as I shiver under his intense look.

"So..." I start. "You play football?"

"Yeah." He tears his eyes away from me and starts to eat his food.

That was weird.

"What position?" I ask even though I already know. Just trying to have a simple conversation.

"Running back." He simply answers.

"Have you seen us play?"

I don't know how to answer that. Of course I've seen them play, it's just that I never want to. They aren't what you would consider a 'good team'.

"Yeah, a few times." I admit, I try to smile but it turns into a grimace.

"We suck, don't we?" He kind of laughs forcefully, knowing that what he says is merely true.

"I wouldn't say you suck." I try to smile but fail, ending up looking guilty.

"Then what would you say?" He fully turns to me.

"That y'all don't know how to play?" I force a smile again.

I bet I look like I need to fart.

"So, we suck." He sighs.

"You don't suck...your team does." I try to make it better but fail at that too.

He looks over at me and then smiles.

"You sure do know what to say." He laughs.

"It's not like I want to play anyways."

"So, why do you?" I ask, curious.

Why would he play a sport and lose when he doesn't even want to play?

"My dad." His answer is short and simple but I still nod my head in understanding.

"He loves football, so he thought I would love football."

"So, he makes you play because he likes it?"

"Not exactly. I've always played since I was old enough to, so he always thought that I liked it."

"But, you didn't." I look at him.

"No, I realized that I never did. I want to play Baseball."

"Why don't you just tell him?" I ask.

"He wouldn't understand. He would say that Baseball isn't a real sport and that I wasted my time."

I get what he's saying. I really do. And I noticed that this simple conversation got deep quicker than we both expected.

"What do you play?" He changes the subject to me.

"I play soccer." Is all I say, looking at him until he meets my eyes.

"Soccer?" He looks surprised.

"Yeah, is that surprising?" I laugh.

"I mean, yeah."

"How?"

"You're so small and sweet, I couldn't see you in such a contact sport." He laughs, wide eyed.

"I'm not that sweet, and I'm tougher than I look." I protest, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Oh, okay, sure."

"You don't believe me?"

"No, not really."

"Okay. So last year, at one of our games, this girl was pushing up against me when I had the ball and I pushed her so hard that she fell on her face." I laugh uncontrollably.

"Turf burns all down the side of her cheeks."

His eyes widen, a smirk forming on his face.

"Damn. I need to see that." He laughs.

"Maybe I can go to one of your games sometime?"

"Yeah, that would be great." I smile, my cheeks burning.

"How about we make a deal? If I go to your games, you have to come to mine."

"Okay, deal. But, I can only come to the home games." I say, eating my food.

"Why?"

"I wouldn't have a ride for the away ones." I shrug.

"Why don't you just drive?" He simply asks.

"I don't like to drive."

"You don't like to drive?" He laughs, my face heating up in embarrassment.

Why do I always end up embarrassing myself?

"No, I don't. And I don't have a car." His laughter dies down.

"Fine. Maybe, sometimes you can carpool with my friends." He suggests, shrugging his shoulder like it wasn't a big deal.

Does he not know who his friends are?

Like they'd ever consider being in the same car as me.

"If I do that then you have to come to my away games." I smirk.

"Deal." He puts out his hand and I just look at it like I've never seen a hand before.

Obviously, I have.

"Shake on it." He pokes his hand further in my direction.

I take hold of his hand and we shake, agreeing to our terms of policy.

"When does your season start?" He asks.

"After Christmas."

"Great! That's after football and right before baseball. Everything should work out." He smiles cheekily.

"Great." I laugh.

I look at the time on my phone and realize we only have a few minutes until the bell.

"It's almost time to go inside." I inform him.

"Alright, one more thing." He says, looking at me.

"Can I have your number?" He asks.

I hesitate to answer. Staring at him in awe.

He wants my number? No one has ever asked for my number before except for my friends or job applications.

"Sure." He hands me his phone and I type in my number, putting my name and an upside down smiley face emoji.

Danielle 🙃

I give him my phone and he puts in his number, furiously tapping on the screen with a huge grin on his face.

He gives me back my phone and I look at the contact name.

Blake 😍😘❤️❤️❤️💕💕💘

I laugh and look at the screen in my hands.

"Really?"

"What?" He dumbly asks.

"Hearts?"

"So what? I'll add some to your contact." And he does. Adding hearts and heart eyed emojis.

I just laugh and look out of the windshield. Frost covers spots on the glass, some of it fogged up from the car's heater. I softly smile at the beauty of the two combined.

Then I hear a click.

"Shit." He mutters under his breath as he quickly puts down his phone.

"Were you taking a picture of me?" I ask.

He shyly smiles and looks at his phone with the picture.

"You looked so...beautiful. I'm only going to use it for your contact picture."

"Then, I need a picture of you." I say.

"What? No, I don't do pictures." He crosses his arms.

"Well, that's too bad now isn't it?"

He huffs out a breath while I focus my phone camera on him. The foggy windows accenting the picture perfectly as he looks at me, a cute smile on his face. Those pearly whites showing and his dimple coming on display.

He is undeniably gorgeous. I have no idea how he thinks I'm beautiful when he looks like that. And today is Monday! I always look horrible on Mondays. My oversized hoodie making me look big, my worn out jeans obstructing my legs, and my hair pointing in all directions from my poorly made ponytail. Nothing about me says 'Beautiful' so why does he?

I'm not gorgeously thin, with a bikini body. My hair and eyes are just a normal dark brown. Nothing special. I'm a short height of 5' 3" and that's why I look stubby. And the final horrid touch, my glasses. The big rimmed frames covering my face. Sometimes, they make me look like I have a uni-brow.

So, how does he find me beautiful?