Love Notes (2 page)

The worst part of starting a new school is the looks you get. I would almost prefer to be invisible.

When I am as ready as I’m going to be, I head into the kitchen to grab some breakfast. Stopping short as soon as my feet touch the linoleum, I spot my dad drinking a cup of coffee at the bar. I inch my way into the kitchen hoping against hope that he ignores me and pretends that he can't see me. My hope crumbles when I hear, “Charlie is that what you’re wearing? It looks like you’re completely trying way too hard.”

Aw, stupid hope.

I glance down at myself. I’ve never professed to be fashionable in any way. However, I do pride myself on wearing clothes that fit and don’t make me look frumpy. I dress for my size and shape. I’m wearing a pair of slimming boot cut jeans with a dressier tank top and a short sleeve cardigan that at least covers some of my butt and a pair of wedged sandals to help me look taller, not to mention my hope to look slimmer. If I was only a little taller I would’ve been better proportioned.

I can’t help but question his remark and try to not let it get to me, trying being the operative word. My mom chooses the perfect time to walk in, still dressed in a robe. She must have heard some of this conversation because she looks at me with indifference really but says that I look fine. I choose this moment to bolt.

My relationship with my mom is strained at best. We rarely speak and she’s like a shadow. She allows my dad his freedom of speech and sits back and let's it happen, regardless of the impact is has on me. I don't know how many times my dad has been on a rampage she has made an excuse to up and leave the room. She wants no part of it. I have tried talking to her about it in the past but it has proved futile. Her only advice is to stay out of his way. The funny thing is…, I do.

It doesn't seem to matter though.

No matter what I do I anger him.

As soon as I climb into my Jeep, I feel lighter. I feel as if the weight of all of the house bull shit falls away and I feel instantly better. You know how some people have a safe haven? My Jeep is “it” for me. Maybe because I paid for it with my hard earned money. A job I had to beg to have. I worked so hard for several summers to save the cash. Summer time was never a fun time for me, like it is for most teenagers.

Or maybe it was?

It meant not being home and enduring whatever would be dished out at me. When most teenagers were out with their friends having fun, I was begging for a summer job. So yes, I love my Jeep, which I've named Lexie. Why Lexie you ask? Because it's girly, simple as that. It’s white and the top comes off. I pull my iPod out of my backpack and plug it in. It’s the first thing I do every time I get in it, like a ritual. Music soothes the soul; at least it helps soothe mine.

Before I know it, time has flown and I’ve reached my destination, pulling into the senior parking lot. As soon as I park, I take a deep breath and exit my beloved Jeep. Shutting the door, I look around and see clusters of groups all over the parking lot. Every school is different. You generally have your skaters, preps, jocks with cheerleaders of course, nerds and over achievers. I also see a herd of rednecks, it’s Georgia after all.

You know that feeling that you’re being watched? You don’t have to have eyes in the back of your head to feel it. You just know. This is what I’m feeling the whole entire time and it has my nerves completely rattled.

I finally spot a huge building that says “Admissions Office” and walk over to it. I never received my class schedule and need to retrieve it. I hate not knowing what classes I have ahead of time. I’m desperately hoping that my schedule includes choir class. That may help me make some friends or at least make the transition a little easier for me.

As I’m walking into the building, I look down to readjust the strap of my back pack and smack directly into a person coming out of the door. Not only do I bump into this person, I fall and I fall hard! I tumble all the way straight down on my very padded ass. This was not the first impression I was going for. Without even looking up I feel mortified and am internally slapping myself for my stupidity. The instant that I look up I’m captivated by a set of perfectly bright blue eyes. I mean like bright blue, the kind of blue that reminds you of the ocean on a tropical vacation. Eyes I can’t help but get lost in. They’re almost magnetic. I quickly pray I don’t look like I’m gawking and instantly snap my mouth shut. I follow the eyes and look at the rest of him. He is by far the best looking guy I have ever seen! He has shiny dark hair and it’s such a contrast to his bright blue eyes. He has a beautiful face. All though something tells me he wouldn't like being called beautiful. The thought makes me giggle and almost makes this fall on my ass worth it. He’s broad shouldered and muscular and looks like he’s an athlete of some kind.

Suddenly, I snap out of my trance when I hear him ask me if I’m okay. As I’m attempting to speak, he reaches a hand down to help me up. I feel a rush of heat travel through me that causes goosebumps to pop up all over my arms. I don’t doubt that this reaction I’m having is solely based on my embarrassment as well as my lack of walking skills. Not to mention he’s very easy on the eye. Point for me in the klutz department and there goes that good first impression of me at my new school.

Fabulous
.

As he’s helping me up, I realize he has spoken to me again and I still haven’t answered him just like the dumb ass I am. I look him in the eye and finally find the breath in me, “I’m sorry, I looked down for just a second and I wasn't watching where I was going and I’m just sorry.” I look up to see him looking at me and smiling.

“It’s not a problem. I make it a habit to pick up pretty girls up off of the floor.” He tosses me a wink and walks away.

If it's at all possible being called pretty just completely shocked the hell out of me. I have never been called pretty in my entire life. In my head I know I must be over analyzing things. I am questioning the whole “pretty” comment. Was he making fun of me or did he really mean it? I mentally tell myself to shut the hell up and that it had to be a slip of the tongue.

Because there is no way he thinks I’m pretty.

As much as I don’t want to admit it and as preposterous as it sounds, I could have sworn there was an instant zing when he helped me up.

Could he have felt it too?

That would be crazy though.

He is hot and I’m just not.

I brush my pants off, readjust my shirt and place my bag back on to my shoulder. Holding my head up, I feel determined that this day has got to get better.

It can only go up from here, right?

Chapter 3-Maverick

Well that was unexpected. I’m in such a hurry, I mow a girl over. I’ve never seen her here before. Between the changes in my class schedule and getting ready for football season, no wonder I’m distracted. And let’s not forget about my Captain responsibilities. Oh, and my hopes for college recruitment.

There’s a lot on the line.

My thoughts stray back to the girl, whoever she is. The look of surprise on her face would’ve been comical had she not been so darn cute. I honestly felt bad but I don’t regret running into her. Bumping into her and making her fall–yes, but seeing her, not in the slightest. There was just something about her that seemed so familiar.
I know I’ve never seen her before, so I wonder if this is her first day
. That thought makes me feel worse and now I feel like an ass for knocking her over.

She’s not your typical tall, blonde but she was pretty and had big dark blue sparkling eyes. And she had curves. Something you don’t see a lot of around here. Football is so big at this school that all the girls aim to be skinny for cheerleading tryouts. It’s not talked about, but I guarantee, that at least half shove their fingers down their throat in their quest for the perfect body. Most of them don’t make it, so I don't know why they put themselves through it.

I’m not sure why I noticed her in particular, other than practically maiming her in the hallway. It’s not like I don’t have my fair share of girls to go out with. I go out all the time. I’m not a womanizer by any means. I just haven’t found anyone that is worth spending my time with. There are a couple girls that would love for me to settle down. I’m not being conceited just honest.

I make my way over to my best friend, Will. We’ve been best friends for forever. He’s the complete polar opposite of me. I’m broad and he’s lean. I’m dark headed and he’s blond. He gets me. I never have to explain myself and he always has my back. He’s also my co-captain.

I notice that he seems distracted, looking and glancing in another direction or at someone perhaps? I follow his gaze and can’t help shaking my head and chuckling. The minute I reach him I slap him on the back, catching him off guard. I can’t help but laugh even harder.

“You know Tori won’t give you the time of day right? Maybe you should just get her out of your mind and try dating someone else.” I know how Will thinks and know this is a futile conversation.

“Look at her though,” he says wistfully.

Tori’s tall with red hair. I mean naturally bright red hair, that you can spot a mile away. She also happens to be one of the nicest girls in this whole damn school and doesn’t give a shit about cheerleading or what anyone thinks for that matter. I think that’s a turn on for Will. That’s where he and I are a lot alike. Hell, it’s a turn on for me, but she’s just not my type.

And just like that, a picture of the girl I knocked over moves through my mind. Her sweet and shocked face continues to run like a film reel. The bell rings and I slap Will on the back again. “See ya at lunch, bro.”

Will just nods and slams his hands into his pockets and walks away.

Poor guy has got it bad.

I head over to my first class, which happens to be with Mrs. Jenkins, my history teacher. I walk into class and there sitting towards the back is that girl. In that moment our eyes immediately connect and Mrs. Jenkins kills the moment telling me to take a seat. I glance around and the only seat available is right next to her. So I take it.

Mrs. Jenkins then starts talking about the new girl and asks her to please come up front so she can introduce herself. Now, I’ve never understood why teachers do that, putting someone on the spot. She heads up to the front of the class and I wait with bated breath just to hear her name and find out a little more about her. I can’t figure out why I’m having this reaction to her. No other girl ever has affected me like this.

Her neck and chest are red and splotchy. I think it’s cute. She’s nervous and her voice quivers a little. I can tell she’s not a fan of speaking publicly. I can’t help but feel completely captivated by her as she speaks. I learn where she’s moved from and that she’s moved around a lot. My heart hurts a little for her. I can't imagine not living in the same place with the friends I have had my whole entire life.

Her name is Charlie.

It seems to fit her. She seems so shy, but something tells me this girl isn’t really what she seems, and she’s worth getting to know.

Charlie. For a
girl
.

It’s different, but I like it.

No, I love it.

And it’s sexy as hell.

Chapter 4-Charlie