CAROL wasn't the type of girl to ever care about shoes. She could wear heels and jump in mud puddles for all she cared. That is, if she ever wore heels. Actually, she'd never wear heels.
The guy she liked was quite the opposite of her, she knew that for sure.
Mark, on the other hand, he was the kind of guy you'd find in a book. He was your typical gentleman, opening doors for girls, giving hand kisses. You could say he was prince charming-like.
The thing was, princes went with princesses. Carol was no princess. The last girls Mark had dated were very similar in their personalities and interests. They were beautiful, with or without their caked faces. They were kind, in a way that she only saw in a Disney Princess.
As she laced up her new soccer cleats on the bleachers, she couldn't help but sigh at the thought that Mark would never like a girl like her. A girl who couldn't look like the other girls. She'd rather run suicides than wear a dress.
She looked at the new, blue cleats. At least she had one pair of nice shoes. Her cleats were the equivalent of Cinderella's glass slipper except they weren't given to her. She saved up $200 dollars from babysitting baby demons to buy those things.
When she looked up, she saw Mark beginning to approach. He had that charming smile of his, and sparkling green eyes that drove every girl crazy. "Hey Carol!" he called out, while jogging across the soccer field.
"Hey man!" she greeted, then they did that bro-hand-shake-hug-thing.
"You ready for shooting practice?" he asked.
"Hell yeah! You're gonna get a taste of my mad skills." she punched his arm playfully and he laughed. Well, to rephrase, her punch was more violent than playful and his laugh was more like a groan of pain. Her stomach couldn't help but turn as she watched him laugh through the pain. They had this odd sort of cuteness...
He took his position in the net. Mark was always the goaltender, and Carol was always the striker. That's how the world worked. The perfect pairing. Hence, they could practice together.
She kicked the ball, which landed safely in the net, after it brushed ever so slightly on Mark's fingertips. She looked at Mark, who was just kind of dazed off.
"You got better!" he exclaimed, and she placed a hand on her hip, smirking with pride.
"Excuse me, I was always good." she stated confidently.
They continued to practice for a few hours, with Mark and Carol exchanging advice and criticism. After they were simply too tired to continue, they fell onto the grass, exhausted.
"So...how was your date with Penelope?" she asked, curious about how he felt towards that other girl.
He shrugged and shook his head. "It wasn't the best. She's kind of clingy, and high maintenance."
Go figures. Not to say that Penelope was a snob, but she was a snob. She was the typical spoiled brat who got everything handed to her, and still had the audacity to gloat about it. Mark deserved a girl that cared about him.
Instead of spilling her thoughts, she just said, "Oh."
"Y'know, I just want a girl that I can talk to, without having to try too hard." he told her, looking up at the sky.
"Yeah. I get it man." she casually agreed.
"Carol, you're amazing, y'know." he started, and she started to blush uncontrollably, looking like a strawberry.
"You're like one of the guys." he finished, and it felt like ice was being poured down her head.
Guy-zoned, Carol was guy-zoned.
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