𝓜𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝔂 𝓓𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓼 𝓘𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼

Charlie Conway

I trotted through the halls of my not so glorious school. I was here on scholarship for figure skating. More so, Twirl Girls, as most jocks like to say. We're more than 'twirls' and 'whirls'. Some people think it's so easy to be a figure skater, but it isn't. They say hockey is hard and this sport isn't. They want to change our school mascot, and some people aren't too fond of that idea, nor am I?

Warriors.

We're undefeatable, so why change our motto and mascot now?! There's not really a point, we've got too many stupid jocks, so that won't change.

I headed up the stairs to my next class. The stairs were always packed at this time of day. 10:30. Everyone was getting ready to exchange home rooms and go to new ones. Every morning, the hockey players were sweaty because they don't shower, mainly the JV boys. I don't know them too much because I don't bother with them. They're not my type.

My books fell from my hands when someone else collided with me. I grasped the hand rail next to me before I fell. The other person had stumbled back a little. People continued flowing up and down the steps, kicking our books and notes down the stairs. Whipping my head up, I blew my long dirty blonde hair out of my face.

Walking down the steps, there began to be less people. Reaching the bottom, I had started shuffling all the papers and books together. Seeing an Algebra I book and a World History book, as well as all of their papers scattered across the steps and floor.

Picking up random papers, someone had spoken up. "We'll see you at class, Charlie!"

"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes!" He called. Seeing hands reaching out to grab some papers. I kept my head down as I picked up any papers and both books. I had Algebra I, so I'd assume his was World History.

Standing up now with our books in hand, he was shuffling through the papers, separating both piles. "Hey, I'm sorry about bumping into you."

"More like hitting me, but it's all right." I replied.

"Literal, I'm quite fond."

I wasn't sure of his tactic of picking up the ladies worked well with me. I'm quite stubborn and so far, he made me a little upset. He happened to be a jock as well. I didn't know who he was, but knew he was a jock. The way he talked, walked, and wore told me that he was a jock. Always up with the latest 'trends'.

He chuckled but stopped quickly when he realized that I was real serious. He passed me his papers. "Here, believe these are yours."

"Thank you, and these must be your History papers. By the way, the first world war started July 28th 1914. And here, the cause, we believe, was because of the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Took 'em a few tries to kill him, but they got him afterwards." I told him, handing him his notes and book back.

I turned on my heel ran up the steps quickly to get to my class. I was so late and knew it too. I didn't want to look like a smart kid or a nerd in front of that boy. Did I really tell him all that? Gosh, I'm so unlikable and there's my reason why. I'm stubborn and a know-it-all! Ugh!

Entering my class, the teacher stopped talking, turned on her heel and looked directly at me. On her absence board, I heard her scratching something off with her pen. My name maybe? "Miss Clarke, why is the reason you're late to my class?" She asks me, standing straight with her arms now brought to her sides.

There was absolutely no excuse to give out to her. "Um, someone ran in to me on the steps on the way here. We had to gather our books and sheets. I'm sorry Miss Claire, it won't happen again, I assure you."

Hearing whispers right after I spoke, I knew it was his teammates. Though, there was a girl talking amongst them. Was she on the team? Or just a friend of theirs? "She's hot."

"Shut up, Averman."

"What?"

"You can't even talk to girls."

"Yeah, at least Charlie can."

Miss Claire spoke up. "Quiet at the back of the class!... You may take your seat, Isabelle."

I nod and sit down.

At the end of the day, I walked out of the school with my backpack and skating bag. I brought my hand to the top of my head, collecting the sweat, but also pulling back the loose strands so they weren't in my face. Practice went real well today, but at the end of the day in my Physical education class, that boy, Charlie I believe was his name, and his friends, wouldn't stop staring me down. That is, until his red headed curly haired friend came over and spoke to me. He was quite funny; made me laugh.

"Hey." I hearkened. Looking around as I stopped at the end of the street before crossing. I noticed the boy from earlier today. I pondered over what he wanted. Walking up next to me, he faced me as his hair blew in the wind and he brought his hand to his neck, seeming like he was real nervous. "I want to apologize for this morning on the stairs. I really didn't mean to and next time I'll be watching out."

I giggled and looked away, pulling my hair back and tightening my ponytail. "Wow, for a jock, you're funny." I told him, looking at my feet.

"A jock? That's all you heard from me?"

I sighed and turned, facing him. "No, but most jocks don't keep their promises. Besides, I know you're a JV hockey player."

He smiles widely and I walk across the street, and he, of course, follows me. "Hey, wait up! I didn't catch your name."

"Are you telling me that we've been in gym class together for a week and you still don't know my name?" I asked him, heading down the street still. Little stores encased the streets with their little posters or signs.

"No, I mean yes. Look, I'm not the best at talking to girls and I apologize. May we restart this?"

"Restart what?" I asked.

"This entire-oh." I laughed and looked at the poor clueless boy before me. He carried his hockey bag next to him and stopped. I gazed around noticing we were at Mickey's Diner. "I'm Charlie Conway." He spoke, giving me his hand.

I took his hand, shaking it as I said my name. "Isabelle Clarke. Maybe I'll see you around?" I asked.

"How about this weekend at the bowling arena?"

I pondered and brought a hand to my chin. Biting my lip, I nodded. "Sure, I'll be there at seven on Saturday night, Conway, and don't bump into me."

Walking away, he stood there. I had turned around and notice he was smiling brightly with his hands in the air as he celebrated his triumphant victory. I laughed and shook my head, fixing the strap on my shoulder as I continued down the street to my place.

I think he may be a friend to keep.