House number 368

Chapter 2: The Meeting

Day 1: Blue jeans ran by

Day 2: He ran by, not once but twice

Day 3: He walked by talking and joking to a boy that looked his age

Day 4: He ran by, slowing to a jog as he passed my house

Day 5: He ran by with four other kids his age, but with a a forty- year old male following close behind on a bike.

Day 6: He finally stops. What to do?

I was mid-song when I felt, and heard, a presence behind me. Nobody distracts me when I am practicing basketball except for my stepmom because  dang! She's loud. I shot an easy three-pointer on the last beat and collected the ball. "Sup Blue jeans, can I help you? You have been watching me for like two minutes." I ask, turning around to face him. "No, but I can help you." "Oh really? What is my supposed ailment?" I ask, bouncing the ball back and forth through my legs and from side to side. " You're lonely. I have noticed everyday that you are always out by yourself. So I have come to be your savior. And what is with the name, Blue jeans?" He says, pointing a finger at me.

Cue the sarcasm. "Oh my savior, how much I have needed you! Thank you for rescuing me from the dark pit of loneliness, I don't know if I could continue without your help. And for the name, you look like a kid that wears a lot of jeans. Now you here to play or are you just gonna stand there?" I say, chest passing the ball to him.

"Sure but for every basket, you get to ask a question and you have to answer." Blue jeans says. "I go first!" I scream before he can. Haha! you snooze, you loose.

I start with  a simple lay-up. "Okay, Blue jeans. How tall are your parents?" He lines up to take his shot," Umm.... weird question but my mom is 5'5 and my dad is 6'4. My turn, What is your full name?" "Oh Yeah! I thought you would never ask. My name is Mia Paisley English." My shot from the foul line goes in. "What is your least favorite color?" 

"I got to say orange or brown." His shot from a post goes in. "What is your ideal pet?" " Ahh, nice one. It would have to be a camel to spit on all the crusty camel-toe trolls in the world or a shark. I would ride and be like 'skeet, skeet chickens! Get out of my way or you're becoming fish food." 

"You are such a character. But, are you gonna shoot or what?"  "I pick or what. Now, please let me go zen mode." I say taking a deep breath bringing my left hand to my chest. I shoot just inside the corner three-point line. "What is your zodiac sign?" "Please tell me you aren't one of those weird people who believe in the zodiac readings or whatever they're called?!" "Oh, No! I just want to know how compatible we are." I say in the best innocent voice I can conjure.  He starts laughing. "No. I am not. Shut up and answer the question or I will kick you off my driveway!"  "Dang so aggressive, no wonder you have no friends." Blue jeans says, smirking.

"Thanks for forfeiting your next two turns. Now answer the question before you have to make a weird trick shot." That sure wiped the smirk off his face. "Ugh, fine. I am a Cancer. Now where is my trick shot?" "You have to stand at the end of the driveway, which is a good 70 feet, and make it without hitting the back board. If you do, you can get my phone number and my house key." 

He ran down the driveway and turn to make the shot. He wouldn't make the shot. His arms weren't positioned right. He threw the ball with a nice arch, but the ball hit the back board next to the hoop and the ball bounced to the ground. 

"God damn it. I want to see you try and make the shot." His string of curse words are longer the the Great Wall of China. "Okay, Tike. Stop fussing like a baby with a sailors mouth. What do I get out of it?" "You get a super awesome friend and my contact." "What makes you think I want that?" Now it's my turn to smirk. "This sexy face and smoking hot body makes you think that."