Marie was very nervous that first Saturday in May. She had a good reason to be nervous: it was her first speech and debate tournament, and she was representing her school alone. So at 7 a.m., Marie had arrived at her school to head down to New Jersey with her debate coach for her first tournament. She dressed herself in black, a theatrical sort of choice, for the pieces she was performing were "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe in Poetry and a section of "The Silver Kiss" for Prose. She would also be taking part in a category called Impromptu, a category she was very nervous about.
But the black went well with her long, breathtaking jet hair and her bright green eyes that had a sort of feline sense to them, alluring underneath her long lashes that any model would have killed for. Her 18-year-old body was slender, like a dancer combined with a runner. She had a dazzling smile and pouty, gentle pink lips like the color of a rose in full bloom.
Marie gazed at her reflection on the car's window as the sun rose over the school where the tournament was taking place, prepping herself in her mind for what would happen. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out as she got out of the car.
Oliver was stunned the moment he saw the girl dressed in black walk up the steps to the New Jersey school doors. He had heard this girl was representing her school by herself.
She may take us all by surprise. She's certainly dressed to kill.
Her black velvet skirt clung to her curvy figure, and her medieval square
Oliver was there with his school from New Jersey, doing Prose and Improv Pairs. He was aspiring to be an actor. With brown-blonde hair and a fun smile, he had a way to make people laugh and smile, being generally good-natured and comical. Oliver, who had just turned 18, was about average height, not muscled or athletic, but he wasn't fat or anything of the sort.
Marie saw the boy eyeing her from the door.
He's puppy dog cute.
He was wearing a blue shirt and shorts, very laid back for a tournament. She began to wonder what he was doing there.
Perhaps he came here to support friends.
At any rate, she had to get herself to her room where her first category, Prose, was taking place.
Oliver watched the dark girl enter the classroom, a nervous look on her face.
We are both doing prose.
He decided to finally say something. "Hey, you look a bit nervous," he whispered, leaning over towards her. She had taken the seat next to him.
"First time doing any of this," she replied a bit shakily.
"Just try not to get first, and take notes on what other people do to mark time and such."
"Thanks."
"I'm Oliver."
"Marie."
"What else are you doing?"
"Poetry and Impromptu." Marie was a bit perplexed and annoyed. Who was this guy, and why was he interrogating her?
"Quite a bit for someone so new."
"Coach thought I would have a shot at all of them." Marie raised her chin a little angrily.
And how did he know I'm new? Oh, why didn't I sit somewhere else?
"What about the rest of your team?"
"I am the team, today."
"Really?"
Someone who looked like a teacher came in. The judge for this round. "Quiet everyone! We are about to get started. Now, everyone please write your number, name, and piece for this round on the board." The tournament had begun.
As the day wore on, and the two moved on to their separate events, Marie noticed that Oliver arranged to see her between his event rounds for the tournament. After the first round, they never had an event in the same room again. It appeared that she was partaking in more events than he was, and he could afford the time to come find her after their first round together. At first, she was a bit suspicious of this behavior, but she had come to enjoy the attention during the last few rounds.
He likes me,
she thought, and she smiled slyly to him as he slipped into a chair to watch her perform in her final round of Impromptu.
