"I'm going to hate this," I announced to Marisol while we quickly got dressed in the girls' locker room. We were the last two girls in there, having had to search for our clothes which had been hidden by some of the other girls as a practical joke. Marisol was on the verge of crying because she would most likely be late for her job. I wasn't taking the delay quite so hard, but I felt sorry for her and understood when she stormed out as soon as she was dressed instead of waiting for me. I finished up alone, pulling my hair out of the ponytail and packing my bag.
I wasn't quite sure what had possessed me to think that PE as my last class of the day would be a good idea. The class was favored by athletes and cheerleaders because of afternoon practices, and being surrounded by girls who either ignored me or gave me a hard time wasn't really my dream. Having Marisol there with me was a bit of help, since it meant that neither of us felt too alone. Today had been the first time they had actually played a joke on us, but the schoolyear was just starting, and the looks and comments we were given in class were bad enough.
I gingerly brushed off my jeans once more, trying to get rid of the dust they had collected while sitting on top of the east wall lockers. My t-shirt had huge spots of water on it, probably from a leaky sink, but they would dry quickly in the heat outside. Glancing around once more to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything, I closed my locker and picked up my bag. It was past three thirty, so all the athletes should be out at practice already, assuring that I wouldn't have any nasty run-ins. I was by no means the school outcast – although I occasionally did feel that way – but Glenn Valley High School just had such a high reputation of athletic excellence that not being an athlete seemed like a pretty bad idea to most people. Everyone was hoping that we would set a new record in state championships this year, and the athletes capable of such a feat were worshipped like Gods. There were three, first Alicia Miller, who was a cross country and track runner and also captain of the girls basketball team. Lindsey Anderson was the best softball player we had, and even in the fall when she was a football cheerleader, she was already celebrated. The third, Seth Marshall, was already being called the best athlete our high school had ever had. Having played in the football varsity for all three previous years of high school, he was now starting his second year as a team captain and, according to the local paper, determined to lead the team to a state championship. Even I hadn't missed a football game in the last three years, although it usually meant sitting on the edge of the bleachers all by myself. I didn't like to admit to myself that I had a bit of a crush on him, but then again, so had about eighty percent of the female population of the school. Sometimes, I thought, you really had to wonder why in the world the powers-that-be didn't give out looks and talent on a more equal basis.
When I finally left the locker room, I ran into Audra, one of the girls I had been friends with the previous year. She had made the dance team for this year and had taken that as her cue to become an insufferable bitch, especially towards Marisol and me. She was carrying her pom pons and obviously on her way to practice, and all the acknowledgement she gave me was a look at my white shirt and the parts where it became see-through because of the water on it. I rolled my eyes at her and walked off in the opposite direction, towards the back of the school. If I went out the front door, I would have to walk past the whole dance team in their practice spot – the school's foyer – and that wasn't a picnic even without a wet shirt. The back door I was wanting to sneak out of wasn't used except maybe by football players on their way out to practice, and they would all be out on the field by now.
Crossing through a freshman hallway and past the artrooms, I decided to take the longer route past the gym so I could take a drink out of the water fountain. The hallway I was in was a senior hallway, seemingly deserted as I walked through it. When I had almost reached the drinking fountain though, the door at the hallway's end opened and Seth Marshall walked towards me, or rather, the fountain.
The blood came rushing into my face and I carefully stepped back. Athletes first, was our school's inofficial drinking fountain policy, which I didn't dare break. With a short look at me and a mumbled "Excuse me," Seth bent over the fountain and drank, giving me some time to compose myself and start breathing again. I made sure my hair looked alright should he cast a second glance at me, and I also enjoyed the few seconds he was so close to me and I could stare at his perfect body without fear of being teased about it.
He finally stopped drinking, wiped his mouth and straightened his body, and suddenly he was looking at me. Not just glancing this time either, but taking in my blushing face, my wet shirt, and I don't know what else there was to notice about me at that moment. I wasn't quite sure where to point my eyes. Staring back at him was not an option, so I chose the drinking fountain as my place of interest, wondering faintly how red my cheeks might be by this point.
"You okay?" he finally asked, actually sounding a bit concerned. I would have appreciated his question more if I hadn't been too preoccupied with the fact that this was the first time he had ever talked to me. I managed to nod and smile shakily, looking up into his green eyes for a splitsecond.
"Your shirt is... wet," he pointed out, and I plucked at the spots in question.
"I know. I dropped it in... in the shower, after gym class." I mentally cursed my voice for shaking as much as it was.
"You'll be okay though?"
He still hadn't moved from his position at the drinking fountain, and I noticed he was trying not to look at my chest. I tried to remember what bra I was wearing, and figured that it was probably a dark one that showed though the wet shirt. I wasn't stupid enough to look down and check if this was true, but nodded at his second question.
He finally pushed himself away from the fountain and gave me one more polite nod before turning around and leaving towards the football field. It was a few seconds before I dared to move, finally taking a drink at the fountain. My breath went ridiculously fast. I could feel my racing heartbeat catch up with it when I wiped my mouth and glanced down, realizing my guess had been right and my dark purple bra was showing under the white material clinging to it. I spent a few seconds contemplating if me having a fairly big chest was a good thing or a bad thing in this case, then I took a deep breath and walked towards the door, hoping I wouldn't meet anyone walking home before my shirt had dried in the late summer heat.
I spent most of the afternoon on my bed, fantasizing. The more I thought about it, the more embarrassing I found the whole situation, but the simple fact that Seth Marshall had talked to me made me absurdly happy. I considered calling Marisol and telling her about the incident, but resolved to keep my happy thoughts to myself for a bit longer. I knew I was being silly and fangirlish. Still, spending a whole afternoon picturing Glenn Valley High School's football God at the drinking fountain didn't seem like such a bad thing to me.
Finally, my mom managed to get me out of my happy trance and forced me to start my homework. I had quite a heavy classload this year and knew that I couldn't afford to fall behind with anything this early in the schoolyear. But even with that in mind it was hard for me to concentrate and to get Seth's picture out of my head.
I wore a black shirt with my usual jeans at school the next day, just to make sure I wouldn't be flashing people my bra again. I left my house twenty minutes early, and before classes started, I went to see my guidance counsellor, Mrs Jameson, to ask if there was a chance I could switch my PE class to another period. That turned out to be a mistake, since she not only considered my request an annoyance but flat out refused it. Mrs Jameson could be a real bitch when caught on the wrong day, and she must have decided to take some of the frustration out on me when she asked me instead if I would mind switching my Senior English class to fourth period.
"Why?" I asked her, and she pointed out that first period English was maxed out beyond capacity, while there were way too many free spots in fourth period English.
