Rolling Stone - A love story

the beginning.

She was cool.

I mean I know that sounds kind of pathetic and all but she was. She was everything I wasn't and that kind of made me sick in a way I couldn't explain. I mean sure, I was known around the school, got invited to all the parties and was star quarterback of the football team, but her? Wow, she was amazing in ways I couldn't fathom a way of explaining. Even just looking at her now made my heart speed up and my chest begin to rise and fall because yeah, sure I could have any girl in this school I wanted but not her... she belonged to no one.

She was so fucking cool. Then she blurred away. I had to blink a few times just to make sure that she was real and not just a constant figure of my damned imagination. I watched her gather her books, stuff them in her bag and her white teeth nibble on some hangnail as she walked out of the classroom. It wasn't until my best friend hit my shoulder when I completely snapped out of the trance I was in and turned my attention back to my surroundings, beginning to pack some of my own things up into my bag and stand up from behind my desk.

"Day dreaming again?" Nathan asked.

I nodded, trying to make my way out of the classroom so that way I could catch a glimpse of her again. "As usual."

"You know, she's not superhuman or anything right?" He pointed out. "All you gotta do is just go up to the chick and say, Hey Ricky I think you're super hot and want to take you out."

"She doesn't work that way Nate," I mumbled, disappointed that she disappeared amidst the sea of students and faculty. "She's like...beauty and grace, I can't just coerce her into a conversation she doesn't want to be in."

"You're such a pussy you know that? You could have any girl in the world you want and yet, here you are fantasizing over this weirdo. I mean, she's going to school for art... Art, Trev. We don't date art nerds, we're football players. We're supposed to be dating like super hot cheerleaders, and prom queens. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that in order for you to finally listen to me."

"Do you hear yourself right now?" I chuckled, opening up my locker and shoving my books in from last period to grab my materials for the next. "I'm supposed to date one of the cheerleaders because that's just about what every teen movie has stated for me?"

"Uh... yeah?" Nathan chuckled, punching my shoulder. "Get your head out of Ricky's ass if you're not going to talk to her. ––– Amber's been asking about you."

"I don't care about Amber asking about me." I huffed, slamming my locker and rolling my eyes, heading towards the cafeteria.

"Of course you do, you guys dated from freshman year up until we were juniors, you don't let go of that, that fast."

"You do when she cheats on you with the quarterback of your rival team and then lies to you about it on your birthday."

"Damn it... I forgot about that. I'm your best friend, how could I forget about that?"

"Honestly? Don't know. Makes me think I'm going to have to find a new best friend."

"That's totally not in the rules. We're only supposed to stop being friends if I sleep with one of your exes or like... your sister or something and since I'm loyal you know that won't happen."

"Good because if you take one step near Cecil I'm breaking your fucking nose." Walking into the cafeteria was utter chaos, but controlled chaos if that made sense. Everybody was where they needed to be. You had the so-called art nerds in the back of the cafeteria, and then you had the football players in the corner of the cafeteria taking up at least two of the tables. Then, of course you had the theater kids, the gamers, and the emos sitting from table to table near the door of the cafeteria. But if you paid attention like me, you noticed that one girl never stuck herself to a clique... and it made my heart clench. As I said before, she belongs to no one. "Nathan, I think I'm going to catch up with you later."

His hand grabbed my arm, pulling me back before I could get to far. "Don't do it man. Don't do it to yourself. Just come to the table with us and leave poor Ricky alone."

"You basically said I should talk to her!"

"I don't know why you would take me seriously? Look at her Trevor! She's going to eat you up and fucking spit you out."

"I can take that risk."

"No you can't. You want everyone to know some art nerd turned you down when you've got those hot ass chicks back there waiting for your attention?"

"I don't want their attention... I'll meet up with you later, this isn't a discussion."

Nathan just shook his head, defeated. He knew he wouldn't win this fight. "Alright man, do whatever you have to, but I'm not coming to your rescue."

Clearing my throat I headed over to her table. She was the only one sitting there, her fork moving around in her salad, eyes divulged in a Jason Myers novel or something. I've read like, one of his books and I had to admit they were pretty good. I sat down across from her, taking in her long black hair, and tanned skin. I didn't know much about Ricky but I knew a few things. She was afro-Latina, but she didn't speak Spanish, in fact we're in the same Spanish class and she's barely managing to stay afloat. Ricky was very into superheros, I saw her once or twice at some Marvel midnight premieres whenever I went with Nathan and knew that she was perfect. I also knew that she had quite the temper which is why I wasn't surprised when her chocolate hues landed on me as I began to pull my lunch out of my backpack.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked. Turning in her seat, she looked around the cafeteria as if she was being taped or something.

"Is this seat taken?" I asked, shoving my hand into the brown paper bag I had pulling out three sandwiches. "I can move over if you'd like."

"No, I mean what are you doing here? Why're you sitting here? Your posse is going to miss you back there." She jabbed her thumb in the direction my usual table was behind her.

"Maybe I wanted a change of scenery." That got a surprised look out of her but she didn't say anything, which I took as a good sign and just continued to talk. "Jason Myers, yeah? He's a good author, I read Exit Here a while back and it honestly made me not hate reading."

"You've read a Jason Myers book?" she chuckled, shaking her head and marking her page before closing it.

I wish she didn't ask me the question as soon as I took a huge bite out of my peanut butter sandwich because I would probably have a better response for her. "Yeah," I muttered, a few pieces of unchewed bread flying out of my mouth. "Is that so surprising?"

I was surprised when she just leaned forward on her shoulders, tucking hair behind her ear. "I mean, I don't know. You've got that complete douche-bag football player persona going on so it was always hard for me to try and figure you out." Holy fuck, she's tried to figure me out. "I mean, you just look like your type of extensive reading is Playboy or something."

"Hey, I never said I didn't enjoy a bit of Playboy in my spare time. I just said I liked to read a bit of Myers' stuff."

"Cool." She grinned, moving back to get a forkful of salad and place it in her mouth. I know I shouldn't have been staring so hard but I swear I forgot how to chew. The way her lips wrapped around her fork and the way her eyes remained on mine... Jesus Christ, I needed a bathroom and quick.

"Y-yeah." I swallowed hard before clearing my throat. "Cool."

"So," she started again after she had finished chewing and swallowed the contents in her mouth, unlike me. "What really brings you over here? Did Senor Mars send you over here to talk to me about the last Spanish test or something? I know I bombed it and stuff it was just so hard."

I frowned, "You're having that hard of a time in Spanish?" I didn't want to seem like a stalker, though I was borderline going all Gatsby on her, so I acted like I didn't know.

"Oh don't give me that," she said rolling her eyes. "I know what you're probably thinking too. Your mother speaks Spanish, you should know that shit. Well, my mother doesn't speak Spanish and my Abuela considers her a lost cause. I don't want to be like that too, but it's just a lot to learn."

"I can teach you... I mean if you want. I can tutor you, and in return you can help me understand what Mr. Abrams just taught us thirty minutes ago, I don't get what he means about that whole Hamlet think you know? Why is his dad stuck in purgatory? Why does he keep talking to himself? Why did his girlfriend kill herself?"

"God, you are a lost cause aren't you?" she giggled. Damn, she was so fucking beautiful when she smiled. "Fine, I'll help you study for our upcoming Hamlet test.. –– Oh no, don't give me that face, you didn't know we had a test?" I shook my head. "Oi vey, we've got to get you ready for this. It's next week! We'll worry about you first and then, you'll help me prepare for finals, alright?" I shook my head, incapable of speaking. I just started talking to this girl and she was already treating me as if she knew me forever. "Just do me a favor okay?"

"Anything you need," I said, leaning forward. "Anything."

"When you come over, don't tell my Abuela you're the one teaching me Spanish. She thinks white people are the devil, unless you're Mark Wahlberg or Matt Damon, and though you've got the '95 Mark Wahlberg look, you're no Marky Mark."

"Your parents won't mind me coming over?" I asked, a bit worried about her response.

"My father's over seas and my mom's affair takes up most of her time so you'll probably only ever see my Abuela, but anyway, just don't mention it alright?"

"Alright, you've got my word." The bell rang signaling that our lunch shift was over and it was time to head to class. "So we start tomorrow?"

She just laughed again, tossing her hair over her shoulder before giving me a sly eye. "You'll come over after practice. I'll be expecting you."