right on. Alex’s plan had backfired and I think she knew it too; her posture tightened awkwardly as if something just bit her. Brent was interested in her, not me. At first, it was a relief. I looked forward to messing with Alex about it later, until I realized how insulted I felt. Alex and I looked a lot alike, being sisters and all, but guys were always more into her than me. What is it? I said to myself. Did I get more of the plain or ugly genes than she did? Is it that Alex is more outgoing, more likable? Is it because she’s the older sister? Wait a second, why do I even care? I’m not the slightest bit attracted to this guy, even though he does look like Ian Somerhalder....
Alex interrupted my thoughts suddenly.
“That’s right, you play football,” she said to Brent. “Adria loves football.”
“No I don’t !” I didn’t mean to shout, but I hated football. I hated sports in general, at least the competitive version of them. Alex was so desperate to turn the tables back on me that she had resorted to blatant lies.
“I mean, I’m not into sports,” I said. “Sorry.”
“It’s cool,” said Brent. “Most girls I know aren’t into sports, unless you’re one of my sisters.”
“That’s nice,” I said, trying to hide the smirk, but I know Alex saw it, at least.
I don’t think Brent meant to offend me. He just gave me a weird feeling, putting me in the ‘most girls’ category. I liked to think I was my own person. And like competitiveness, I hated categories.
I stood and slung my backpack over my shoulder. “One sec,” I said, putting up my finger. I reached into the bag and pulled out a cell phone. It was a Pay-As-You-Go; I had been out of minutes for two weeks and the battery was dead, but I still carried it around. I pretended to be checking a text message. “Mom needs us to pick up some Advil on our way home.”
“Oh...,” Alex caught on quickly, “ok, well we better go. I guess I’ll see you later then?”
Brent smiled and walked away with his hands in his pockets.
“Good save,” she said to me.
We waited until he was out of earshot before leaving my special tree and heading in the opposite direction. She walked with a slight limp on that left foot, but I didn’t say anything.
“You did it again,” Alex said accusingly.
“Did what?”
“Always looking for a reason—you know what I mean.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes you do,” Alex argued. “You’ll look for a reason to not like a guy until you find one. He can be perfect, but you’ll find one.”
“You’re not into girls are you?” she added warily.
“No!” I laughed. “And no one’s perfect; besides he’s a jock, Alex. You know I’m least attracted to jocks.”
“And preps,” she said.
“And conceited jerks,” I added.
“I know,” Alex laughed, “You don’t like anyone !”
“That’s not true,” I said as we slipped into the forest down the asphalt bicycle path. “I like Taylor Kitsch and that guy in Supernatural .” I couldn’t think of his name. “Jared Padalecki!”
“You only like him as Sam Winchester, so it doesn’t count.”
“Yeah, so.”
Alex shook her head. “Adria, you’re hopeless!”
Massive trees towered over us, blocking most of the moonlight from the clear dark sky. The bicycle path through the park was a short cut to our house, only by a few minutes. We always took this route after 8:00p.m. because the other way was right past Jeff’s mother’s house. She was more of a troll than our nosey neighbor, Mrs. Willis, was.
During the day the park was full of joggers and bicyclists. At night it was desolate and eerie. Even with the sound of the freeway in the distance, I still felt like I was far away from home, lost in the wilderness somewhere; after all, we weren't so far from the mountains. But tonight was different. I wasn’t alone.
And you always let down your guard when you’ve got company.
“Brent must’ve overheard me talking to Liz,”
Alex interrupted my thoughts suddenly.
“That’s right, you play football,” she said to Brent. “Adria loves football.”
“No I don’t !” I didn’t mean to shout, but I hated football. I hated sports in general, at least the competitive version of them. Alex was so desperate to turn the tables back on me that she had resorted to blatant lies.
“I mean, I’m not into sports,” I said. “Sorry.”
“It’s cool,” said Brent. “Most girls I know aren’t into sports, unless you’re one of my sisters.”
“That’s nice,” I said, trying to hide the smirk, but I know Alex saw it, at least.
I don’t think Brent meant to offend me. He just gave me a weird feeling, putting me in the ‘most girls’ category. I liked to think I was my own person. And like competitiveness, I hated categories.
I stood and slung my backpack over my shoulder. “One sec,” I said, putting up my finger. I reached into the bag and pulled out a cell phone. It was a Pay-As-You-Go; I had been out of minutes for two weeks and the battery was dead, but I still carried it around. I pretended to be checking a text message. “Mom needs us to pick up some Advil on our way home.”
“Oh...,” Alex caught on quickly, “ok, well we better go. I guess I’ll see you later then?”
Brent smiled and walked away with his hands in his pockets.
“Good save,” she said to me.
We waited until he was out of earshot before leaving my special tree and heading in the opposite direction. She walked with a slight limp on that left foot, but I didn’t say anything.
“You did it again,” Alex said accusingly.
“Did what?”
“Always looking for a reason—you know what I mean.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes you do,” Alex argued. “You’ll look for a reason to not like a guy until you find one. He can be perfect, but you’ll find one.”
“You’re not into girls are you?” she added warily.
“No!” I laughed. “And no one’s perfect; besides he’s a jock, Alex. You know I’m least attracted to jocks.”
“And preps,” she said.
“And conceited jerks,” I added.
“I know,” Alex laughed, “You don’t like anyone !”
“That’s not true,” I said as we slipped into the forest down the asphalt bicycle path. “I like Taylor Kitsch and that guy in Supernatural .” I couldn’t think of his name. “Jared Padalecki!”
“You only like him as Sam Winchester, so it doesn’t count.”
“Yeah, so.”
Alex shook her head. “Adria, you’re hopeless!”
Massive trees towered over us, blocking most of the moonlight from the clear dark sky. The bicycle path through the park was a short cut to our house, only by a few minutes. We always took this route after 8:00p.m. because the other way was right past Jeff’s mother’s house. She was more of a troll than our nosey neighbor, Mrs. Willis, was.
During the day the park was full of joggers and bicyclists. At night it was desolate and eerie. Even with the sound of the freeway in the distance, I still felt like I was far away from home, lost in the wilderness somewhere; after all, we weren't so far from the mountains. But tonight was different. I wasn’t alone.
And you always let down your guard when you’ve got company.
“Brent must’ve overheard me talking to Liz,”
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