First page, dont get used to it

There. The doors are staring back at me, the wide, gaping hole of an entrance. Beckoning me to come in and experience a whole new life. A life sure to be full of drama, excitement, fun and chaos. Taking a deep breath in, I slowly walked towards the overwhelming doors in front of me. You win this battle, doors. But be aware, I will win the war.

Am I really talking to a door? Is that what my life has come to at the ripe age of fifteen? I need more friends. I wasn’t paying attention as I shook my head at my stupid self, and I almost ran straight into a wall. Thankfully, I looked up before my ultimate high school demise set upon me. Had I run into that wall, I would have forever been known as Wall –Mart, I just know it. I had heard horror stories of upperclassmen naming freshmen Locker Face, Trash Can Allie, and Gum Shoe (not in the detective way). The seniors didn’t particularly care how smart they sounded when making up a nickname, that was for sure.

Fortunately, just after my almost run-in with the wall, I spotted Christina. I hurriedly ran over to her, hoping our lockers were next to each other.

“Christina, just wait until I tell you what almost happ- oof!!” I shouted as I fell to the floor. I felt as if I were falling in slow motion. My books went flying up in the air, fanning their pages as they tumbled. My hands jutted back behind me, as if they were hoping to be able to catch myself as I fell. I landed on the ground with a decent sounding thud, my head slamming onto the ugly brown vinyl flooring behind me.

“ooowwwwwww” I whined, running my hand through my now tangled blonde curls to see for any blood or bumps on my skull. The pounding in my head started instantly, and I knew it was going to be a killer headache for the rest of the day. Great, just what I needed on the first day: a headache and everyone staring at me. Who knocked me down? I thought as I proceeded to roll my eyes towards the ceiling to catch a glimpse at the perpetrator. Finally focusing on a face, I gasped. Not like an “I'm scared” gasp, but definitely more of an “OMG OMG OMG hes gooooooorgeous” kind of gasp.


The perp? A boy, I mean a man, of god like quality. He was tall, had dirty blonde hair of the shaggy, Zac Efron variety, and muscles that shined in the hallway lights. There also seemed to be a halo around his gorgeous head, but I could have been imaging that. Or maybe it was from the thumping in my head. Either way, this man was perfect. Even more perfect after he did the unthinkable.

He. Extended. His. Hand. TO ME! Here he was, Mr. Adorable, trying to help me up after our vicious first meeting. As to not look a fool, I accepted the gesture and rose to my flowered Doc Marten clad feet
.

“Are you alright? I’m so sorry I crashed into you; I wasn’t watching where I was going. Let me see your head, I hope it’s not bleeding or badly bruised.” Not that I heard any of that, really. All I saw was the perfect , kissable lips moving over the perfect, straight, white teeth. Did I mention this boy was perfect? Well, he was. Is. Always will be. And before I knew it, his hands were running through my hair, checking my scalp for deformities. His hands were on my head. He was not running away laughing at the stupid freshman that fell. He was not kicking my books all the way down E hall as I ran after them.

I knew right then and there, I was going to marry this man. And I didn’t even know his name.


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