One afternoon as I walked toward the school gates to wait for my ride, I saw a familiar figure standing by the entrance, his back turned toward me. I noticed him right away. It appeared that he was looking outside, waiting for someone. His hair was slightly longer and he was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. His gym bag was slung upon his shoulder as he leaned on the gate with one leg crossed over the other. Everything about him — his stance, his build, his hair, the back of his neck — was perfect. I walked straight past, trying my best not to brush against him as students swirled past the gates hurrying to get out of the school premises.
“Isabel.” That voice. Deep and raspy.
I kept walking until I felt his presence right behind me. He touched my shoulder and a million electric sparks coursed through my body.
“Isabel, please wait up,” he pleaded. “I was waiting for you to get out of class. I’ve been wanting to call you, but Alicia wouldn’t give me your phone number.”
Someone as good looking and popular as him is really asking for my phone number? Why would he want to call me?
My heart was beating in my chest, and I was suddenly nervous. He was just so unassuming, almost like he didn’t really know that he had it going on.A few high school girls shuffled past us, trying to get his attention. Each one had a ridiculously giddy smile painted on her face.
“What can I do for you, Jesse?” I asked. I was sincerely baffled as to what he would need from me.
He nodded his head at the swooning girls, his face blank and expressionless as he turned away from them to face me. “I was wondering if you’d like to go see a movie with me sometime.” He fidgeted with his hair, brushing it back repeatedly with his hand.
“Sure,” I answered. “Just give me a call and we’ll plan something.” I reached for my pen, wrote my number down, and handed him a torn piece of paper. “See ya!”
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