www.whyville.net Sep 28, 2008 Weekly Issue



msof57
Times Writer

Are You Afraid to Cry: Part 3

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I squinted to see if I could see anyone inside. A dark figure was moving with a long stick. I knocked. The janitor looked up. I slipped my student ID out of my back pocket and waved it in the glass door. But he just rolled his eyes and kept mopping.

I sighed and turned around. The cold wind hit me and I shivered.

Embarrassed about not having a jacket, I slowly walked back to the football field. When I reached the bleachers and grabbed my stuff, I noticed the giggly high school girls who sat in front of me swarming around a tall football player.

Louis.

The one girl I noticed was the one with red hair and hanging around his neck like a piece of jewelry. She glanced around and whispered things in his ear, smiling like a complete idiot the whole time. Louis looked absolutely disgusted and kept making moves to get away.

I shook my head.

High school drama.

The redhead caught my eye and frowned.

Louis followed her gaze. His eyes met mine and he smiled. He said something to her and removed her arms from his neck. He ran toward me.

His necklace squinted at me, then flipped her long hair and left, her pack trailing behind her. I couldn't help but smirk at her annoyance toward me.

Louis was wearing his shoulder pads over a white t-shirt. His red and black jersey was draped in his arms.

"You came!" he exclaimed, walking beside me. I looked at those brown eyes and smiled.

"Of course!" I said. "I wanted to watch you cry." He smiled. I adjusted my t-shirt. "Is she mad?" I asked, standing on my toes to search for his girlfriend. He rolled his eyes. "Probably," he said. "I need to dump her anyway." I asked him why but he just shook his head

He noticed my bare arms.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked. I nodded. "The janitor wouldn't let me into the school." He rolled his eyes. "The stupid school district won't let anymore near the football field come in. The rivals of the football team have been known to sneak and side and do, well, things." I blinked. "Do you need something to keep you warm?" Louis asked, reaching over to touch my arms.

I opened my mouth to answer but he offered out his red and black jersey. I delicately took it and threw it over my head. After pulling my head through and straightening it I looked down at myself. The sleeves went past my elbows and the bottom of the jersey was half way down my thighs. Louis tried to hide a smile, but it was too late. He burst into laughter.

I giggled too.

"Thanks," I said. "That's much better." I took the ponytail I kept around my wrist and tied it up in the back. He nodded. "You look great." I blushed.

Trying to change the subject, I asked him, "So when do you need to be back at the field?" He glanced at his watch. "Not until 5:45." He looked at me. "Do you wanna get something to eat?"

After helping him get his shoulder pads off he escorted me to his old, white, beat up van. He revved up the engine as I glanced around in the seat. He shrugged. "It's not much. It was my dad's before he died." I looked at him and laughed. "It's perfect."

The van drove up in front of an old diner. "Fabulous 50's," he said, turning off the engine. "I hope you like Elvis and cheeseburgers."

We both ate our burgers in silence and shared a bag of french fries. A very bad Elvis impressionist stood in the corner lip-syncing to "In the Ghetto." "Sorry about that," muttered Louis, motioning to Elvis with a french fry. I shook my head. "It's alright. I like this song."

As Elvis finished the last note of "In the Ghetto" the jukebox in the corner began playing "Hound Dog." We both spun around in our seats to get a good look at the dance floor. It seemed no one wanted to bust a move.

Louis suddenly stood up.

He held his hand out. "You wanna dance?"

-msof57

Author's Note: Try to predict what will happen later in the story in the BBS. I'm curious to see what you guys have to say.

 

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