Strange feelings (ii)

Her best friend's dad was a soccer coach. He was a coach, so soccer came naturally for her best friend, allowing her to always get along with boys. She was also pretty good at hiding her feelings and controlling her acting around people. She had a fast tongue, short, funny replies that always made boys laugh, and the ability to convince people of things she wanted them to believe.

There was no doubt; she was jealous of her friend, and how she was always poised, cool and calm, causing bursts of laughter among everyone surrounding her.

She tried; she tried to do the things her friend did; she tried, because she wanted to be like her.

But no one laughed at her jokes. No one looked her in the eye when she talked to them. No one even bothered to pay attention to her words, even when she was screaming them.

she felt trapped. Ignored. Unregarded. Invisible. She understood the pain, the bitterness of being left out; no longer was she the confident girl she had been. Her confidence had been eaten away from her, like leaves in the wind. She wanted to cry.

Tears burning in her eyes, she ran, ran to hide the tears, to water them in a fruitless bowl.

She tripped. no one cared.

She got up, trudged forward, and struggled to go up the steps.

"Hey, are you okay?" A voice. Someone had finally noticed her. It seemed concerned, and sweet. It was then, when she turned, looked at him, and fell in love.

Love? She wasn't aware what it meant at that time. She thought it meant a series of feelings to another, of the opposite gender; a series that included: hearts beating fast, a reddening of cheeks, and the desire to see, again and again, his face.

*