The quarterback love magnet, that was his nickname in high school. He just snapped his fingers, and all the girls came running.
He didn’t know that I existed, until that night.
Well, not exactly that night. I got rid of my glasses, changed my hair, and crashed a party, to get close to him. He was my secret fantasy and as we played spin the bottle and I ended up alone with him, I was glad that I took the risk.
Until the cops showed up and everyone had to leave the party.
Later, opportunity knocked again, and I wasn’t going to let it pass.
I believed that romantic fairy tales was the only way to escape my reality. We were the modern version of the lady and the tramp; the problem was that I was no lady, and he certainly wasn’t a tramp.