It's a warm June day outside, and the heat feels unbearable. I hated gym class already, but now, it was a nightmare, especially since I have it during the hottest time of the day. Our teachers thought it would be a fun idea to go outside and play kickball out there. They pick two students to be team leaders. Max Clarence, leader of the basketball team and a giant twat. The other is Ben Morgan, probably our school's best football player, someone I may have a crush on, and someone who hasn't called me a slur, which is a surprise. Those two are also close friends, so it's a good thing the teachers kept them separated for this.
There's a coinflip to see who picks first, and Ben wins. I sit down, fully knowing that I'll be picked very near last. Ben steps forward and looks up and down the players. I know he's going to go for the athletes who seem very eager to play, and I end up getting distracted by the grass. I watch as each blade sways gently in the breeze so minimal that even a small animal could not feel. I grab a piece between my fingers, and I slowly rip it off its chlorophyll pedistal.
"Sammy," Ben calls, and I'm suddenly brought back to reality. Me? First pick? I'm only ever first pick for who the jocks want to make fun of. Is he crazy?
I get up and walk towards him, and I can see everyone else is thinking the same thing as me. What is going through this boy's head?
The rest of the teams are called and we're up to "bat" first. I have never been athletic, and I never plan on being. Knowing this, I still give everything my all, and this isn't any sort of exception. If anything, I'm going to try harder because I don't want to let Ben down. So I can prove that I'm not useless to all the sports people. Yeah, that's it.
Eventually, it's my turn to kick, and we already have two outs, but our bases are loaded. This is going to go so well. The ball is rolled towards me, and I run towards it and kick with all my might. I watch it fly through the air, and I get so excited because I really think I've done good. I continue to watch as the ball falls straight into the hands of one of the outfielders, and I feel absolutely crushed. Not only did I get out, I ruin it for my whole team too.
We swap positions, and I drag my feet to go in the field. I've already messed up enough, and I know this isn't going to go well. I'm looking at my feet when I feel a hand touch my back, and I nearly jump out of my own skin.
"Don't feel bad, that was an amazing kick; it just got caught," the familiar voice of Ben whispers to me before walking away. He... he isn't mad at me? He isn't mad at me! I can't believe this. I feel ecstatic and ready to take on this team.
The game continues, and the team is in the same positions mine was when I got out. The person kicks the ball, and I sprint to try and catch it. I have never run so fast in my life, and the ball is just in my grasp. My arms are outstretched just as someone else catches it right in front of me. My heart sinks, and I feel ridiculous for a second time now.
The game continues, and I don't really add much to the game outside of my first two shinging moments at the start. We start funneling inside when Ben starts walking towards me. I expect nothing of it as he probably is just trying to catch up to his friend.
That is until he touches my back for the second time and says, "you did great out there; you're really passionate, and I'm glad I picked you."
He then quickens his pace and walks away, and I'm still standing there thinking. He's happy he picked me, why? I begin to jog towards him, but I see him talk with Max, so I just lag behind again. He makes me feel so good, but then it's gone.
We go back inside, and we file into our respective locker rooms. I change as fast as I can in a stall, and I leave just as quickly. I sit at the doorway waiting for the bell to ring, but I can't help but think about Ben. This person has never shown me any malice, which is different than a lot of his friends, but he's never exactly been close to me. So, why would he pick me first? Why would he encourage me so much, even after the game was over?
My thoughts are cut off by the bell ringing, which is my cue to rush out of there. Luckily, I walk fast, so I'm at my next class in no time. I sit at my desk, and I watch as everyone files in. The teacher then walks in and explains that we have nothing planned. Big surprise.
I, like many others, pull out my phone. I go onto Instagram and look at Ben's profile. It's a private account, so all I can see is his profile picture, a photo of him from one of the football games, and his bio, which holds nothing. My thumb hovers over sending him a follow request. I debate whether or not I should send it. What do I say? What if he asks questions? What if he rejects it? I can just ask why he picked me. I can answer the questions. I can still send the message.
I make up my mind and type out a message.
Hey, it's me, Sammy, I just wanted to ask why you picked me first?
I sit, waiting for a response. It doesn't take long. Within the minute, he's typing a reponse.
You sit alone a lot, and I wanted to be nice and call you first, make you feel included and all that.
He quickly types another message.
Sorry if you didn't like it, I just always notice you seem to give every game your best shot.
My heart skips a beat before racing. He notices me. He thinks of me. How do I respond to this? Eventually, I write another message.
No, you're good, I just was wondering why me since you have a lot of friends in that class.
He quickly types back a question.
Are we not friends?
This takes me back a bit. Why would he think that we were? I can't say that though; that would be rude.
Well, we've never hung out before.
He sees the message and seems to think for a second before texting back.
Okay, does tomorrow work?
He's stunned me again. Is he asking me to hang out with him?
What?
He quickly types back.
Can you hang out tomorrow?
It takes all my willpower to not scream yes outloud and through text. I quickly type back.
Um, yeah, absolutely.
His fingers must be flyng across his keyboard to type this quickly.
Perfect, can you meet me at the park around 1?
The park isn't a far walk from my house, so I could easily meet him.
100%
He texts me one final time for now.
Awesome. Now, I gtg, I'll see you tomorrow.
My heart races as I type a goodbye.
See you.
I'm so excited. I can't believe that I, the kid who has been made fun of for years by being called gay, am going to be hanging out with a jock. On top of that, he was the one who asked me. I can't wait.
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