There are two types of people in high school: the ones that you can date and the ones you can't. Unfortunately for me, I'm the latter. Even though I'm around hot football players every afternoon, they are not allowed to date me. If they even come close to flirting, my dad, Coach "The Boss" Davis, makes them run laps around the field until they puke. What dad doesn't know is that I spend every last second of those two blissful hours of practice int he scorching California heat, staring at Tyson Blake. He is the epitome of perfection in a six-foot-two, incredibly toned, spells-good-even-when-he-sweats, senior body. And when he smiles, angels sing. Literally. And dad hates him. It feels a bit cliche to say I feel for the one guy that would send Dad's already high blood pressure over the top. But it's true. There's something about Tyson. Somethign he's trying to hide. But I can see through his cocky persona and I know there's something more.
adolescent
Anne-Marie Meyer
