Angol
I fell in love once.
We had known each other since we were in diapers. He was the well-heeled prep school darling, and I was the scholarship kid. He was the athlete, focused on sports and not much else, while I was the studious nerd, focused on getting grades good enough to secure a scholarship to a university.
While my foster mom cleaned his family's home, Jamison Parsons and I spent hours after school with our heads together at their dining room table while I tutored him. He had to keep his grades high enough to stay eligible to play sports because not much else mattered to him.
A friendship blossomed, and when we both got into the same university, we began spending more time together. When it was just us, he was charming and funny, but with everyone else, he was reserved and observant. In all those hours together, the quiet, shy boy won my heart. It was a fairy tale in the making; at least for me.
He had never dated anyone seriously. Neither had I. I blame that inexperience for the kiss I brushed across his lips on impulse.
The next day, he showed me just how much he did not share my feelings of affection. Spectacularly shattering my heart.
That was years ago, and although it took some doing, I had mended my heart and put him out of my mind. Then today, it all comes rushing back when he walks through the door of my club.
