Forgotten Faces

I stood there quietly, looking for a team. I spotted a group of friendly-looking girls, and they seemed to be missing one more person.

I jumped at the chance, not wanting to be placed into a group by a teacher. It always seemed so forced when the group agreed to have someone else join like that.

I walked up to them, and I smiled softly, trying to look as happy as possible.

"Can I join you guys?" I asked. They all shrugged. Not very inviting, was it?

A little brunette grabbed my arm, and she hugged it tightly.

"You can be on my team," she said happily. I smiled down at her. She was nice, sort of.

We all divided up, and my team was winning surprisingly. I managed to fall only once, and I didn't hit anyone with the basket ball either.

Everything was going smoothly for me. Well, until I saw him again.

He had his arms folded across his chest, as he was looking at me. Well, I think he was looking at me. For some odd reason, he had a smirk on his lips.

Was he entertained?

Why would he look at me? I was nothing special. I had black hair that went down to my shoulder blades, and I had surprisingly dull blue eyes.

All of a sudden, I felt a sharp pain on my right cheek. I was even flung to the ground.

It took me a while to register what had happened to me.

Turns out, the basket ball had smacked me across the right side of my face. So sports were going to haunt me even throughout this year as well.

"I'm so sorry."

I couldn't really see straight, but I could tell it was the small brunette, who was on my team. I let my vision clear up a bit, before I responded back to her words.

"I'm fine," I said. "No, you should go get some ice for your face." She said. I frowned.

Was my face swelling up or something? Did it look terrible?

I quickly turned my head, looking for him.

Did he see me get smacked by the ball? Who was I kidding? Of course he saw me get hit! He was probably laughing about me right now too. He was probably with his friends, telling them all about me.

I sighed deeply, when I saw he was no longer there.

So did he see me get hit? Yes, I was sure he at least saw that. Did he laugh at me? Did he find it so amusing that he had to go catch his breath?

"Here, I'll take her to the nurse," a voice said.

The guy's voice wasn't familiar to me. It was rough and smooth and a little suave. It was obviously a man's voice, and it wasn't Coach Harris's voice. So who was he?

I gasped, when I saw him. It was him, the guy that keeps on staring at me. So why was he volunteering to take me to the nurse's office?

"Okay, you can take her, you look big. You should pick her up too," the brunette's voice said.

That certainly straightened my senses up a bit.

"No," I shouted.

The guy and the brunette was staring at me oddly. He was even looking at me.. a little sad? Who knows what kind of emotion that was. I was just frantic to not have him touch me.

He still managed to chuckle lightly.

"It looks like she can stand on her own, right?" He said. I nodded happily, and I tried my best to stand up on my own.

Unfortunately, I stumbled a bit, and I managed to trip over my own legs.

I felt big strong arms wrapped around my waist, and I felt my face flush. It was more out of nervousness than it was about embarrassment. I didn't even know this guy, and he had his arms wrapped around me. It was almost repulsing.

"Okay, maybe she can't stand," he said chuckling. I looked up at him. He had a wide grin on his face, while I was about to freak out.

Did he realize that his hands was on my waist? Why wasn't he freaking out?

"No, I can stand." I said. I could feel my legs shaking. The girl was just shaking her head. I slowly raised myself off of his body.

I could tell by their body postures that they were unsure of my stability. I was unsure as well. I didn't know why my legs were responding the way they were. It was my face that got hit.

"Just hold her," the girl said quickly.

He shrugged slightly, and he quickly grabbed me up. I nearly died from the shock. Worst of all, he was holding me bridal style. So his hands were at my thigh and waist.

I did not feel comfortable at all. I wanted to be let down. I wanted to limp the whole way to the nurse's office. I wanted to disappear.

"I don't need to be carried," I said softly. He just chuckled.

"I'm sure," he said. He was grinning again, and he had very noticeable dimples.

They weren't completely bad looking.