Love Means Never Having To Say You're Sorry

I first met Mel in the one lesson that I have with her. Chemistry. She was my partner for all the practicals we had. I thought it was a really good lesson. None of my mates were in this class so they weren't wrecking what we had. Not only was she good at science but she was really funny. She was also really pretty. I had never understood that concept. I always thought that the weird drama people were ugly and had no life. That was proved wrong when I met Mel. Her bright green eyes stood out, and most days they were outlined in either dark green or blue eyeliner. If I told anyone about this weird friendship with her, they might disown me. That I didn't want happening. I was scared of what they would say. Scared of what they would think of me. But worse, scared of what my father would say. He had always told me that the way to go up in the world was to make yourself a living that is worth living. Not getting involved in girls or anything that would stand in the way of my career, as he would always say. I began to get sick of him.

I needed someone to confide in. Not my friends, they'd probably just take the mick out of me and my problems. My mother was always at work to give a damn about me. My father...well no because it was about him. Mel on the other hand. She'd always notice if someone was wrong and ask me about it. She would listen and tell me what she thought. On this particular subject she listened intentively as if she truely cared about it. I began to see a nice side to her. One that I really liked, and wanted to get to know more about.

I started thinking more about Mel than my sports. I'd lose concentration whilst playing basketball. She started to affect my grades as well. They went down because I was thinking of her all the time. I don't even know why I was thinking of her. I wasn't physically attracted to her, but I just couldn't stop thinking about her.

My father started to doubt the school that I went to, saying that my friends were the ones that distracted me. I didn't really care what he had to say. Why should I obey him now? I started to rebel. Stopped caring about him. Of course mother never noticed, she was always too busy.

I'd never thought I'd say this but, maybe this girl is trying to get to the real me. There was something about her, something about her presence that I could never quite manage to get. As soon as she walked into a room, it would seem more happier. What was she doing to me?