You're Mine, AJ

First loves are exciting, terrifying and ultimately painful. My first love was amazing. After my string of sexual adventures, some of which I will spare you the details of, I entered Junior year of high school ready to find myself a boyfriend who didn't kiss like a blow fish (Oh Jim...). It didn't take me long to figure out who was my next victim.

They say it only takes you four minutes to form an opinion of someone. It took me about four minutes to find him in the crowd of my sweaty, familiar peers. It only took me about four seconds to know I loved him. 

The day I met him was routine, much like all the other football games I had attended in my high school career. It was the last football game of the fall before school resumed and my girlfriends and I showed up in the most risque outfits we could leave home in without our mothers calling us whores (yes, my mother actually resorted to telling me I looked like a whore on occasion). We came armed in our signature Propel water bottles filled with cheap vodka. This day, I carried a Black Cherry Propel bottle that concealed the mixture of Everclear and Sprite. I wore jeans and a low cut tank top despite the cool autumn breeze which encroached upon the field as the sun rested beneath the horizon. 

We found a comfortable spot amongst the mass of teenagers, standing on the fiberglass bleachers. There was 5 of us. As we stood surrounded by the roar of drunken high schoolers, I glanced down the row at my best friends. All of them looked satisfied; in their element. They laughed and turned around to share something with the girls behind us. They leaned forwards, resting their hands on attractive boys shoulders, flashing their best innocent smiles and enticing them with their eyes. I had always felt uncomfortable and out of place. I didn't like crowds. I was shy and didn't have many friends outside of my group. I also hated football. I sighed and took a deep swig of my alcohol. My eyes scanned over the crowd, skipping over blonder than natural swimmers mop heads, hats hiding peoples faces and heads of hair meant to make a statement (but really just looking ridiculous). I stopped, focusing in on an unfamiliar face haphazardly placed amongst all the ones I knew. 

I grabbed Vicki's shoulder, jolting her out of her own little world where she was dancing seductively. 

"Vicki," I nudged her. "Who is that guy standing with your boyfriend?" Remember Vicki's boyfriend, the soccer player? The Orgy? Okay, good. 

"What?" she yelled back at me over a sudden increase in noise within the crowd. Maybe our team had scored, but this was unimportant because no one came to football games to actually watch. "Oh Him. That's AJ, he's on the soccer team. He moved him from like Poland or Germany or Mexico or something." She turned her attention back to one of our other friends. Hmm...a foreigner. Definitely hot. 

I stared at him, standing about 10 rows ahead of me. He was tall and lanky. His hair was short and gelled into a spiky pattern. Looking at him, I could see that he wasn't American. He was laughing as he spoke to Vicki's boyfriend, Rob. His smile made my stomach flutter like a thousand butterflies. I grabbed Vicki's shoulder. 

"Vicki!" I yelled, her big brown eyes, uncharacteristic with her light blond hair, flashed at me expectantly. "Get Rob to introduce me to him. I want him." I had never been confident or sure of anything when it came to relationships (only when stripping unsuspecting males). This felt new and strange, but it felt right. 

Vicki just smiled, grabbed my Propel bottle and chugged the rest of my vodka. And that is how AJ swiftly made his way into my life.