Something Like Fate (editing)

Chapter 8 - They Weren't Ross and Rachel Circa 1998

The days that followed the game were pure torture for me. It turns out my little goal had capitulated me into the limelight and everyone suddenly seemed fascinated by the girl who had undermined Drew's legendary football skills. Whenever I would walk around college I could hear people whispering or boring a hole into my back as I walked past. It got to the point where it took all that I had not to flip them off.

"It's not like I did anything amazing," I grumbled.

"Are you kidding me? You freaking scored against Drew! Word on the street is that either you've been pretending all this time to be talent-challenged or Mr Harries has turned into a softie," Lucy said as we headed towards the History department.

Her words had me halting to a stop as I looked at her with dismay. "People are not saying that, are they?"

"Well, it does look a bit suspicious. No offense but you're not exactly very good at anything that involves you to have basic coordination skills while Drew is meant to be this rising sports star," she said stepping closer to me to let people get by as we had stopped in the middle of the corridor. "And then some people are saying that they spotted you out on what looked like a date."

I laughed at the absurdity of it all. I couldn't believe people thought that something was going on between Drew and me. Heck, we were probably the least likely coupling that could happen at college. Just because I had helped him with his brother and he had somewhat damaged his reputation by letting me score didn't mean anything, right? He definitely wasn't my Mr Darcy.

We are told from a young age that when a boy is mean to you it means that he likes you but is too scared to show it and so tries to cover it up by being horrible. We take this with us into later life like when a boy calls you names your friends say 'Ooooh he likes you' or say when he calls you 'no-one important' then it must mean that he's hiding his true feelings. Has anyone ever stopped to think that just MAYBE these guys are pricks who don't have a romantic interest in the girl? I have many occasions where guys have been less than nice to me – cheating on me, pushing me over during a football match, teasing me to no end -  and I can safely say that none of these guys liked me like that. And if they did, which is about likely as Amanda Bynes saying something that actually makes sense for once, then it certainly did them no favours in my book. We are constantly making excuses for the behaviour of boys from a young age. I mean if I like someone I don't insult them or give them the death stare. I may act a little, ok, a lot awkward but hell, even I know that insulting him isn't the way to go.

I was about to tell Lucy that pigs had more chance of flying than Drew and I getting together when I saw Harry. He was leaving one of the History classrooms, while talking to Ryan. I had seen him from a distance a few times since the break-up, or should I say the revelation of his true idiocy, but hadn't actually spoke to him. A feeling of dread washed over me as he spotted me and a smile broke on his pretty face.

"Hey Sophia," he said as he came to a stop by us, letting Ryan walk ahead.

Normally I would have run in the other direction but this time I didn't. We needed to have this conversation. I needed to have this conversation.

"Luce, can you give me a sec?" I asked while my best friend simply nodded and went to stand on the other side of the corridor.

Lucy bumped Harry's shoulder as she brushed past. "If you hurt her again, so help me God, I will show you the true meaning of pain," she hissed as Harry looked stricken.

I turned my gaze to Harry and I could feel myself drowning in his deep, Caribbean blue eyes as they looked at me sheepishly. It was always his eyes that made me catch my breath because they were so beautiful and his blonde hair looked so soft and rich that I couldn't help but remember the times I ran my hands through it. I sighed in frustration at how good looking he was and how I couldn't seem to kill the last of the butterflies in my stomach. Being hot and a prick - it's sad how often those two traits coincide in guys these days. Oh how I wish I was born in the era of Clark Gable or even Gregory Peck...