Westley has always known Claire. She's always been a constant in his life, whether it be as his babysitter, his secret Santa, as his pretend-girlfriend, his confident, as the person he could always rely on.
But she's also always been the girl he lov...
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I'm sixteen years old and I'm five foot nine. I've had a growth spur during the summer. I actually grew five inches. My whole body feels weird.
I still think I'm not tall enough. I'm in the football team but I know I'll never amount to anything because I'm not tall enough or fast enough. It's the same thing for swimming. I'm actually good at swimming but I won't be in the Olympics any time soon.
But since puberty is finally starting to hit me, for some reason more people start trying to talk to me. Girls start talking with me. Now that they don't have to look down to be able to, I guess I'm more appealing.
It feels strange. I talk with the girls, but I always seem to be saying the wrong thing or at least I'm saying everything wrong.
I compare every conversation I have with conversations I had with Claire. Why has it always been effortless to talk with Claire while it's so difficult to talk with these other girls? Claire matters more than they do, yet I've never struggled to find my words with her.
I keep trying to talk with girls. Practice apparently makes perfect, so I keep practicing.
