A Small World

The Start p.2

An hour passes since I gave those guys my number. It's less hot then before, but it's still really hot. I've written three songs and even shot some lay-ups. I made 15 out of 20. I'm now writing another song. It's called Road to Invisibility.

"I hide away, just until the spaces shrink. I don't wanna be trapped. I wanna be free in my own mind, something that'll wear off over time."

"Hey!" An arm wraps around my shoulder causing my notebook and pen to go flying again. I hate sudden presence. I let out a little sigh as I crawl over to my notebook and get it. I turn around and see Nathan, a guy that I practice with.

I play basketball in what you can say, a ghetto neighborhood. Other then me, there's one more girl there and she's 17. I practice with 15-19 year old boys. It's very interesting and hard because I've only been going there for a month, two times a week. And the drills are sometimes hard. The guys are very supportive and stuff, but I'm very quiet. What is a 12 year old girl supposed to say to 18 year old boys? I don't think any of them know my name. And I'm okay with that. I know his name because I kind of like him. He's the nicest to me too. After I accomplish a drill, he always gives me a high five and a 'good job'.

"Hi," I smile a little. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"I didn't have work so I came over here to hang out with a friend. We decided to come play basketball here."

"Where is he?"

"He's still walking. I ran here. That's why I'm sweating," he lifts his shirt up to wipe some sweat off his forehead, exposing his incoming 6 pack. Dang, he's cute. But whatever, he's 15 and doesn't even know me.

"Oh."

"Hey I've never gotten your name. Nor have the other guys."

"It's Acedemicia, but people call me Ace."

"That's pretty," he smiles. His light brown hair and Hazel eyes glow in the sun.

"Thanks," I smile a bit. I just realized that he has my pen in his hand.

"You know that the guys at practice are fascinated with you?

"Why?" I'm scared. Did I do something?

"Well we're always so loud and obnoxious all the time, but through all of it, you're so quiet and calm and never phased by it. And plus you're always wearing shirts with strange stuff on it. Like now. What's Pierce the Veil?"

"It's a band. I always wear band tees."

"Oh okay."

"And I'm quiet because I'm not really good with socializing. I have social anxiety. And what's a 12 year old girl supposed to say to a bunch of teen boys."

"You're 12?"

"Yeah, I'll be 13 in September."

"We've always though you were 14 or 15."

"What, how?"

"We're not being creeps or anything. Okay maybe a little, but you're body is well developed so we thought you were older." I look down at myself and shrug.

"I guess so."

"But it doesn't matter. You still seem very cool."

"Thanks, you too. But can I have my pen back?" He looks down at it and then taps his chin like he's thinking.

"Nope," he smirks.

"Please," my voice gets softer.

"Come and get it." He stands up and sticks his hand with the pen in it, up in the air.

"How am I supposed to get it? You're 6 feet tall," I stand up.

"6'2 actually."

"That doesn't make it better," I say in almost a whisper. I have a hard time looking people in the face. My head lowers to the point that I can see my shoes.

"I'm just playing with you Ace," he lifts my face up with his index finger, making me look at him. My eyes wonder everywhere except his eyes. "Why won't you look at me?"

"I uh," I stop talking before I say something stupid. He sneaks his free arm around my waist and pulls me into him.

"Okay, how about this. I'll give you your pen back if you give me your number," he smirks.

"Why do you want my number?"

"Because you need a friend at practice and I'm willing to be it."

"O-okay." I grab my journal and rip out some paper like I did for the guys earlier. He hands me my pen and I write down my number. I give it to him and he smiles.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," I mumble. His grip on my waist tightens.

"I'm not letting you go until you look me in the eyes. You don't need to be shy around me. I won't hurt you." Why's he doing this? I lift my head up and look in his eyes for a few seconds, but it's the best seconds of my life. His eyes are so kind and beautiful. "See that wasn't hard was it?"

"Yeah it was."

"There's my friend," he points to a guy behind me. I turn around and see a blonde guy walking over. "Took you long enough dude."

"Shut up. Who's this?" He points to me.

"She's Ace, a girl I practice with." I lower my head to the sight of my shoes as I stand next to Nathan.

"Hey Ace, I'm Ryan."

"Hi," I say softly. I wave a little, but I don't lift my head up.

"Why so shy?" He asks in a soft voice.

"Social anxiety," I mumble.

"Soil Laboratory?"

"She said social anxiety dude."

"Oh I'm sorry," I look up at him slightly and he smiles this very goofy smile that makes me smile a bit. "You have a nice smile."

"Thanks. I should uh probably head home." I walk over to my bag and pack my notebook and pen and basketball.

"Hey it's sort of late. We should probably walk you home," Ryan says.

"It's okay. I live across from that alley."

"Yeah, but we don't want you walking alone."

"Okay," my voice grows softly. I've never had this much attention from any guys before. Unless they were teasing me. They both walk on each side of me as we start out our small journey to my house. It only takes 5 minutes to get to my house from here.

"So Ace, what are you into?" Nathan speaks up.

"Uh music, writing, reading, and singing. That's it really. I'm pretty boring."

"No, that sounds fun. You can sing?"

"Yeah I guess so. According to my choir teacher and parents."

"Sing something for us."

"I uh don't think-"

"You dumbass, she doesn't wanna sing for you," Ryan punches Nathan in the arm.

"I'm trying to be nice." He punches Ryan back.

"Hey Nathan, I'll sing for you at practice tomorrow," I say, stopping the fight before it gets serious.

"Great." We reach my house shortly after.

"Thanks for walking me home," they both give me a hug.

"No problem. I'll text you later."

"Okay." I turn around and enter my house.

"So how was the park," dad asks.

"I think I made a few friends."

"And all you needed to do was get out of the house."