I didn't mean to trip her. It just happened. I was leaning up against the wall, and my foot slipped… and this girl roller skating by me, tripped and fell. I tried to help her up, but she, got up, slapped me and drew her fist back, but I caught it and she kicked me in the shin. I didn't want to hurt a girl, but I sorta had no choice. Before she could react, she was flat on her stomach with her hands behind her back. I had one foot holding her down and her hands back at the same time. "Let me up!" she yells.

My grungy black Converse hi –top digs harder into her back.

She tries to turn her head and look at me, but it's hard because of angle.

"I said, let me up!" she screams.

She tries to kick me, but can't reach that far. She struggles and tries to wriggle out from under my foot and she almost does. I put my hands on my knee and press harder on her back. Now what?

I couldn't figure out what to do. I had a girl pinned on the pavement, and she's screaming and cussing at me. What the – am I supposed to say? And the fact that she's cute isn't helping. She was wearing skinny jeans, a butterfly blouse, wrist guards, black roller blades with hot pink laces and wheels, and a black helmet. A turquoise and brown messenger bag is slung over her shoulder. Her hair was brown, wavy, and long. It hung loose down her back, and her eyes were huge and blue. Icy sapphire blue. She's pretty short, maybe just over five feet, and a whole heck of a lot lighter than me. She's really slender, and I'm afraid she'll break if I push on her too hard. As I look her over, I realize she's hurt. Her forearm has a huge scrape. It doesn't look that deep, but it's dirty, bleeding, and I'm standing on it. I shift my weight so she's still pinned but I'm not hurting her. Badly. I have to say something, sooner or later. But what? My eyes flick back to her arm.

"You're hurt." I say stupidly. I'm normally pretty good with girls. But then again, they're usually not pinned to the concrete.

"Duh. Guess who did that? Now let me up!"

I take my foot off her back, because it looks like she can barely breathe. Man, she's tiny. She starts to get up, but I can't let her go yet. I grab her wrist and pull her to her feet. I shift my grip and turn her arm around to look at her cut. She tries to pull away, but I don't let go. She sways slightly on her skates.

"You have to do something about your arm, it looks-"

"I would, if you'd let go!" she shouts.

I have to think quickly. Mom and Dad are at Dad's work "party" until nine, and Greg's spending the night at Rowley's. So I'll be home alone, and she can come to my house.

"My place is just down the street. You can clean it up there. "

She tries to pull away again, but I don't want to let go.

"You're just going to fall again. Come on." I pull her and she starts rolling on her skates. Easier than I thought. So I just start walking to my house.

As we walk I ask, "What's your name, anyways? I'm Rodrick Heffley."

She responds, "Jennie. Jennie Dyre."

We get to my house and I take her inside.

I pull her to the kitchen and let go of her arm. I run upstairs and come back with some peroxide and a box of band aids. She rinses off her arm, splashes some peroxide on it, and slaps on a band aid. "There. Can I go now?" she asks.

I have to think fast. She's still mad at me, so I have to do something. I can't think straight. What do I do? Well… chicks dig the demanding bad boy thing, don't they?

So I lean against the kitchen doorway and say, "I can't let a hot girl like you just leave, right?"

She slaps me hard across the face. Obviously she's not liking it. Now what?

I push her back and she falls into the stove. She shoves me back and I push her. She knees me in the stomach and I knock her down. We keep messing around like this before I start running for my room. I try to shut the door, but she's too quick. Jennie tackles me from behind but I spin and pick her up. I run with her and dump her on my bed, and we're both laughing by the time she lands. She stands and gives me a half hearted shove. I shove her back but I forget she's wearing roller skates still. She lands against the wall and I come over and see if she's okay and I trip over a shoe and somehow my lips land on hers.

She pushes me away.

She pushes me away. Without a word she stomps upstairs and out the door, slamming it shut.

I ask around with my friends for her number. My neighbor Gwen has it. I text her saying, "Sorry. I didn't mean to. Don't be mad."

She doesn't respond.

She doesn't speak to me until Thursday. And the day she stomped out was Monday, by the way.

I text her for the fourteenth time saying sorry, and she finally texts back.

"How stupid do you think I am? I'm not the "Oh- you're –hot- let's- make- out" type of girl. Do me a favor and get out of my life!"

I respond by texting, "It was an accident! I'm sorry! Truce?" and she doesn't respond.

A couple days later my parents leave with Manny for a water park. Greg and I have to stay home alone for the weekend.

The second they leave the house I sent a text to everyone from school.

"Party at my place at nine. Be there. Rodrick."

I lock Greg in the basement (which was easy) and get everything ready for the party.

To my surprise, Jennie comes.