First things first, my lovely, supportive readers!

James would like to thank Arianna for bestowing the 'Greatest Husband in the World' award to him!

He's been looking forward to getting it as much as you have wanted to give it, and he promises to continue earning it every chapter ^^

I'm glad you all liked the wedding chapter; it was a lot of fun to write!

Now, I would like to thank the guest reader that commented last night for your kind words.

Yes, everything that happened to Sofia happened to me; there were just more people involved, and I twisted some of the facts.

Miranda is a mix of my female biological parent and the woman who used to babysit me. They both turned their backs while they knew bad things were happening to me, and they both added to it by beating me, burning me, shoving me in closets, and sticking me outside during storms. (All of that shit is true.)

Patrick is based on my male biological parent (All of that shit is true). The only thing about him I changed was how he died. He actually hooked a hose to his tailpipe.

Seth is based on my brother, who is very much alive, but we weren't raised together.

My sexist grandparents raised him, and he still blames me for our dad's suicide. So, we're dead to each other.

Sam is based on my biological's live in, meth-making, serial killer, son of a bitch of a boyfriend (All of that shit is true).

Roland is based on my adoptive dad, whom I sadly lost a few months ago to a fatal fall in his basement.

The abandonment that Sofia suffered was how I felt when my Roland would leave for work.

He was a truck driver, and the babysitter that abused me was his wife.

My Roland would be gone for months at a time, and she wouldn't take care of me. Her medications got all screwed up, and she would forget who I was. There were days she would hit me and chase me out of the house, and I would have to sneak back in the basement after she fell asleep.

The part where Sofia's uncle showed up actually happened too, but it was my grandpa, and he fought my Roland in our front yard because my Miranda told him that he stole her money (My check). It was so stupid.

Anne is based on my nanny, who came into my life when I was 15, and I still consider her my mother.

She was the one who talked me into writing these memoirs, but I wanted to change some of the facts because writing the 100% truth wouldn't have been as sweet as Sofia having James to save her all the time.

It would have been a story about a super lonely girl with severe PTSD who was only cared about by an old man who liked to argue a lot and a really sweet woman who the lonely, evil girl tried to push away all the time because she wasn't used to being loved (which I incorporated into the James fights.)

James is based on my husband; he's understanding, thoughtful, wants me to be happy and healthy, and, back before I had my anxiety in check, would always know how to calm me down.

I'm 30, and it's been a rough 15 years, but I'm not writing this for pity.

I'm writing this so that anyone going through something similar to my situation knows that there are good people out there.

Don't give up on life because of the shit ones.

I have a great life now; my husband and I have been married for 11 years, I was a teacher before COVID hit, but I get to be a stay-at-home mom now and homeschool my three kids, I have amazing friends, I don't speak to my biological family any more than I have to, and I get to entertain you guys with my writing.

This story will have a happy ending, but not without a bunch of sad, annoying middle.

I have a deep connection to this story, and it isn't always easy to write, but as a thank you for all of your support and since we broke 500 comments, here is the James intro ^^

Chapter 37 will be out tomorrow :)

I love you guys!

XOXOXOXOXOXO

James intro

"Welcome to Fair Grove, Mr. Talbert; my name is Lisa Gillian," the overly perky principal shook my hand as my parents, and I took our seats in her office.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," I nodded, sitting down.

"We are all thrilled to have you here, especially coach Fredrickson. We're looking forward to finally having a winning season," she continued, grinning widely.

"As long as you keep the other players in check, there's no doubt my boy will be an asset to the team," dad stated gruffly, "I don't want a repeat of Dallas,"

Thanks, dad.

I know he means well, but I'm going to end up labeled as a fighter.

I don't want any more trouble.

"Yes, sir," principal Gillian nodded, "Coach Fredrickson has been made aware of the reason you're here, and we will do everything we can to keep the peace. James here is our new star player,"

I crossed my arms and smirked.

Fuck yeah, I am.

This school is so small, and the other player's stats are hilarious.

I'll get picked up in no time.

All I've ever wanted is to play Football.

I've trained every morning since I was eleven.

I've gone to football camp every summer.

It's what I'm meant to do, and I'm damn good at it.

"I've personally set up James's class schedule; practices are every Tuesday and Thursday at six am, so I've made sure he won't have homework on Monday or Wednesday," principal Gillian continued, handing me my schedule, "Our season starts in three weeks, but practice starts today,"

Starting a new school my senior year fucking sucks, but it beats the hell out of the alternative.

I'm sick of letting people beat the shit out of me.

I nodded and shoved the schedule in my shorts pocket.

"Go meet the team, James. Dad and I will fill out the paperwork," mom smiled, patting my arm.

"Good luck!" principal Gillian called, and I subtly sighed.

I know you're being nice to me because you have to, but calm the fuck down desperate lady.

"Thanks, Mrs. Gillian," I chuckled, "Bye, guys,"

I ran to the field and found the team in the middle of drills.

I guess you could call them that.

Those guys look so stupid.

"Mr. Talbert!" Coach Fredrickson greeted me warmly, "I was hoping you would come by today,"

He ran up to me and shook my hand vigorously.

Yeah.

You're desperate too.

Whatever.

Train your players harder, coach.

Be nice, James.

"Nice to meet you, coach," I smiled, "Is my uniform ready?"

"Yeah, it's in the locker room," he looked across the field, "THOMPSON!" he shouted, waving over one of the players.

"Yeah, coach?" the dark-haired boy asked, trying to catch his breath from the run over.

Yeah.

Okay.

"This is James Talbert, our new cornerback," Coach introduced me, "Talbert, this Hugo Thompson, our Quarterback,"

"Nice to meet you, dude," Hugo smiled, shaking my hand, "I heard we were getting some talent this year. These guys suck,"

And you...?

Think you're better than them, huffy puff?

God, I hate false egos.

At least mine is validated by my stats.

"Thompson," Coach warned, "Show Talbert where the locker room is,"

"Sure thing, coach," Hugo laughed, shaking his head, "He's just in denial; I'm the only good player on the team. My brother Axel is getting there, but he's no me,"

I'm sure there aren't any yous in the NFL either.

"Is that right?" I asked in feigned shock, rolling my eyes behind his back as we descended the stairs to the locker room.

"Hell yeah, I'm just glad to have someone else on my level," Hugo responded in complete seriousness, and I had the sudden urge to knock his head into the lockers, "I heard you got into some pretty gnarly fights at your old school,"

Fuck.

I really wish dad hadn't told the coach about my fighting.

It's not like the fights were my fault.

I just defended myself.

"Yeah. I did," I grimaced.

"That's awesome. Did you really put that kid in a coma?" he chuckled, tossing me my uniform.

A coma?

That's the story everyone's passing around?

"No. I broke his nose and jaw, and I ended up in anger management for six months," I explained, pulling my shirt off.

I just wanted him to stop talking.

And I made him.

"The coma story is cooler," he shrugged, "But dude, you are ripped!"

"Six years of non-stop training and the coma story isn't 'cooler,' don't spread that shit," I growled, changing into my uniform.

"Sure, dude, whatevs. Come on, you need to meet the rest of the guys," Hugo pushed me toward the door.

This guy fucking pisses me off.

He's going to be the reason I have to transfer agian.

"Don't forget to say hi to the cheerleaders too," Hugo chuckled as we entered the field, "The girls are going to be all over you, and we'll share,"

Well, now I know why you're on the team.

You'll share?

I felt my knuckles tingle, but I took a deep breath, tried not to gag, and ran ahead of him.

At least I can fucking outrun him.

I exchanged pleasantries with the other team members but did my best to avoid conversation.

I'm not here to make friends.

Especially if they're anything like Hugo Thompson.

No fucking thank you.

It's not like I'm was stuck-up or anything; I just don't share interests with many other people.

Plus, my therapist in anger management told me to avoid conflict as much as I could.

So I try to avoid people and focus on Football.

I've had anger problems since I was little, and Football has helped release my aggression.

Not always, unfortunately, but for the most part.

I spent most of the practice ignoring the cheerleaders' giggles and points, explaining plays, and instructing the other players; I felt more like a coach than a player, and I sighed happily when the coach announced we could go home.

Thank God.

I took a quick shower, ignored my teammates' mindless babbling, and ran to my truck.

"Hopefully, something good will come from me moving here," I grumbled, putting my key in the ignition and blasting my music as I drove home.

I hit STOP on my alarm as it went off; I had been awake for an hour staring at the ceiling.

"James," dad called, knocking on my bedroom door, "You awake?"

"Yeah, I'm up," I groaned, pulling myself out of bed.

One year.

You're putting up with this for your career.

It will all pay off in the end.

Suck it up, Talbert.

I pulled on a pair of shorts and joined my parents in the kitchen.

"Here's your lunch," mom put her coffee mug down and handed me my lunchbox, "Dad and I will be home by four-thirty, and I'll grab a pizza on the way," she explained, grabbing her keys.

"Try to have a good day, James. I know transitioning is going to be hard, but we've been here for a week, and you haven't left the house at all," dad frowned, looking up from his phone at the table.

Where the hell do you expect me to go?

This town is in the middle of nowhere.

I miss the city.

"I'll try to make friends," I nodded, "But if yesterday was any kind of sign, these are not my kind of people,"

"Someone might surprise you," mom shrugged, ushering dad out the door, "We love you, James,"

"I love you too," I sighed, folding my hands over my head.

I know they're worried about me, and I appreciate them, but I am not holding my breath.

I finished my run and took a shower before getting ready for school.

It was seven twenty, but I wanted to get to school early to find my classes, so I threw my bag in the bed of the truck and headed to school.

I cranked up the A/C, wishing it wasn't so damn hot.

I'm used to dry heat, but this feels like someone's slapping me with a hot rag.

It's disgusting.

I grabbed the handkerchief dad gave me from my glovebox and wiped my sweaty head before shoving it in my pocket, and pulled onto the street to the school where a girl in a brown hoodie with long red hair drew my attention.

I slowly crept past, watching her in my rearview mirror.

The sunlight reflected off her hair like fire, and her eyes were the deepest blue I had ever seen.

Wow.

Who is that?

I don't think I've ever been able to use the word stunning before, but she is.

She's stunningly beautiful.

I felt a pounding in my chest as I pulled into my spot in the parking lot before jumping out and watched her make her way to the school.

She waited at the stop sign, crossed her arms, and watched the cars pass by with a look I could only describe as disdain.

She looks so angry and sad.

It was as though time came to a halt as I stood there staring at her.

I couldn't see anything but the gorgeous, ethereal creature at the stop sign, and I knew I needed to get to know her.

Maybe I should say hi.

I could cheer her up.

She began walking toward me, and I panicked.

Oh, shit, she's coming.

I'm sure me jumping her in the parking lot wouldn't leave a very good first impression.

I'll find her later.

I grabbed my bag and ran inside.

I found my locker and slammed my fist against it.

Why am I hiding?

Just go introduce yourself.

You're a person, she's a...fire-haired goddess...

Just go!

I turned back around and ran through the hall, keeping my head down.

I need to focus.

Don't lose your nerve.

She's probably still right outside.

I got close to the door and felt someone smack their head on mine.

I stood up, and to my horror, I immediately realized it was her.

Oh, no!

WHY?!

"Sorry!" I exclaimed, grabbing the girl's arm to help her up, but she retracted it.

Her eyes are even more mesmerizing up close.

Wow, she's insanely gorgeous.

"Don't worry about it. I don't need my brain. It's just high school," she grumbled, pressing her back against the wall and sliding up.

She had the most adorable, slightly southern accent, and the fact she refused my help made her even more intriguing.

She's funny too.

Say something funny back!

"It was nice bumping into you," I joked, nervously rubbing my hand along my neck, earning a slight glare from her.

Well, at least I have her attention now.

"Sure. I'll wear a helmet tomorrow," she rolled her eyes dramatically and began to walk away.

Don't let her leave yet!

"Hey, wait! What's your name?" I asked, swinging around to block her.

"Sofia. Can I go now?" she sighed, obviously not wanting to continue talking to me.

Sofia.

She even has a pretty name.

"Sofia," I breathed, "I'm James,"

"That's nice. Bye," Sofia scoffed, pushing her way around me.

"Can I walk you to class?" I asked hopefully.

Cool it, James.

She's going to think you're a stalker.

I need to get to know her.

It's fine.

She took a deep breath and turned around.

Her big, deep blue eyes sized me up and landed on mine, sending a comfortable shiver up my spine.

"I'm sure you can find better things to do with your time. I have to go find my locker," Sofia frowned, vanishing in the waves of other students.

I smiled and returned to my locker.

Sofia is beautiful, and she treats me like a person instead of a football star like everyone else has.

She's perfect.

I found my homeroom class and took a seat next to the window.

I wish Sofia was in this class.

I wonder what grade she's in?

Is she a Senior?

She looked more like a sophomore.

I can dream though.

I looked up from my notebook, and my heart skipped a beat as I watched her walk in.

Holy shit.

Okay, okay, I wish for Sofia to be single.

Might as well ride this wish train as long as I can.

So, she's a Senior too.

Sofia had pulled her hood over her head, and she kept her eyes to the floor as she passed me by.

Look at me?

Please?

I grabbed her hand and put her in the seat next to mine.

She's going to think you're a creep.

Stop being so impulsive!

"Sit with me," I smiled, hoping she wouldn't run away again.

She groaned and hid in her hoodie like a turtle.

How can she wear that hoodie?

It's so damn hot.

She's hot.

Say something, don't just stare at her.

"What other classes do you have this year?" I asked, making small talk.

She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to me without looking up.

She is the most interesting girl I've ever met.

"Hey! We have a few other classes together!" I exclaimed louder than I had intended, and she glared icily at me.

"And why is that so exciting? Are you new or something? I'm not the welcoming committee, you know," she huffed, grabbing the schedule back from me and shoving it back in her pocket.

Don't be mad...

I just want to see you.

Why am I being so pushy?

Didn't I say I wasn't here to make friends?

So much for that.

"Yeah, actually, I am. I just transferred here because the football team is better than my old schools," I lied, not knowing if Sofia was a fan of the team or not.

Better not make her any more upset.

"Is this some initiation dare?" Sofia snapped, "It's not funny,"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, confused.

Why would anyone choose this goddess as the target of an initiation dare?

"Look, Football, I don't know what your game is, but I'm not amused," she barked, narrowing her eyes straight into mine.

She doesn't like football players...

That's understandable, but I want a chance to let her know I'm not like Hugo.

"I'm talking to you because I want to. There's no game," I smiled, trying to break the tension, "You seem cool; I want to get to know you better,"

"There's nothing to know. You're wasting your time," Sofia scowled, jumping out of her seat and running out of the room.

"Hey! Wait!" I called, running after her, but she beat me to the bathroom.

I leaned up against the lockers, kicking the back of my foot against them.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

She's been in there a while.

Should I get someone to check on her?

The door finally opened, and she gasped when she saw me.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, taking a step toward her.

"Yeah, I'm good, Football," Sofia replied, brushing me off with that nickname, "Why are you here?"

Does she call all the players football, or am I special?

"I was worried about you; I wanted to make sure I didn't upset you," I explained, wishing I could start this whole day over.

I should have walked up to Sofia in the parking lot and offered to let her sit in my truck until class.

She probably wouldn't have said yes, but it's a much better plan than pile drive her to the floor and stalk her around the halls.

"Nah, you're good," she patted me on the shoulder and winced.

Is she hurt?

"What's wrong?" I asked, grabbing her hand.

She tried to pull away, but I saw red on her palm and pulled her sleeve up.

I felt the life drain from my face as I looked at the long, purple scars and freshly made cuts along her forearm.

Does she cut herself?

Why?

"Please let me go," she pleaded, looking around the hall frantically.

"You did this?" I whispered, pulling the handkerchief from my pocket and wrapped it around her elbow as a tourniquet.

I'm glad mom is a nurse and taught me some things.

"Who even carries handkerchiefs anymore?" she snorted.

You're not going to push me away with insults, Sofia.

Let me help you.

"You need to go to the nurse, fuck, you need to go to the hospital," I clenched my jaw and pushed her toward the door.

You at least need to go see mom.

I bet these cuts need stitches.

"No! You need to mind your own business. I'm fine," Sofia pushed my hand away and straightened her back intimidatingly.

I want your business to be my business.

I want to help you.

Why is she being so stubborn?

We stood staring at each other in the hallway, each of us waiting for the other to give in.

"Shouldn't you two be in class?" a teacher called.

"Yeah. We were going back, Mrs. Iris," Sofia called back, refusing to lose our staring contest.

I only want to help Sofia, but it's painstakingly obvious she doesn't want me to.

I'll keep an eye on her for the rest of the day.

Whether she likes it or not.

"I'm not going to let this go," I growled, leading her back to class and planting her back in the chair next to me.

She looked scared as she stared down at her desk, but I caught a glimmer of a smile across her lips.

I'm going to help her.

I can't help how drawn I am to this girl.

She's so...real...

I can already feel myself falling in love with her.

Class ended, and she shot out of the room to get away from me, I was sure.

We didn't have any other classes together today, stupid easy Monday.

I looked everywhere for her at lunch and finally spotted her reading a book at a picnic table.

I watched her fingers graze the page and suddenly wondered what they would feel like on my skin.

I shook the image from my head and walked over to her.

"There you are," I smiled, sitting across from her, but she didn't look up, "Sofia?" I asked, pulling out my lunchbox.

She looked up and sighed.

Well, I wasn't expecting her to be happy to see me.

"You again? Haven't you got a pep rally to go to or something, Football?" she frowned, looking down at her book again.

I'm not sure how I felt about being called Football, especially in a sarcastic manner, but I'm happy being called anything by Sofia.

At least she's talking to me.

"And leave you alone? Not a chance," I stated, biting into my apple.

"I'm not a charity case, and I don't need a babysitter. What I choose to do in my spare time is none of your business," she whispered, keeping her eyes on the book.

"Regardless, friends don't let friends self-harm," I smiled confidently.

"Since when are we friends?" she rolled her eyes.

"Since this morning. You ran into me, remember?"

"Almost knocking me unconscious does not automatically make us friends. You have an entire team of beefed-up friends. Not to mention the cheerleaders who are going to want to sleep with you," she mumbled the last part, and I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest.

Those guys are not my friends.

But do I hear jealousy in her voice?

I wouldn't touch those other girls.

Even if Hugo hadn't made that sharing comment.

Why would I want to when Sofia exists?

I've never felt this strongly about anyone in my life.

"Is someone jealous? Don't worry, Sofia; I'll be true to you," I purred, earning a smack in the head with the spine of her book.

"So we're dating now?" she huffed, and maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

Is she flirting with me?

Please be single.

"Are we? You said it, so it must be true," I rested my hand on hers, noting how soft her skin was, "I'd be happy if it were true,"

"You're weird; go away," she grumbled, pulling her hand under the table.

I understand why she's pushing me away so hard, but bantering with her is refreshing.

And the most fun I've had in a long time.

"Aren't you hungry?" I asked, looking around for her lunchbox.

"Nope. The food here sucks," she sighed.

I've never liked school lunches either.

"Here, I have enough to share," I offered, pushing my bag toward her.

She began to shake her head, but I heard her stomach growl, and she groaned in defeat.

"You sure you don't mind?" she asked, pulling out half of my sandwich and an orange.

I shook my head and gestured to the food.

What's mine is yours, Sofia.

Should I ask for her number?

"All I ask in return is that you give me your number," I smirked.

She hesitated but tossed her unlocked phone at me.

"Yeah, yeah, thank you," she rolled her eyes and bit into the sandwich.

"You're welcome, Sof," I smiled, putting her number in my phone and biting my apple.

I glanced up, unsure if she didn't catch the nickname or if she didn't care.

"James! You wanna go practice before lunch is over?" Hugo called, flipping a football in his hands.

Fuck that guy, but this is my chance to show off for Sofia.

"Only if my girlfriend wants to watch!" I called back, watching the blood rush to her face.

I made her blush.

Good.

I have a chance.

"No. I'm not your girlfriend, and I'm not interested in watching you toss an oblong ball back and forth," she rolled her eyes at me again.

I know it was meant passive-aggressively, but it's just amazing to watch with eyes like hers.

The sun sparkles off them every time, and they looked like constellations.

Cecilia and the Satellite popped into my head and I smiled.

Sofia and the satellite.

She's my sky.

"Oh, come on, please," I begged, lacing my hands together.

"Fine, maybe I can get some reading done if you're otherwise occupied," she sighed, finishing her sandwich.

Hurry, before she changes her mind!

"Hold up, Hugo!" I called, wrapping my arm around Sofia's waist.

"Hey, hands-off," she squirmed away, but I smirked and gently held her hand instead.

She's so warm.

It's like electricity running through my arm.

"Hey guys, do you know my girlfriend, Sofia?" I asked proudly, squeezing her small hand as we sat on the bleachers.

She didn't deny it this time!

"Sofreaka, yeah. We know her," they all laughed, and I saw Sofia pull her hood further over her face, "Nice joke, dude,"

Why the fuck are these guys such assholes?!

"Hey!" I barked, making them stop, "I'm serious. She's my girlfriend, and I'd appreciate it if you guys wouldn't make fun of her,"

What the fuck is going on?

Why is the most beautiful girl in the world a social outcast?

And why would she listen to them?

Sofia should be told how beautiful and exciting she is every day of her life, and I want to be the one to do it.

"Stop it, Football, it's not worth it," Sofia pulled her hand from mine, "And stop calling me your girlfriend,"

She bolted around the bleachers, and I cracked my knuckles.

SHIT!

"What the fuck is your problem?!" I yelled at the group of incompetent boys, balling my fists.

"It's for the best, dude. That girl's right; she's not worth it. She a fucking freak," one of the other guys shrugged.

"She's dangerous; you need to leave her alone," Hugo stated seriously, "I told you we'd let you have one of the cheerleaders,"

I DON'T WANT THE FUCKING CHEERLEADERS YOU FUCKING PRICK!

YOU NEED TO LEAVE SOFIA ALONE!

I finally got Sofia to agree to hang out with me, and these idiots scared her away!

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!

I glared at them all but knew I couldn't take them as a group, so I turned and ran to find Sofia.

I heard her scream and quickly analyzed the situation.

She's hurting herself again!

I followed the sound of her screams and found her on her knees, pressing on the cuts from this morning.

"Stop it!" I yelled, pinning her arm behind her back to stop her, "Stop hurting yourself!"

"Leave me alone!" she cried, trying to get away.

"No! You may not understand why I like you, but that doesn't change the fact that I do," I pulled her to my chest, "Those guys are idiots; I'll make sure they never talk to you or about you like that again,"

I'll fix whatever is happening.

This shit isn't right!

"It's fine. I don't need or want you to protect my honor," she mumbled into my shoulder.

"Why not?" I asked, looking for some sign that she was lying.

Please let me help you.

I can't stand the thought of coming to this school every day and not being able to talk to you.

I want to spend every minute I can with you.

I want you to fall in love with me.

"Because I want to leave after graduation. If I end up falling for you or even being your friend, you could make me want to stay," she whispered, staring at my chest.

Was that a confession?

I'll go with you after we graduate.

Anywhere.

"So, you don't want me around because you like me too much. Is that what I'm hearing?" I smirked.

"I think you've taken one too many hits to that pretty head of yours, Football," she sighed, shaking her head.

That was definitely a confession!

Can I really be so lucky to have Sofia as my first girlfriend?

And, perhaps, my last?

First things first, I can't let her hurt herself anymore.

I'll make her see how perfect she is.

"Now I'm pretty? You're so blunt, miss Sofia. Yes, I'll go out with you, geez," I laughed, running my hand over the back of my neck, "let me see your arm," I frowned, not wanting to get too caught up in the fact I had a girlfriend, "If you do this again I'm taking you to the hospital. Give me the blade," I held out my hand.

She roughly fished it out of her pocket, and I was worried she was going to cut herself again.

She pressed it into my palm, and I stashed it in my pocket before helping Sofia to her feet and keeping her hand in mine.

Her hand fits so perfectly in mine.

I love how her skin feels on mine.

"You're gonna get all the shit for dating Sofreaka, you know," she stated, using that name as though it was normal.

That's going to stop too.

Sofia isn't a freak.

She's obviously being bullied and she's sad.

"I can handle it. Or I can beat some asses. I'm good either way," I tried to get past it as she got her books out of her locker, "Meet me in the parking lot after school,"

"Okay," she nodded, and I pressed my lips to the back of her hand.

The skin contact sent sparks through me.

I wondered if she feels it too.

I wrapped the blade in a piece of paper when I got to my CIS class and threw it in the trash.

I will make sure she never cut herself again.

I will protect her from everyone, including herself.

I ran out to the parking lot after the last bell, wanting to hurry in case she decided to walk home instead, but I saw her leaned against the rail in front of the gym.

Her hood was down, and her curly red hair cascaded around her as the breeze blew through it.

I pulled out my phone and quickly snapped a picture of my girlfriend.

My girlfriend.

My incredibly beautiful girlfriend.

"Sofia!" I smiled, pulling her off the ground into my arms.

"Too much enthusiasm, Football. Drop it down four notches," she complained, and I put her back on her feet.

Why is she still calling me football?

God, I want to hear her say my name.

"Are you going to call me Football forever?" I laughed.

"Yep. That's your name now," she shrugged.

"Even when we're an old married couple? Am I Still going to be Football?" I pouted, poking her in the side.

"Don't threaten me like that," she huffed, taking a step away from me, but I picked her up, swung her legs over my arm, and jumped over the rail, "Put me down!"

She's so light.

I want to keep her in my arms forever.

I put her in the back of my truck and folded my arms across the side, looking her in the eye, "Can I give you a ride home?" I whispered, inching my face toward hers.

I want to kiss her so badly.

"No, I only live down the street. I walk," Sofia shook her head.

"Not anymore, come on, let me take you home," I poked her nose, and she gnashed her teeth at my finger, "Or at least let me take you on a drive; we can hang out,"

I'm not ready to say goodbye.

I don't think I ever will ever be.

"Fine. Let's go for a drive, but make it quick," Sofia agreed, jumping to the ground like a cat.

"You know the area better than I do; why don't you drive?" I offered, dangling the keys in front of her.

"You really should consider not trusting people so quickly, Football," she smirked, grabbing the keys and getting in the driver's seat.

I know I can trust her.

I'd trust her with my life.

I chuckled and got in the passenger seat, hooked up my phone, and stared at the girl I would spend the rest of my life with.