A work of fiction, written February 2007.
I knew he’d be here. He always adored football. He’s with his friends now, practicing. And he’s just as handsome as when I saw him a few days ago. Or was it a few weeks? I forget. Time seems meaningless around him. Actually, everything seems meaningless around him, except for his arms around me. I love to watch him play. I believe I could stay here forever and just watch his body move. It’s hot today. Maybe he’ll peel off his shirt. He is so gorgeous. Brown hair. Beautiful brown eyes. Tall. Dark. Handsome. What more could anyone ask for? So strong, too, the way his muscles flex when he moves. And that tooth. Cutest thing in the world.
Millie had repeated Greg’s description in her mind a thousand times. Although her head was fuzzy, she knew she’d never forget his face or where to find him. As Millie would repeat the specifics of Greg’s face, she would always find something new about him that made her fall in love all over again. This time it was the trail of hair that bloomed on his bellybutton and snaked its way down his abdomen and into his underwear. Millie had caught a glimpse of it when Greg had jumped up and extended his arms to catch the ball, his shirt lifting up in the process. Millie had seen him shirtless before and always noticed the hair but something about this time made it particularly sexy. It was the teasing aspect that turned her on. Just a glimpse of that hair that lead to other places. Millie found herself falling in love with every inch of Greg’s body, even the inches she didn’t know about yet.
Millie stood on the outskirts of her high school football field, safely behind the diamond patterned fence. She watched as Greg played football with a few of his friends. This became a routine for Millie. At least three times a week, she would pass by the football field after school to see if Greg was there. Sometimes he was and sometimes he wasn’t. He and his friends didn’t have a set schedule to play, only when the mood struck them or one of them didn’t have to go to work. When he wasn’t there, an ache of disappointment would fill Millie’s insides. Sometimes other girls would stay after school and join Milie in watching Greg play, although they never actually
joined her. They would stand in her general area, sometimes smile at her, but never talk to her. Millie didn’t mind. She knew she was Greg’s biggest fan, that the bubble headed blondes could never love him like she did. No, not in the slightest. It was this fact that kept Millie from getting jealous of the prettier, skinnier girls.
Not that Millie was ugly
or fat. She just lacked a little self confidence and thus, only felt that way. In fact, Millie was quite cute, if not a little plain. She kept her strawberry blond hair a little past her shoulders, mostly always straight and parted down the middle. Millie didn’t wear makeup as she always felt fake under it and a bit clownish. The reason could be that Millie was never taught how to apply makeup correctly. She wouldn’t dare ask her mother because she was prone to applying too much makeup herself. And Millie didn’t have any girl friends so she never bothered. And she didn’t need to. Millie’s complexion was fresh and creamy, a welcome change from her bout with acne she had had a few years before. Millie always looked neat and clean but never went out of her way to look gorgeous. If any random stranger were to comment on her style, one might say she’d be a very gorgeous girl if she would only fix herself up a bit more. A little blush, a little mascara. Some would even say it seemed like she tried to underplay her figure. And they would be right.
Millie went through all the typical teenage trauma: terrible skin, awkward growth spurts that left her body out of proportion and gawky, bad fashion choices. Middle school was a terrible time for Millie. Her fragile self-esteem couldn’t carry the burden of her braces so she became a hermit. But, once Millie hit high school, she had outgrown her problem skin and no longer needed her braces. Something else happened to Millie as well. She grew breasts. Big, round, beautiful breasts.
While other girls were developing early, Millie remained flat and frustrated. Millie’s mother swooped in to save the day with a typical Mom’s “when I was your age” speech. She assured Millie that one day she would develop and that she was just a "late bloomer." Millie always cringed at that awful and outdated expression.
“I didn’t develop until I was fifteen,” her mother told her one day. This did make Millie feel a little better and even more so when she looked down at her mother’s chest. Despite being a forty-two-year old woman who breastfed both Millie and her little brother, Billie (which consequently did lead to a bit of sagging) Millie’s mother had quite an ample bosom.
Those will be mine one day Millie thought to herself in wide eyed wonder.
Sure enough, that summer, Millie began to grow. It was as if a signal were sent to her breasts telling them they were lagging behind. And they were catching up very fast. A few weeks and several trips to the mall for new bras later and Millie had a beautiful new figure. She could only imagine the surprise on the faces of all those she knew when she came back to school with one new hairdo and two perky breasts. She was even asked by a few envious girls if she had a boob job over the summer!
Millie’s beautiful new body did backfire to some degree. Not only did she feel good about her new body, so did a lot of the boys in her grade. Millie’s new look lead to lots of attention from her male classmates. Some of it was good but most of it was creepy. Millie would sometimes catch guys staring at her chest in class. This made Millie very uncomfortable and so she withdrew from people again. She also began to wear the most unflattering clothes she could find. Millie was insecure in middle school because she felt she wasn’t pretty enough and now, in high school, she was feeling insecure for being too pretty. She wondered if she’d ever feel good about herself like the other girls.
To get her mind off of her troubles, Millie would draw. It seemed Millie had a hidden talent for art, a talent found while seeking solace from the cruel world when she was “ugly.” As Mille battled through her awkward period, her weapons were pencils and paper. Millie expressed her emotions through her art. Even Millie’s mother was surprised at her daughter’s talent, as she could barely draw a stick figure man. Then, she remembered Millie’s father used to draw when he was a very young child. Perhaps it was another gift he passed along besides his nose and deep gray eyes.
What once was a passion for Millie fizzled itself into a hobby once school started back. She wasn’t able to draw very much until she was able to take an art class. Her teacher, Mrs. Bentley, was thoroughly impressed with Millie’s work and encouraged her to enter the different local art contests that were held in the area. She entered in several, placed in many and even one a few first prize ribbons. Not too bad for an amateur artist.
Millie fell in love the day she was harassed by a group of football players in front of her locker after fourth period. She was exchanging the books in her backpack when Peter (known as Pete the Perv to all the girls in school) walked up to her and put his elbow on a locker next to hers. Standing next to him was his right hand man, Kent. There were two other guys standing with them but she didn’t know their names. They were in a grade below Millie and the only people Millie knew were people with which she shared classes. But, Millie knew that collectively they were known as the Circle Jerks, not only because they
were jerks, but because a year earlier they were all caught by Coach Bowers in the locker room engaging in a mutual masturbation session. No one dared call them that to their faces, though, as the few people who did ended up with bloody noses and bruised bodies. But, when they weren’t within earshot, people would say under their breath, “Watch out, the Circle Jerks are coming!” Then, people would scatter like dropped marbles. And they scattered for good reason. Pete the Perv was the leader of the sleaze gang and he was the biggest womanizer to ever enter Green Hills High School. He was a serial cherry popper and was proud of it. His two passions in life were football and sex, not unlike other men, but Peter just took it way too far.
Peter relied on his good looks and fake charm to bag the girls. He wasn’t a stunning looking guy, but he did have a boyishly handsome face and a decent body from all those years of being on the football team. It also helped that he was rich. He went through condoms like Kleenex. Peter would find a pretty young (and naïve) girl, make her feel like she was the prettiest girl in the world, then, just as he would gain all of her trust, he would have sex with her and then dump her. That is, unless she was a great lay. In that case, he would bang her a few more times and
then dump her. His philosophy was “befriend 'em, bed 'em, then beat those bitches to the door!”
Peter left a seemingly endless trail of broken hearts and broken hymens. After being used, the girls were confused and more than anything, they were
angry. Despite his experience, Peter wasn’t very good in bed. He wasn’t very well endowed, either, and didn’t know what to do with what little he had. And although these poor young girls were virgins, Pete liked it rough. He would mount them and then drive himself into them as hard as he could, pump a few times and then climax, releasing the most unattractive squeal of satisfaction. But, the girls were never satisfied. And because of the way he had viciously violated their insides, they were not only left with bruised hearts, but with bloody bed sheets as well.
Millie silently groaned to herself when she saw Pete the Perv and his gang come up to her.
“Hey, there, Millie,” he said it a sickeningly sweet voice. He barely knew Millie and had never even spoken to her until he noticed the two attractive growths on her chest. His glassy brown eyes zoned in on the buttons of Millie's cardigan, the way the fabric stretched across her breasts, the way they slightly rose with her breath.
“Hi,” she said in a politely dismissive tone. Millie quickly zipped up her backpack, crossed her arms over her chest and gave Peter a politely dismissive smile. She tried to walk away but Peter stopped her and softly grabbed her arm. The spot where Peter put his hand sent ripples of goose bumps up and down Millie’s arm.
“So, I noticed you’ve done some growing over the summer,” he said in a cocky manner. His tongue poked out of his mouth and slid across his thin lips, leaving them wet and shiny. Kent and the other two were leering at Millie. She could actually feel their eyes fondling her chest. “Can I squeeze them?”
Peter wasn’t good with tact.
“Okay, I’ve
really got to get to class,” Millie said firmly. She shrugged off Peter’s arm and started again when he stopped her again. He grabbed her arm once more, this time a little harder.
Peter stepped closer to Millie, his thin, wet lips only centimeter's from her ear.
“I don’t think you answered my question,” he said, almost hurt.
“The answer is no,” Millie said flatly.
“No one says no to Peter Caravelli,” Pete said, as if she should have known better.
“Well, I just did.”
Peter’s grip on Millie tightened until he started to hurt her. Millie’s eyes grew wide with fear. Peter started to say something else when a booming voice interrupted his own.
“Hey! Stop it, Peter!” Greg shouted.
Peter looked over and saw Greg walking up to him. He let go of Millie and then smiled a sickeningly sweet smile at Greg. It was the kind of smile he'd flash anytime he got in trouble or if he was trying to impress a girl. Millie could see how his smile would soothe anyone he angered and trap any girl he wanted to conquer. It was a good smile, an attractive smile, one that lit up his whole face and invited his eyes to become brighter. It was deceiving. If she didn't already know what a sleaze he was, she might have been charmed.
“We were just having a nice conversation,” Peter said.
“I highly doubt that. Now, why don’t you and the rest of the Circle Jerks go away,” Greg said.
Fire rose in Peter’s eyes. The sweetness on his lips dried up into a frown. If it were anyone else but Greg, that person would have been paralyzed. But, Greg was probably the best football player on the team and Peter looked up to him for his skill, respected him. Peter let it go because it was Greg. He and Kent and the rest of them slinked off down the halls and out of sight.
Millie and Greg locked eyes. In that split second, Millie felt something she had never felt before. She felt love for a man. Her father died when she was three and she had no memories of him. Any that she might have had when she was younger slowly faded away with age. She had no uncles and only a few male cousins but they lived out of state so she never saw them. It was mainly just her and her mom. Millie never had a male figure in her life. Millie had never loved a man before. That was, until now. And in that split second, she not only felt love for Greg for saving her from Peter, but she felt a lifetime of love for him. She fell in love with those brown eyes of his and fell in love with his heart.
Millie knew of Greg, just like she knew
of a lot of people without ever actually knowing them in person. Millie knew that Greg was on the football team and that he did well in school. She also knew Greg wasn’t a typical dumb jock. His name was always found on the honor roll and he would speak to everyone in the halls, no matter if they were rich or poor, black or white, gothic or preppy. Greg was just a friendly guy who had love in his heart for everyone and he spread that love around. And now Millie was catching some of that love and sending some back to him. Millie had always found him attractive from far away, but now that he was closer, she could see what a truly handsome guy he was. His short, cocoa colored hair shined like glass under the florescent lights. If Millie had to define its style, she would have said “just after sex bed head.” Greg was tall, over six feet Millie guessed, and quite lean. He wasn’t muscle bound and he certainly wasn’t skinny, but just the right amount of muscle. His tight t-shirt defined his toned arms perfectly. He was a shirt and jeans kind of guy, wearing his letterman jacket on cold days. His sparkling eyes always gave off a sense of warmth and openness. The brown reminded her of hot chocolate and she was instantly comforted by them, warmed by their gaze. Greg’s skin took on a golden hue due to his many football practices outside. And now that he was smiling at her, Millie noticed his teeth. They were pearly white, but not perfect. His right canine tooth slightly crossed his lateral incisor. This broke Millie’s vision of his perfection at first, then only reinforced it. That slightly crooked tooth showed that Greg was real, not some unattainable Adonis. He was genuine. His imperfections made him perfect. Millie called them his “unperfectly perfect” teeth.
“Sorry about Pete the Perv,” he said.
“Oh, um, it’s okay,” Millie stammered. “I guess it’s a good thing you came along. Since he’s your friend he listened to you when you told him to leave.”
Greg laughed and Millie melted underneath the sound.
“He is not my friend! He is on my team, but that’s where our relationship ends. He’s a total jerk and treats women terribly. Actually, he treats
everyone terribly. Listen, if he ever gives you trouble again, just let me know, okay? I’ll have a talk with him. For some reason, he listens to me.”
Millie fell a little more in love with him. He not only had a beautiful face, but a beautiful soul as well.
“I’ll do that, thankyousomuch,” she said way too fast, a huge smile spreading across her face. The intensity of his beauty was too much for her to take and Millie had to look down at her shoes.
“Well, I think the bell is gonna ring soon. I gotta get to class before I'm late. I’ll see ya around, Millie. It’s Millie, right?”
Oh, my God! He knows my name! He knows my naaame!
“Right!” she said in a high pitched giggle. Millie heard the word reverberate in her ears and quickly realized how stupid she sounded. She wanted to die.
Greg only smiled his “unperfectly perfect” smile and then waved goodbye to Millie before heading off to class.
Millie’s smile only grew as she closed her eyes and sunk in the events of the last few moments. She thought to herself,
I just talked to the man I’m going to marry.
Although Millie had never had a crush on a boy before, she knew that this wasn’t just a normal crush. She knew this was real, true love. Millie never doubted her feelings for one second. She was enamored with this Greek god, this beautiful being who had swept in and swept her off her feet while protecting her from Pete the Perv. The shrilling sound of the bell crashed inside Millie's head and brought out of her daydream romance with Greg. She practically
floated to class.
Memories flooded back to Millie as she stood on the football field. She recalled her first meeting with Greg and the encounter with Peter. A streak of hatred ran through her body at the mention of Peter’s name, although she didn’t know why. Millie had forgotten a lot of things over the past few days. Or weeks, or months? Millie put one hand through the chain link fence and pretended the material between her fingers were Greg’s fingers. She caressed the fence in hopes that somehow she could transfer the sensation of her fingers over to Greg just by the power of her heart. Millie looked down and noticed a red card in her other hand. She turned it over and looked at it. A Valentine. Suddenly, Millie remembered. It was Valentine’s Day. And she remembered making the card for Greg.
After meeting Greg for the first time, the next few weeks were filled with Millie seeing Greg in the hall and he would always wave and flash his flawless smile at Millie. Millie would drink up every drop and feel full for the rest of the day, satiated by the daily slices of Greg she would get to indulge in. They never had time to talk as they were always walking to their next class. Not that Millie would have spoken to him, anyway. Millie was painfully shy despite her beauty. And she doubted Greg even thought of her more than just another victim of Peter. But, she loved him regardless, whether they talked or whether she’d silently see him pass by. As long as she could look at him, she realized she was okay. He was her link to her world. And her world was Greg.
Millie decided to use her art to show Greg just how much she loved him. Millie didn’t have any pictures of Greg and would feel way too awkward asking for one, so she dug out her old yearbook from the year before and found Greg’s picture. He looked younger in the picture. His face was a bit fuller, his hair a bit longer, but that smile was still the same. And those beautiful eyes. Millie decided to take Greg’s proportions from the yearbook and draw him as he was today, more mature, more chiseled, more beautiful. Millie never had a problem drawing people. Sometimes she was so good the drawing would look photo realistic. But, knowing the picture was going to go to her future husband, Millie put herself under a lot of pressure and she had a hard time getting it right. After several nights of crumpled paper and broken pieces of chalk, Millie finally finished. She stood back, her cheeks and forehead smudged with charcoal, and was happy with the final product. She just hoped Greg would be as well.
Millie had planned on giving the drawing to Greg the next day, but before she could put the picture away, she had second thoughts.
Would that be weird? Would he think I was a creepy stalker? We’ve only talked once. What if I scare him away? No, I can’t do that. I can’t give him this picture. Milie put the drawing of Greg away in one of her drawers.
Now, looking down, she remembered that she realized it wasn’t weird or creepy at all, but a beautiful thing to do for someone else. And she felt in her heart he’d think so, too. Millie was struck with many realizations in the moment that she glanced down at the Valentine card with Greg’s picture in it. Millie remembered her newfound bravery in the decision to give the picture to Greg. Her head began to spin with memories and realizations. Millie wanted to express her love for Greg even though she knew he would never fall in love with her. Without the worry of wondering about his reaction to her declaration of love for him, Millie knew she’d be able to give him the picture with a little Valentine thrown in, in honor of the big day. Millie knew Greg wouldn’t fall in love with her. Everything was coming back. It was very clear in her head now. Millie wasn’t feeling insecure, only certain of this. She wasn’t worried about her silly problems she used to have. It’s not that Millie didn’t feel pretty enough or thin enough. No, Millie had a much bigger problem.
Millie was dead.
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