My eyes couldn’t help but lose themselves in his. They were lápiz blue, with emerald and copper hues. He really was a beauty.

 The smell of sweat masked with Victoria’s Secret filled the air of the girls PE changing room. The scent didn’t make you gag, but it wasn’t good, that’s certain.

I wandered in, bag straps draped over my arms as if I were a coat hook. I sat down on the floor for a few moments, when I came to a realisation: it was empty. 

I panicked. “Oh my God! I’m late for the first volleyball practice!” I stripped off my clothes (the cute matching outfits my best friend Max and I got the other day) and suddenly thought to check the time. And that was when...

“WE DON’T EVEN HAVE 6TH PERIOD ON THE FIRST WEEK?!”

I was literally about to kill myself. Especially because somebody just came in, we couldn’t see each other at the wall that they were standing behind. 

It would be an intelligent use of one’s common sense to hurry up and get changed back into my clothes, but I was so anxious, all my body could manage was putting my mustard woollen jumper on. 

Then I stood there, dazed, in my underwear and jumper, head in hands, facing the corner of the room.

“Are you okay, kid?”

Crap. They have successfully walked in on me having a half-naked mental breakdown.

“Y-y-yeah... I’m- I’m alright,”

I was shuddering. Literally shaking.

“You don’t seem very... oh you know... fine.”

I turned around with pointless tears streaming down my cheeks. 

Woah.

And yep. It was only me that got caught having a half-fricking-naked panic attack in front of the cutest boy in the school. A 15 year old angel on earth. Had seen me in my underwear.

“Hey, aren’t you my little brothers friend?”

If he has a brother in my year, count me in as his friend.

“Um, well kind of,”

He slowly stepped closer to me, his aroma dazed me as I walked over to him even slower than he did, taking my hair out of my high-ponytail, scruffing it up.

“Ooh, sexy!”

I smiled, honestly rather seductively, at him beckoning him with my head. I wanted him to come over. He did.

 He came over to me. I ran my fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. This made him tingle.

Thoughts gushed over me like a tsunami: ‘Are we going to have sex?’ ‘My first kiss will be in the locker room?’ ‘I’m a slut, aren’t I?’...

Owen looked at me with slight concern as he stopped caressing my face and back.

“You’re thinking about something, what’s up?” He asked.

“Uh... the sky!” I replied (it sounds really rude and sarcastic now, but at the time it was a joke that would win the Grammy’s).

He rolled his eyes mockingly and held my chin. My mouth fell open and my eyes relaxed, slowly, slowly, closing. Our lips barely touched, as the sound of the door being unlocked echoed through the room... But nobody came in. It had been locked, but we kept going.