(Yay!)
She had been sitting under a tree throwing a rubber ball up in the air. He had been working up the courage to talk to her all day, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. She didn’t look up when he walked over.
Oliver had heard rumors about her. “A tragic past,” a girl in Oliver’s english class had whispered to her friend. “Someone at her old school tried to feel her up.”
“I heard they succeeded,” her friend had whispered back. The teacher had just called roll, calling her “Samantha Mi-Gyeong” but pronouncing “guy-ong”. Oliver didn’t know exactly how to pronounce it, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t that. But Sam didn’t even bother to correct him. She just raised her hand, looking bored.
Oliver didn’t stand too close, not wanting to scare her off. She looked athletic. In P.E. she had run faster than any of them and she barely broke a sweat. She could probably beat him up. “Um, hi.” His voice came out quiet. He waited but the girl didn’t say anything. Her only reaction was her eyes darting to look at his shoes. Maybe she hadn’t heard him. He took a breath and tried again. “My name’s Oliver.” He looked down at the basketball in his hands.
There was a heavy sigh. “Sam.”
Oliver’s head jerked up in shock. “Hi! My name’s uh. I mean.” Oliver was pretty sure he saw Sam’s brow furrow. “My mom made chocolate chip cookies yesterday. And I have an extra. Do you want one?”
Sam finally looked up at him, and he got his first real look at her. Her eyes were brown, like his. Her hair reached just above her shoulder and looked a little choppy, like whoever had cut it hadn’t done a very good job. Her eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down. She looked tense when her eyes reached the basketball, but she kept going. Then she studied his face like she was searching for lies. Finally, she looked at the ball in her hands and shrugged, scooting over just a little to make room for him. “Thanks.” Oliver sat down, leaning against the tree, but still giving Sam her space. He passed her a cookie “So what do you think of the school so far? Is it pretty different from your old school?” Their school was a private school. Oliver was there on a partial sports scholarship and a partial academic scholarship.
Sam glared at him like she couldn’t believe he was still talking. “It’s different,” she finally admitted.
“Yeah, this place is pretty different from where any of us have ever been. Did you play sports at your old school? You left the football team in the dust in P.E. today.”
“I played a couple. I also just run a lot.”
“You should totally join track or cross country. I heard both of those teams suck at our school. You could really help them out.”
“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”
“Why not?”
Sam sighed like she was exasperated. “Because. Running isn’t my main sport. And I . . . don’t really do teams anymore.”
“Oh.” Oliver was insanely curious, but he knew not to pry. “That’s a shame.”
“Besides, if I was going to do a team sport, it wouldn’t be a running one. That’s lame. There’s barely any competition. It’s just you and time.”
“Well yeah, but you’re competing against someone else’s time.”
“Still lame. What’s your deal, are you an advocate for track or something?”
“No, just trying to find a sport for you. Do you play basketball?”
Sam’s grip on the ball tightened. “I used to.”
“Used to?”
“Yup.”
“Oh. That’s a shame.” Oliver gently tossed the ball between his hands. “I was going to see if you wanted to play.”
“Well, sorry to disappoint.”
“No, it's okay. I got it.” Oliver wondered if Sam wanted him to leave.
She sighed, surprising him. “Sorry. I mean . . . maybe some other time?”
Oliver smiled. Sam looked up. “Yeah, of course.”