Author's Note: Hey, guys! This is my first submission on the website (or any, really). It's going to be a long, multi-chaptered story about two kids falling in love. I know. Original, right? Anyhoo, just letting you know now, that it is one of those annoying stories where the sexy stuff doesn't happen until later on, so... just warning you now. Thanks for reading!
*****
"I don't really want to go to your party, Stephanie." Brody groaned into the phone.
"Why not?" asked the voice on the other line.
"I don't like your friends. I don't know how you like your friends. You're way too cool to hang out with half of them."
"Michelle will be there. You know, the one with the hair you like?"
He paused. "The blonde?"
"Yeah."
"Has she ever mentioned me? Like brought me up in casual conversation? You know, over coffee or something?"
"We don't drink coffee, and no. Sorry, Brody, but I'm pretty sure she has no idea who you are."
"But at that picnic thing we talked for at least five minutes straight."
"Well... I'm sure she'd recognize you, but if I said 'Brody' to her she would literally have no idea what I was saying."
"What do you mean she would 'literally' have no idea what you were saying?"
"Brody doesn't sound like a name. It sounds like a car part."
"No, it doesn't. It sounds like a name."
"Well, that's debatable."
"Technically, anything is debatable."
"Oh my God, Brody. I don't have the time to debate with you over the word debatable being debatable. Do you want to come? I'm starting to regret asking you."
"There will be food, right?"
"Snacks. Munchables."
"I'll come."
"Great. Hey, best case scenario you get to know, maybe hook up with, Michelle, right?"
"Right," he smiled. "And worst case, I choke on a Bugle and die in front of her."
"That's the spirit. I'll see you later."
_____________________________
Two weeks ago at the picnic thing...
"Ow!" He got hit in the face with a soccer ball.
"Sorry, man," a well-built friend of Stephanie's said while he peered down at Brody. "I meant to kick it to Joe." He pointed behind him to Joe, and Joe waved.
"It's fine. It's not like you did it on purpose. Balls go in all sorts of directions, so... Am I bleeding? I feel like I'm bleeding."
"No. You're not bleeding," the guy said with a "rolling your eyes" voice. Brody could just hear the well-built guy calling him a pussy in his mind.
Brody, who didn't take kindly to mind insults, said irritably, "Okay. Have fun."
The well-built guy's eyes narrowed. "Do you want to join in...?"
"No. I'm fine."
"Okay. Well, if you change your mind..."
"Yeah. I'll let you know."
"Okay." He kicked the ball to Joe.
"So... you're just going to sit on the grass on this beautiful summer day?" a voice from behind him asked.
Brody turned around and saw a very pretty blonde girl giving him a quizzical look.
"I like grass. It feels nice," he responded while fondling the grass with his fingers.
Noticing him intimately touching the grass she said, "You don't go outside much, do you?"
"I guess not."
"I can tell by the pasty skin."
"Thanks."
"Sorry," she smiled. "I just insulted you without introducing myself. I'm Michelle."
"I know. You're Stephanie's friend. I am, too."
Michelle gave him a surprised look. "You are friends with Stephanie?"
"Yeah. She lived across the street from me from fifth grade and up."
"And you guys stayed friends through high school and stuff?"
"Yeah. Why are you surprised?"
"I don't know. Stephanie hangs out with, like, those well-built soccer ball guys, and she's
gorgeous-"
"And I'm some pasty skinned loser who sits inside all day?"
Michelle looked slightly surprised then grinned. "Exactly."
Brody laughed and gave her an almost impressed look. "I wasn't expecting that."
"What were you expecting?"
"A contrite apology."
"Ooh... I don't apologize. Or act contrite unless it's actually necessary. And isn't a contrite apology a little redundant? I mean, almost all apologies are contrite by definition."
"Oh. You like words. That's cool." After, there was a semi-awkward pause. Michelle looked down at Brody and then the other guys playing soccer, then, giving a look that said "What the hell?" sat down next to Brody.
Michelle then pointed at the sky and said, "That cloud looks like The Enterprise."
Brody squinted as he looked up. "It does. I wish the sun wasn't so bright. I'd be able to see it better."
"Are you complaining about the sun?"
"It's too bright out here. I prefer the dark."
"Do you spend a lot of time in your parents' basement or something?" she teased.
He glanced at her, giving her a look of mock offense. "No. Besides, you're the one who made me look at a cloud that was shaped like The Enterprise."
Michelle laughed. "I guess I did."
"So... do you like the original, The Next Generation, or..." his face grew disgusted "...Deep Space 9?"
"Uhh... I liked the J.J. Abrams movie..." she said sheepishly.
"Aww... Come on."
"What? You didn't like it?"
"I liked it. It was pretty good, just... That's how you recognized The Enterprise?" He looked disappointed at the thought, and, for some reason, Michelle didn't want to disappoint him.
"No. I've seen Star Trek before. What I saw of the original I liked, but... I just haven't seen that much of it."
"It's my favorite, too. You can almost never beat an original. I have it on DVD-" As Brody put his hand down on the ground to lean on, he pressed it down on something hard. "Ouch!" he yelled. He looked down and saw an acorn. He picked it up, threw it, and then mumbled, "Damn nature" under his breath.
Michelle watched the incident and narrowed her eyes. 'Damn nature?' she thought to herself. 'Who doesn't like nature?' She then turned to him and said, "If you hate being outside, how did Stephanie get you to come to a picnic?"
"Have you had her chicken salad?"
"No. I'm a vegetarian."
"Everyone's a vegetarian," Brody said while rolling his eyes.
"No. That's not true."
"Well, obviously. I mean... if you tried her chicken salad, you might change your mind. It's amazing."
"What?" she asked skeptically. "It has converting powers or something?"
"Yeah. It's like the Angelina Jolie of..." he trailed off "food, I guess," not being able to come up with the right word.
"What do you mean by Angelina Jolie?"
"Like... How I would go gay for Robert Downey Jr. Most girls say they would go gay for Angelina Jolie. That's what I meant."