Marie was very nervous that first Saturday in May. She had a good reason to be nervous: it was her first speech and debate tournament, and she was representing her school alone. So at 7 a.m., Marie had arrived at her school to head down to New Jersey with her debate coach for her first tournament. She dressed herself in black, a theatrical sort of choice, for the pieces she was performing were "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe in Poetry and a section of "The Silver Kiss" for Prose. She would also be taking part in a category called Impromptu, a category she was very nervous about.
But the black went well with her long, breathtaking jet hair and her bright green eyes that had a sort of feline sense to them, alluring underneath her long lashes that any model would have killed for. Her 18-year-old body was slender, like a dancer combined with a runner. She had a dazzling smile and pouty, gentle pink lips like the color of a rose in full bloom.
Marie gazed at her reflection on the car's window as the sun rose over the school where the tournament was taking place, prepping herself in her mind for what would happen. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out as she got out of the car.
Oliver was stunned the moment he saw the girl dressed in black walk up the steps to the New Jersey school doors. He had heard this girl was representing her school by herself.
She may take us all by surprise. She's certainly dressed to kill.
Her black velvet skirt clung to her curvy figure, and her medieval square
Oliver was there with his school from New Jersey, doing Prose and Improv Pairs. He was aspiring to be an actor. With brown-blonde hair and a fun smile, he had a way to make people laugh and smile, being generally good-natured and comical. Oliver, who had just turned 18, was about average height, not muscled or athletic, but he wasn't fat or anything of the sort.
Marie saw the boy eyeing her from the door.
He's puppy dog cute.
He was wearing a blue shirt and shorts, very laid back for a tournament. She began to wonder what he was doing there.
Perhaps he came here to support friends.
At any rate, she had to get herself to her room where her first category, Prose, was taking place.
Oliver watched the dark girl enter the classroom, a nervous look on her face.
We are both doing prose.
He decided to finally say something. "Hey, you look a bit nervous," he whispered, leaning over towards her. She had taken the seat next to him.
"First time doing any of this," she replied a bit shakily.
"Just try not to get first, and take notes on what other people do to mark time and such."
"Thanks."
"I'm Oliver."
"Marie."
"What else are you doing?"
"Poetry and Impromptu." Marie was a bit perplexed and annoyed. Who was this guy, and why was he interrogating her?
"Quite a bit for someone so new."
"Coach thought I would have a shot at all of them." Marie raised her chin a little angrily.
And how did he know I'm new? Oh, why didn't I sit somewhere else?
"What about the rest of your team?"
"I am the team, today."
"Really?"
Someone who looked like a teacher came in. The judge for this round. "Quiet everyone! We are about to get started. Now, everyone please write your number, name, and piece for this round on the board." The tournament had begun.
As the day wore on, and the two moved on to their separate events, Marie noticed that Oliver arranged to see her between his event rounds for the tournament. After the first round, they never had an event in the same room again. It appeared that she was partaking in more events than he was, and he could afford the time to come find her after their first round together. At first, she was a bit suspicious of this behavior, but she had come to enjoy the attention during the last few rounds.
He likes me,
she thought, and she smiled slyly to him as he slipped into a chair to watch her perform in her final round of Impromptu.
*********************
Oliver ran up to Marie after the award ceremony. "I can't believe you placed for both Poetry and Impromptu and even scored your school sixth place all on your own! I'm very impressed!" And he threw his arms around Marie in a warm hug.
"Thanks," was all Marie could muster from the shock and surprise of the hug.
I barely know him, but I hope this hug can last.
To her disappointment, he let got of her, pulling back a bit to look her full in the face. She saw something that looked like a sort of longing in Oliver's eyes.
"Marie! Time to get going!" her coach called from the stairs.
"Listen, I need to get going, but I hope I get to talk to you sometime. Here is my screen name and my number." Marie handed him a piece of paper, her hand brushing against his has he closed his fingers around the paper. "Call me tonight, ok?" Marie asked as she walked away slowly.
"I will," Oliver promised.
**********************
Several years had passed since Oliver had smelled the vanilla perfume coming off of Marie's hair, her body pressed against his. Marie was a recent college graduate at 23, living at home, when she got a message from Oliver, whom she didn't recognize at first. Perhaps it was the fake afro he had been sporting in the picture she saw that had thrown her off.
"It's been how many years since that day?" Marie typed onto her AIM window.
"At least five, if not more," came the reply from Oliver.
"I want to see you, hang out, have lunch or something. It has been so long! We have so much to catch up on. When can I see you?"
"Well, it may not be for some time, but we will think of something. I have been taking up any jobs that come my way, but I am sure we will figure out something."
The opportunity came several days later. Marie needed to get out of her house, or else she would scream. "I'm going into the city to see a movie. You want to join me?" she texted to Oliver early one Monday morning.
Try The reply took some time, and after Marie anxiously waited for ten minutes, a "Sure!" came back