Sabine and Scott

It took maybe a second, quick flash of bright, blue green eyes, white toothed grin and I was his. Totally and completly, and it wasn't even third period yet.
We knew each other before this because we had gone to school together. But sometime between our sophmore and junior years, Scott got really cute. Or maybe I just got my head out of my art long enough to notice-whatever, it doesn't matter. What mattered was that I was in true love with the hottest, most popular boy in school.
Hot and popular he might have been but smart he really wasn't. It wasn't that he was dumb, he just spent more time playing sports than he did studying, if he studied at all. Still, I was to benefit from his lack of cracking books, because our school had a GPA requirement for atheltics that it enforced. Hence me becoming his German tutor.
At first I was a little scared of him. He was so cute and incredibly out of my social league. I was seriously embarrassed to think that my last date had run for chess club president and lost. A reject from the rejects, if you would. At least I had moved up the world. Anyway, it took almost all of my limited theater training to get the nerve to talk to him.
"Hallo. Ich bin Sabine."
"Hallo," he replied. "Ich bin Scott."
"Wie geht's Scott?"
He glanced down at the paper that held the translations, confused. "What does that mean?"
"You know what that means. Wie?"
"Means how...oh here it is. What's up? Umm... Nichts. Und du?"
And so it was, week after week. I started out simply considering how behind he was but eventually he got to the point where we could have a conversation that wasn't printed in a textbook.
Still, our conversations were not enough to do more than temporarily bridge the gap between the cool kids and the freaks. Outside in the world of high school, I was lucky for him to glance my way. Even we did happen to pass one another, he'd turn his back, dashing my hopes of friendship. I wrote it off to a jealous girlfriend.
Until one day, (after Scott broke up with his girlfriend), when my friend Trina and I were dashing through the halls trying desparately to make it to play rehearsal on time. As the art and music directors, we needed to be on time, and as a result were going so fast that I almost didn't see him, until he said "Hi Sabine." I braked so hard Trina crashed into me.
"Wie geht's?" he continued, trying to impress us. "Nichts," I replied. "Ich muss zu meiner Wiederholung gehen."
"You have to go where?" he asked.
"To rehearsal. I'm the assistant art director." Yeah, I was bragging- sue me.
"Oh that's cool," he said generically. "What are you doing this weekend?" He asked it so casually and unexpectedly that my heart just about leapt chest. "Nothing," I manged to reply "Just play rehearsal." "Good," he said. "I've got a test in German on Monday. Do you think you could help me study for it?".
Thank god Trina was holding me down as realized what he said. Sure it wasn't a date, but still. "Sure!" My reply sounded happier than a crackheaded version of Barney the dinosaur's, but I continued even though I could feel Trina cringe.
"When?"
"Saturday. Here, let me give you my number." He scribbled something down as I nearly wet my pants in excitement. He was off with a wave and a see you a moment later.
"Oh my God," I breathlessly drooled to Trina when he was gone.
"Yeah he was amazing," she said, consideerably less than impressed as she grabbed my arm and pulled me away. "Let's go."

He came over on Saturday and we studied. And talked and laughed while I finshed showing him how to study. He was really more amazing than I thought; he was funnier and smarter than I thought him to be. Even my mother adored him, even though she would have adored any boy with a hair color found in nature, no visble piercings and with the social skills to say hello to her when they met. Anyway, we had such a great time on Saturday that he came over on Sunday to study some more, and the following week, he asked me to the football game.
Of course I went, even though my knowledge of football was limited to knowing to cheer when our team got the ball by the yellow things. I was gratful to have been thought of and elated to have been asked-I was on my way to being considered normal.