Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she scanned the bleachers. There were a few boys as always, there strictly for the show. But then she spotted him again, still in the same seat, still as distant as ever. And all of a sudden he interested her.
He didn't acknowledge her when she approached him. She almost didn't want to bother him, but then decided it would be for his own good.
"Come here often?" She asked. He looked up, assuming a gentle smile.
"More and more as of late. This place brings me a certain comfort. I find it difficult to explain." He was certainly stuffy, but then he seemed familiar too. She pushed that thought aside.
"I take it you're not here to enjoy the view, then?" He shook his head.
"I don't often give the impression, but I can appreciate beauty. Perhaps not as much as some others I could name," One of the other boys hurled an indistinct cat call, "But I do, nonetheless. But that isn't why I come here." Usually at this point she would make some excuse and leave the poor soul alone, but not this time. Why else would he be here if not to ogle?
"Then what do you come here for?" She sat down two rows ahead of him, looking up.
"If you are really so inclined, I'll tell you. But first you must convince me." She smiled in spite of herself; even his cheek was well said.
"I see you here a lot, and it's obviously not for the sake of the girls. You're always so distant, as if you weren't here at all. Dwelling on something you lost, maybe?" She took a wild guess. He didn't say anything for a moment. Then, as the practice game went on without her, he spoke.
"I've always been envious of athletes. You see my brother is a pinnacle of physical development; he's so strong and coordinated that watching move is a treat in and of itself. I find myself...regretting my choices. For all my intelligence and talents, this world of muscle and skill will forever be beyond me. I don't believe it's something one can just pick up. Either you're nurtured into it as a child, or you miss out." She hadn't really expected such an in depth response from someone so quiet. But she didn't mind him explaining it; he seemed so much more mature than many boys her age.
"Yeah, I can see where you're coming from. I mean, I've been playing soccer since I was three or four. I can't imagine not playing." He nodded.
"And thus you see my dilemma. I don't know why I regret these things. Surely I'll accomplish more with an education than with all the athletic talent in the word. But still, the feeling never quite goes away." He looked up at last, and a feeling of deja vu hit her again, "Are there no choices in your life that you've come to regret?" She ignored her feeling, instead pondering the question.