The Game of Love Chapter 1

Hi all,

I promised a story coming up, and here it is! There's a special feature at the end of each chapter: There'll be a song to follow up. I may have quoted the song's lyrics, or the song just fits the chapter so well. Yup, enjoy, and I do know that I don't write well. Mark gave me the inspiration to write this story, and this is NOT random, by the way.

Few can understand the true power of what some term love, some term infatuation. Of course, some will come up to you and go on about how love is not infatuation and infatuation only comes about during puberty. Then again, the thesaurus can't see the difference, and frankly, will any teenager be able to?

Then again, who are the teenagers to speak, a few years later, when only bitter memories don't fade?

Now I think I know, what you tried to say to me and how you suffered for your sanity and how you tried to set them free...

Puberty, though not manifested to its highest form yet, was waxing when I entered the new school for a new life. I was a rural villager in New York then, wandering around, occasionally banging heads, guard kept high.

She made me lower my guard.

Perhaps it was because she was small. Being nearly one full year younger than me, her height was in deficit as well. My fatal flaw in guard must have been small.

Or perhaps it was because she was cheery. Joy evolved into a smile on her face, a twinkle in her eyes, an optimism in her voice, and it showed itself in its purest form in her atmosphere. No doubt this quality is what those nuns have developed in those old movies where they speak to hardcore convicts.

Whatever she had that sent me sprawling in defeat, I had no counter-plan. With no counter plan to just a one-second attack that wasn't even directed at me, I knew that my sorry life would end when we were put into the same class.

One month later, her attack became full-scale.

Cheers,

Darrel