with confused looks but quickened their pace. Once they reached the group of adults, they looked at their parents with wondering eyes then smiled at the two strangers.
“Brittany. Katie. That was an amazing game you guys played tonight. I apologize that I hadn’t introduced myself earlier. My name is Paul Ratcliffe and I’m the head coach for women's soccer down at Stanford in California. My friend here is Bernard Muir and he’s the athletic director at Stanford. You both have caught our eye and we were hoping that you would accept our invitation to come play for us?”
Brittany and Katie looked at each other and smiled. They looked back at the two men and said, “Yes! We would love to!”
My First Love
By Miriam Farias
We get to the party and I see this guy. All I can think to myself is how cute he is.
I wasn't hot shit. I was not really worried about even getting a boyfriend at the time. There must be a reason to go and talk to him! Turns out he also kicks it with the same group of friends, so we introduce ourselves and it's kind of like a wave of electricity just going up my arm. It was meant to be, but I tried being cool and brushed it off. Not only was I talking to a guy I thought was cute as fuck, but I felt this magnetic feeling. It was warm and tingly. We went our own ways and drank with our friends and had a good time, but we exchanged numbers.
I never texted him. When we saw each other the next day, he acted as if he didn’t remember me. I tried not to act hurt, making the excuse that we were drunk, but a few weeks passed by and we started talking again. This time, we didn't stop. We talked every second of every minute of every day. We hung out all the time and he was so interested in me that it gave me so many butterflies. I adored him and you could say we were inseparable at this point. Being called a baby girl. When he called me mamas was my weakness while having that tight warm hug. I felt like butterflies going crazy in my stomach. Everything he did was just perfect to me and no words could describe how he made me feel.
After we had been talking for a few months, he started to ask if I am a virgin. I tell him that I am and that I was waiting. I, myself, didn't even know why or what I was waiting for, but I was. He understood that and let me be, so we continued to do us like we normally did before. A few weeks pass by and he asks again. I knew I wasn't ready, not emotionally at least, so I continued to ask all these questions. Are you a virgin? What if I was one of the ones that got pregnant the first time I had sex? He answered all my questions so thoroughly that it made me feel so safe and sure about