dominos.

So it starts. The unfolding of a story I've been dying to tell. A story about me that isn't about me at all. I have over 30 pages now, but I'll just share the beginning with you. Avid followers, please forgive the first little bit, for it is a repeat post.

Chapter One
“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” The flick of my adolescent life’s very first domino happened in ninth grade when my historically crumbling high school decided locker partners would be the simplest way to deal with the sudden surge in student enrollment. Assigned locker partners. “Shoji…you’re with Lindsey,” my teacher called out, and I summoned a rare moment of bravery, allowing myself one fleeting glance. The gorgeous creature that was Lindsey Swan swirled out of her chair and, although I had every intention of playing it cool, this particular girl had perfected the art of inherent seduction. I stared helplessly as she swung her perfect legs to one side of the desk, threw me a polite smile and in one majestic movement, swept up and plucked a lock from the cardboard box near the door. I was busy thanking God for both springtime and miniskirts when I realized she was looking at me. Oh ya… Shoji Katō. That was me. I paused for another moment to curse my overly proud Japanese father for not giving me a normal name, stumbled awkwardly out of my chair and then out the door. In the thirteen steps it took me to reach the locker, I coordinated the perfect thing to say, but it seems Lindsey beat me to it.

“I’ll go on top,” she proclaimed, completely oblivious to the statements affect on my hormone-plagued mind. She then turned around and promptly started filing her thick, shabby textbooks onto the upper shelf.

“Yeah… okay,” I replied, immediately struck with the overwhelming desire to bury my head in the floor. Two monosyllabic grunts had now begun the only real conversation I’d ever had, with the hottest, most sought after girl in school. So I filed my books below hers in silence, uncomfortably aware of our shoulders as they softly collided every so often. She smiled and made the tiniest of giggles every time it happened, seemingly just fine with having me that close to her. I couldn’t help the foolish grin that slid up my face as my ego inflated... and she caught me.

“What are you smiling so big about?”

I denied any such action, buying time to think up something clever and provoking more hand to arm contact when she nudged me playfully, purring her best persuasion techniques.

“I was just thinking… I always imagined you as the girl who would like it better on top.”

Her eyes widened as the joke set in and I swear I could feel the perception shift as she let out a musical laugh and nudged me a little more, this time with her hip pressed into mine.

“Oh you know what I meant.”

And I’m sure I must have, although at that moment, I hadn’t the slightest clue what was happening. Lindsey Swann had just talked to me, laughed at something I said, and invoked physical contact undeniably categorized as flirting. This was already the best year ever.