A Love story?

I think that'll be the name of the new story I've been writing.
Tell me how you like it so far!

I never wanted to take band. I didn’t even want anything to do with making music. Now, I’m not saying I don’t want to listen to music. I love hip-hop, pop, rock, you know, the works.
One thing I knew I wanted though was to NOT be a band geek. I still remember my “debate” with my mom. Neither side giving in, letting words fly, emotions running rampant, fists and legs pumping from exertion. The daily stuff.
As I dreaded my seventh period of junior high school, begging for school to suddenly end early, I couldn’t help but imagine what lay behind the band door. The old, rusty tubas, squeaky chairs, what nots, and who cares. Oh, the teacher too.
But even worse was who was going to be waiting behind that door. No….NO…please, don’t let me see it….. AGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
NERDS!!!BRACES, GLASSES, RUNNING NOSES, HIGH-PITCHED VOICES, WHINING, FRAIL, TINY BODIES, ADD!!!!!!!!
Oh, somebody, HELP ME PLEASE!!!
The door opens.

I wonder what kind of music we will get to play this year? Beethoven? Bach? Mozart? Oh I hope it’s classical! The beat-pop, hip-hop, rap is just plain nasty. There’s no soul, no real MUSIC in them. Just a bad beat, and worse lyrics…
(knock, knock, knock)
“Mrs. Veera? Mrs. Veera, are you there?”
Some shuffling can be heard behind the office door. A crooked handle is lifted, and an elderly woman of 50 or 60 steps out to the girl, with a cheery attitude of that, one your grandmother wears all the time. Even still, the wrinkles and frown lines are clearly visible on her face. But, as all grandmothers must, she puts on a smile and addresses the developing teenager.
“Yes dear?” she asks.
“Um, I was wondering what kind of music we will be playing this year?” she queried.
“Oh, just wait. I’ll tell you when class starts, along with everybody else. Speaking of everyone else, I believe everyone is here except for one boy, where is he? The bell will ring any second now…”

I wasn’t disappointed.
It was just nerds…everywhere.
Glasses polished. Noses blown. Coughs stifled. Rackets quieted.
Not even the girls did well. I thought I spotted a catch or two, but as they turned, their acne-ridden faces begged me to turn away.

That boy just walked in. Medium height. Brown hair, shiny on his head. Wore clothes like he didn’t care. Nothing much really. A hint or a spark here and there. Nothing to rouse a girl’s attention.
The bell started ringing.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
……………………………………Ding.
I’m not sure if anyone’s listening, but God, if your up there, thank you. You sent me an angel.
Physically speaking, she wasn’t ALL THAT. She was developing, obviously, but she still had it going for her in all directions.
No acne. No frizzy, poofy, unattractive hair. Hers was dark brown, straight, down to her shoulders, like velvet curtains drawn open to reveal something spectacular inside. She was wearing a blouse and a skirt, displaying her features well. She didn’t have much body fat, if any, but she did have…lady curves. You know, the ones that attract the guys? She wore flat-heeled shoes, but judging by her posture, he could tell she would be just as steady with high-heels and a dress. If she wore much makeup, he couldn’t tell. She did wear some though: he could see her lips sparkle, and her cheeks had a glossy sheen.
Their eyes locked for a moment, revealing her startlingly blue eyes. This held for only a moment, but it seemed like forever. He could gaze into those eyes until time stood still…he could even see-
He was awakened from his dreams by a large crash near his foot. It was hard to tear his eyes away, but as he looked down, he was yanked brutally back to reality.
He had dropped his books.
He heard all the voices, saw all the people, suddenly, as if a whip had cracked in front of him, turning his senses back on. As he bent down to seize his books from the floor, he could fell their pressing stares baring down on him. Why did this kid just walk in, look around, and then stare at some girl and drop his books?……unless…….
No, no, I don’t want to think about that. I have more pressing matters to attend to, like getting to my seat. Then I shall be free to ponder of her…….

Did I have something on my face? She kept feeling her teeth, and hair when he started picking up his books. It was obvious he saw something on her. There was a mirror next to her to look at but she had no need.
She wasn’t dumb.
He was obviously staring AT HER, she could tell during their moment’s connection. But it was like a broken vacuum being plugged into the wall. Electricity could be seen flowing into the cord, but the vacuum wasn’t doing anything….She too, started staring at him as he walked off, trying to divert their gaze at him, but she didn’t understand why….

Was that really what I thought it was? Could she have actually been that… Cute? Someone who is sexy gets noticed, but then forgotten. And beautiful was a little too strong a word for a five second meeting.
As he brooded more and more about her, he oculdn’t help but realize how he knew who she was, is.
She was his first crush.
He had a problem though…
He didn’t even know this girl’s name.

It's just the first chapter so....and my first story in a long time
I hope for a great book at the end!