People were always difficult for her. And so, with her track record in mind, it’s quite easy to see why she never went up to him, introduced herself, and asked for his name.
Looking back, she’s not entirely sure what piqued her interest in the first place. But she ended up paying attention to him, his soccer sweater, and the fact that the soccer field was right by her parking stall. She looked, but never saw him.
He played trumpet. First period music. He was supposed to be playing guitar, but broke his hand.
She paid attention, for reasons she never stopped to consider the gravity of. And so it didn’t take long for her to lodge him in her brain, and to give him what was supposed to be a temporary, funny, name. Trumpet Soccer Player.
It stuck.
:::
part three. still writing. whoops.
yes I know the name is dumb. I know his name now. I'm not going to post it.
bye.
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