The Perfect Shoes.

Senior year of high school is supposed to be care free. It is supposed to be a year of cherishing friendships that will dwindle with the start of college. It is supposed to be about feeling as if you own the town. Your parents (most likely) loosen the reigns. Curfew is extended. You can go to a casino (legally). It is supposed to be "the time of your life." It was anything but for me.
It was about a month before Senior year was to start. Captains practices for volleyball had been going on for about two weeks, and tryouts for varsity were just around the corner. I had been bugging my parents to take me out to get new shoes. I wanted to make the most of my senior season. Since my parents were fairly unresponsive to my requests for new shoes, I took it upon myself to go out and find the perfect pair.
I ventured to the mall, and that is where I met him. He was working at the shoe store. I had never been extremely aware of the opposite sex. I was always too busy to notice. Ever since I can remember, my parents allowed me to participate in any sporting activity I could manage to fit into my cramped schedule. In fact, the first boy crush I remember having dissipated the second my parents decided to move to a new city...which also allowed me to shift my focus from that particular boy, to school and sports.
I will never forget the way He looked at me. The way our eyes just gazed at each other. He made my tummy flip, and it was an amazing feeling. I wouldn't tell my parents about Him, but I would definitely tell them that I found the perfect shoes.
The next day, my dad approached me and asked if I wanted to go and buy my volleyball shoes. I was taken aback, especially because I could hardly get either of my parents to talk with me about buying shoes, let alone volunteer their time to take me out.
I will never forget the ride to the shoe store. My dad had suggested we go to a store clear across town. I tried talking him into going to the mall where He was working, but I was unsuccessful, so across town we went. We made some small talk during the ride, but mostly sat in silence. We were exiting off of the highway, and my dad blurted out "Your brother found mom at home kissing another man." I was shocked. His true ulterior motive was revealed. My father didn't care about my shoes, he was trying to figure out a way to break the news to me that my parents were getting divorced, and that my mom had been unfaithful to my father.
My shoes obsession quickly disappeared, and I was filled with hurt, frustration and rage. How could she do that to my family, was all I could repeat in my head. I failed to recall all of the shouting matches my parents had been having. I failed to remember the last time my parents laughed together. The dysfunctional normalcy of my family would never be the same again.
I didn't tell a single person at volleyball about my family frustrations. I was lucky that I made the team, and, although my coach probably never knew, volleyball was the closest thing to normalcy I had in my life at that moment.
He actually called me as well. So many things were running through my head, and He was exactly what I needed to keep my focus off of my dissolving family life. He was 19, I was only 17. My parents would not have approved, but they were too busy discussing their divorce to notice.