This story starts in late 2009…

“So, how’s senior year, Chad Dupree?” she said to me with that pretty smile of hers. As much as I was excited, I was also kind of nervous. It was my last year of high school. I was 18 at this point. She was 19.

“Do you miss me, Chad?” She said.

“A little bit,” I said to her. She was my first high school crush. Also, she lived three houses down from me. She was one of the first girls I set my eyes on when I arrived at that school. Her name was Cecily, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

As I listened to the band play, I was excited. Another school year was starting. I was a good student. Sometimes lazy, but mostly good. The bad thing was I was not looking forward to making new friends, which comes with the territory. Then, I looked up at the cheerleaders. One particularly took my attention away from the rest of them. I stared. She was in the front. Her smile was beautiful. She looked so bubbly. She stayed on my mind that whole night. This was not the last time I saw her.

The cheerleader (I eventually learned her name was Cecily) had sixth period with me. When she walked in, I got a better look at her body. Her body was an athletic yet curvy one. She had milkshake colored skin, very perky breasts, and a tight athletic ass. She was very cute too. Of course, what drew me to her was her smile, but for some reason, I wanted to touch her soft cheeks as I kissed her pouty pink lips. Just looking at her turned me on. I sat in the middle of the classroom when that school year started. She sat to the back. As I got more familiar with the class and surroundings, I found my place in the class.

The second week of school was Open House. I didn’t go. Only parents could. So, naturally, I handed my class schedule to my dad and he went. After he came back, he said to me:

“You know one of our neighbors’ kids are in one of your classes?”

He went on to say her name. I said,

“Yeah. Cecily. She’s a cheerleader.”

I was mildly astonished then. How did I not notice that?

The rest of the year was ironically, me not-so-secretly admiring her.