Episode 46: Scene Two
Allan pulled out his speech communications folder before closing his locker door. Trying to remember if there was any homework to turn in, he grimaced when he realized they were working on their appreciation speeches. It wasn't that he wasn't appreciative, but putting his appreciation on paper wasn't exactly Allan's cup of tea.
On top of that, he was coordinating several end-of-the-year activities for Student Council. Dances, inductions, and other plans were in the works, which kept him working overtime. On top of that, there was spring training for football after school to get the eighth graders ready to enter football on the high school level. Practices often lasted two to even three hours past the last bell. After all, Midway Prep had a reputation to keep up. No one knew that better than Allan himself. Having been to several youth leadership conventions and conferences, he saw the many forms of competition their school faced. He, like many others, was determined to uphold the pride of Midway Prep.
But most of all, and best of all, he had his dear Francesca. Things had been shaky of late, but he was convinced that their relationship would be stronger because of it. His love for her had only grown in the months since Madison's Ball, and Allan was determined to let her know that.
Before Francesca, Allan had an endless parade of groups and teams to be a part of. At the time, he had thought them satisfying and nurturing to him. When he met Francesca, that all changed. He realized that there was more to life than field goals and field committees. Allan found love, and it made all the difference.
Allan walked slowly down the hallway, thinking of all the things Francesca had brought into his life: happiness, fun, spontaneity, open-mindedness, and most of all: peace. The chaos was swept out of the door by Francesca's gentle hand. That was why he cared about her so much. That was why he loved.
Allan was so busy thinking about Francesca that he did not notice the tan-skinned young man rounding the corner in front of him. He practically collided with him before he even realized it.
"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Allan inquired.
"Fine, thank you. I was rushing as usual," the young man's voice, filled with a thick Spanish accent, responded. "Please forgive me."
"Oh, no, no," Allan brushed away the boy's apology. "It's my fault." Taking notice of the unfamiliar face, he said, "I don't believe I've seen you around here. My name's Allan Benton," he offered his hand.
The young man shook it firmly. "Amante. Amante Aldovar."