Sarah.
She was adorable. Cute, fun, funny, smart, and we'd been solid friends for ages.

I'd started having... amorous thoughts about Sarah a couple of months earlier. She'd moved schools earlier that year, and I was crushed at the time. But we still saw each other in the park and the like (we were about nine). I was a nerdy child, unathletic, too interested in computers for my own good, utterly indifferent to The Rugby (grounds for execution in New Zealand); there was no way I'd have enough confidence to ask Sarah out.

Then she asked me out. In the park, in the fading sunset. To a school dance. It was a wonderful moment, the object of my adoration opening her heart to me under a fire-tinged sky.

Later, when I told my father that I'd muttered something about the rugby being on and run away, he groaned, and his head made a solid thump on the dinner table.
(Scritty Bakerman., Tue 15 Dec 2009, 7:20, Reply)