At exactly 1155 the ever growing group of girls tried to look nonchalant from their spot on the hallway floor outside the small gymnasium. He always went past at this time and it was important to get a good spot for maximum viewing pleasure, too close and he may not see you, and too far from the door, he would have looked away in embarrassment. Being the inaugural member of the “Deadly Dimples Fan Club” she knew the perfect spot to witness all of his sweaty, shy perfection as he strode past in just his gym shorts after the daily basketball intramural match.
Would today be the day he smiled at her again? The first time was like a drug and she needed her dose of dimples, and now so did the other admirers. Some liked him for his broad shoulders, some for his soft brown eyes, others for his shiny hair, but she was a sucker for the smile and the way he bounced on the balls of his feet when he went past, almost like a dancer. What was the most appealing was the fact he did not seem to realize how magnificent he was and how many crushes he endeared.
How she wished she never shared the secret of his shirtless trek to the locker rooms with the other grade 10 girls, they normally did not come into the senior wing. She could only hope he would remember her from the soccer field, where he practiced next to her own scrimmages.
The girls were suddenly silent, signifying his presence, so she sat up straight and tried her best to look uninterested and yet available. He was with a team mate and seemed deep in conversation but just as he was passing he met her eyes. She smiled and received one in return, almost stopping her heart. She felt her cheeks burning, like she was sitting in front of a fireplace.
30 years later she was sitting in front of a fireplace reliving the warmth of the moment she met her husband. Those dimples were still deadly, as was the smile, but the heat was now more like a long burning ember.