Elena could not explain what possessed her to look up at that very moment. Whether the frustration bubbling up inside of her from composers block, or the fact that she needed to severely remove her school jacket in this heat. 

Deciding ultimately that both were true, she let her papers fall to the bleachers with a loud thunk, letting her pencil land in the bars of music looking back at her and began to unbutton the blazer that was causing her to sweat.

She stole a glance upward, knowing full well why she couldn't write any meaningful music. He hadn't shown up yet. As she shrugged off the blazer, laying it neatly next to her, she thrust up her sleeves and watched in a slight trance as he jogged onto the field. The name "Rivers" worn and dirty in the practice jersey he wore.

Yes, Samson Rivers of the football team had caught Elena's eye the year before at the bonfire. But, she'd lacked the backbone to ever approach him, feeling like all of her bones turned to jello when he was near. 

A strong breeze broke her from her trance, her pencil rolling to the ground and causing the papers of her work in progress to fly with it down the bleachers. "Oh no..." she mouthed the words, as if watching it happen to someone else, in third person like an out-of-body experience.

Before she realized it, she was chasing down the bleachers after her papers - trying to snatch them out of the air at every opportunity and failing. It was not until she started picking the sheets of music off of the grass that she realized she was on the field and had a portion of the football team staring awkwardly at her; knees in the ground, skirt hiked up at around mid thigh and her shirt disheveled around her torso. She looked up, blushing scarlet from embarrassment and trying desperately to hide behind the strands of hair escaping from her once tidy ponytail. "S-sorry"