There I was, sprawled on the gymnasium floor with my entire class crowded around me. Each voice competed to dominate my attention, tones ranging from genuine concern to downright disgust. Normally my face would have been as red as the lines marking the basketball court, but instead of being embarrassed, I was busy having a life altering epiphany. The realization had hit me just after the Dodgeball.

Part of me knows I fell in love with him at first sight. I never thought falling in love with a stranger was possible, but there had been no mistaking that feeling. His family had just moved from New York City, which, in a small town with a population under 2,000, is a big deal. I couldn't have avoided him if I tried – not that I wanted to.

He was over three inches taller than my five-foot-seven, with dark sable coloured hair and the most extraordinary eyes I had ever seen. Emerald green, spiked with punches of gold and grey. When he turned those eyes on me, I felt speechless and clumsy for the first time in my life. How did I look to him? Was I dull, with my mousy brown hair and brown eyes? He was beautiful, exotic. He was a God.

I did my best to get to know him, get closer. He always told me what a great friend I was. Friend! That broke my heart when he said that, and I would silently scream to myself "I don't want to be friends!" I wanted to be closer still, be intimate, but I never told him.

I never told him until two years later, our final year in high school. I was going to Harvard; he had gotten a basketball scholarship to Berkley. We promised to keep in touch, but we both knew we wouldn't. No one ever does.

So, you see, I had to tell him. I told him and he hit me with a Dodgeball. Maybe that's what he thought he had to do.

We never spoke again after that incident. Not that I didn't try, I had to try – I loved him. But he never even returned my calls. That's when I realized something is wrong with me: Boys aren't supposed to love other boys. Or atleast that's what he hit me with, just before the Dodgeball.

© Kelsey Sanderson 2004