What Really Counts :: essays research papers

Some stories start out belatedly. Some start quickly. Some, unfortunately never start at all. It was the latter that was slowly becoming the bane or, as he saw it, the description -- of Morgan Dubois existence. Granted, his story was slow in forming not because of lack of effort or desire on his own part, but fizzled time and time again due to an enormous lack of cooperation from the outside world. The outside world, of course, being girls. Standing a modest sixer feet, two inches in height and tipping the scales at one hundred and eighty-five pounds, Morgan Debois wasnt that demanding of attention, and his brown hair and hazel eyes maddeningly typical, in his eyes -- did zip fastener to change that, much to his chagrin. Though not unattractive, Morgan never fancied himself good-looking, and though he wasnt a heartthrob, girls never seemed to notice him, either. Unlike many some other teenage boys, though, he found little solace on the athletic fields or courts of the high sch ool scene. He wasnt gifted in any real sense of the word, he thought. Made and played on the basketball team but never started, and with a few minor exceptions and headlines from a sectional championship relief pitching performance his junior year, the same went for football and baseball game. Even Morgan himself didnt take much from his athletic prowess, if one could call in it that when youre a kid of above-average height in a school population numbering barely 170 if all the Jarrett kids were there, the running joke was you doomed sure better play something, or youre a queer. You were weak. Though hed willingly concede the fact that he was nondescript and perhaps all but invisible to the girls he fancied, Morgan Dubois was no queer. He wasnt weak. And though the thought never crossed his mind, for fear of the attention he sometimes so desperately craved, Morgan Dubois damn sure wouldnt tolerate you thinking he was. And that declaration, though unmade as of yet, is where Mor gans story, and ours, truly begins.Ive got to mark you, I saw it coming.***Solly Jarrett, on the other hand, was. He was weak. And hed be the first one to admit it. The youngest by six minutes his parallel sister Holly nearly edged him out for the honors of eight children, Solly was raised in a household that had seen enough achievements, both scholastic and athletic, that he wasnt sledding to get much more than a good luck from Mom or Dad whenever he got dropped off at school or the baseball field.