I slowly slid down to the floor. Now i was sitting with my knees bent slightly and my elbows resting on top of them. In my hands I clutched my phone-the phone that had brought me such bad news. I knew everything I was doing was wrong. I knew I shouldn't be using her. But I am. I admit-I am using Katrina to get to her friend and tennis doubles partner Erin. But why am I doing this. I don't even know Erin. I've only ever seen her while she's playing tennis. It just seems like when she plays, she's in her zone. She's entered an inpenetrable level of satisfaction. The way she played proved that it was her true passion; that she lived to slam that small neon colored ball into her competitors court. When she played, even just hitting against a wall, she gave it everything she had. She never went easy on anyone-herself and her friends included. And she seems like the kind of person who doesn't care. She couldn't care less if guys would be more attracted to her if she gave up tennis for volleyball. At least that's what I first thought...but when I saw her a few minutes ago I changed my mind about that. She had worn makeup to practice. For the first time I saw her in an outfit where the shorts matched the shirt perfectly. They looked almost tailored to fit her body and showed more cleavage than excersize clothes should. The colors of her clothes even matched the colors of the bobby pins she had expertly positioned in her hair-purple and blue. When I looked down and saw her purple and blue zebra striped socks, I knew that she cared. She had clearly dressed to impress. But who was she impressing? Had she seen me before? Was I the person who had changed this girl from mismatched socks to hair pins that matched to shoe laces? Was all of this my fault? But no matter what, I don't care. There's something about her that made me do a double take when she first stepped onto that court, wearing a big t-shirt-the kind you get from group activities that are always about three sizes too big-and long black shirts. Her hair was frizzy, and there were some loose strands hanging out of her ponytail. I could also see that on one foot she had a bright green sock with red and white candy canes on it, while her other sock was stripes in every color of the rainbow. That first time I saw her she wasn't as fashionable, wasn't showing as much skin, and wasn't wearing the flattering clothes, yet I'd like to know that first person better. I just can't answer that one simple question that keeps returning to my mind-why? Why do I want to get to know her so much? Why?