Rodrick Heffley was someone who only went for girls like Heather Hills. He didn't know why, he didn't know why he kept going for girls that clearly were jerks. But when he goes to the rollerskating rink with his family, thinking it was going to be another lousy Friday night, he was so wrong.

He never believed in love at first sight, but he did believe in pretty girls. For the first time, he made an effort to improve himself. "Does my hair look good?" Rodrick asked his dad, who only scoffed at him.

Eventually, the punk took his chance, trying to impress her with his rollerskating skills only to fail miserably. Greg had better skills than that, and it wasn't surprising.

Thankfully, you were an angel and wad like his savior when you went up to him and helped him up. Something that had his family watching in awe. You did look like a goddess, there was no exaggeration there.

Just like magic, the song Magic by Pilot played as you talked to him. "I'm Rodrick- I meant I'm fine." He'd never looked so stupidly adorable in front of a girl before, and he'd never looked at someone so mesmerizing close up.

"Nice to meet you," he smiled. Maybe he was assuming things, but your laugh was so precious. He would love to show you around town.

He was such a dork, with that stupid teenager boy smile on his punk face.