“Was he looking at her?” she wonders as she laughs. After all, she did spend a few extra minutes with the mirror today.
Changed her hair; changed her clothes; her lip gloss from April showers to Scent of May.
“Who cared if he looked at her?” she thought again, brushing her hair back, turning in her seat, away from him.
She knew her legs showed off to perfection in this particular position.
“Did he just smile at me?” a pretty blush spreads at that thought and she shifts again.
Her face now in full view, if he wished to look her way.
“Oh God! He’s laughing at me!” red deepens in her cheeks and colors her neck. She snaps her mouth closed and wishes for the floor to open.
It could swallow her up; put her out of her misery.
“Oh! He’s not laughing…but, he’s not looking either,” her face wilts and her hair hangs limp. She feels disgusted with her plainness, her lack of “oomph!”
Again, she wishes for the earth to open its merciful jaws and swallow her in.
“Maybe, if I was like her…” she glances shyly at her friend who had more than filled out her dress. Her loud colors and her vivid personality.
She shrinks like a daisy beside a rose, invisible, immaterial, shrouded in ignominy.
“I did try, though…” she glances down at herself, what she thinks is a pitiful excuse for a self and wonders why she even tried.
Tears fill her eyes, but stay unshed, but also, undried.
“As if he would ever look at me…” she feels disgusted, stupid, like a little kid who jumped off the roof
because he thought he could fly.
“Don’t shoot for the stars, stupid…” she tells herself, orders herself, commands herself, requests herself,
and the traitorous heart which seemed to have moved out of her chest on to her sleeve.
“Come on, then, move on. Aren’t there more fish in the sea?” she bolsters her heart and picks up the pieces, unstuck as they were.
She puts them aside to have a good cry with, later, in her bed that night and joins in the laughter surrounding her.
“She looked at me, didn’t she?” he glances over covertly, hoping to catch her eye.
“She does like me, doesn’t she?” he stares at the back of her head, now walking away from him
hair swishing, hips swaying, with a flick of her head as she chances a single look back.
“Should I ask her out? What if she says no?” a step ahead, a step backward, he paces unnoticed by his friends
in an agony of the unknown, of a jumper about to take the leap off a cliff.
“Maybe next time…” he deflates as she disappears round the corner, head bowing, shoulders slouching.
He turns away as a friend calls, determined to put her behind him and yet, seeing her face in every reflection.
“Umm…excuse me?” she taps his shoulder, heart pounding in her breast, blood filling in her cheeks; breath caught in her chest.
She hoped she hadn’t swallowed her voice along with the knot of nervousness in her throat.
“It’s her! It’s her! It’s her!” his brain seemed stuck on repeat, as his feet turned to lead and knees to jelly.
He wanted to lean over and retch out the ball of anxiety lodged in his belly.
“C-can I borrow your book? I see- I mis- I lost mine,” she blushed at her stutter and resisted the urge to disappear.
She stood straight, looked him in the eye, hoped he didn’t think that she was out of her mind.
“Will you go out with me?”
Did he say that out loud? He did say that out loud! His brain went into overdrive, cursing himself, swearing at his stupidity.
He could feel his palms sweating, the jelly spreading from his knees, taking over the control of his feet.
Did he just ask me out? He did just ask me out! What should I say? Oh dear! He’s looking at me. He’s waiting for an answer!
I want to agree. How do people agree with each other? Should I say I do? But, that’ll freak him out! What’s the word to say yes? How do people say yes?”
Why isn’t she saying anything? Did I freak her out? Of course, I freaked her out. You idiot!
She’s taking time to let me down. How mean of her!
To leave me hanging like this! To let me wallow in this agony! I don’t like her at all! She’s amazing. I love her.”
Say yes! Say yes! Say yes! Her thoughts running wild in the silence stretching between them
“She said yes. I knew this would happen…” he took a step back, dejected, certain he had been denied, that yes meant no…
“Yes, I’ll go out with you.”
Then, for the first time, she took his hand, shyly
and he took hers, hesitantly…
“Yes…How silly I was…” and she smiled at the boy who liked her back.