’ ‘Oh, I, uh.’ I stutter. ‘So, I was thinking, maybe you might want to hang out later?’ He asks. Ohmygod! What do I say? ‘Okay.’ ‘Grea.... So, I’ll see you later?’ He smiles kindly. ‘Do you, maybe, wanna sit with us at lunch?’ I look down. ‘Sure,’ He goes back to writing on his worksheet. I look at my paper, and drift off into tingling, smiling, welcoming fantasy. Well, come on, I’m eighteen. I should be allowed these few fantasies. ~ ‘Come on!’ He leads me down the path. ‘Where are we going?’ I. I looked at her closely as she passed by me. She was pretty, not model-pretty, but healthy, girl-next-door pretty-somewhere beneath all her makeup. I hadn't really noticed the makeup before, very dark lipstick, and heavy eyeshadow and eyebrow liner. She didn't need all that makeup, and it seemed inconsistent, made her look older than she probably was, late twenties, I'd guess, a few years younger than I am. She looked lithe, with a figure like a ballerina, almost no chest, long, solid legs, and. More

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