I slid onto the
bench next to the cute blond boy and peered down at his book. He was so
absorbed in its contents he didn’t seem to notice. I gave him a few seconds
before clearing my throat. When that didn’t work, I elbowed him lightly.
“Hey.”
He looked up, his
forehead creasing ever so slightly in a frown. “Yes?”
“I’m Gwen. What’re you reading?”
“I’m Gwen. What’re you reading?”
“It’s a biography.
On Chester A. Arthur?” He made it a question and I got the feeling he wasn’t
sure I’d know who our twenty-first president had been.
“Is it any good?”
The boy’s brow
furrowed a little deeper and I felt a nervous twinge in his emotions. It made
me smile, not because I was happy he was uncomfortable but because we were in
high school. I had been able to feel the emotions of others for as long as I
could remember and his were a welcome respite from the torrential outpouring of
feelings from everyone else our age.
“It… is. Did you
need it?”
“I don’t think so.
What’s your name? I already told you mine.”
“Oh.” He
straightened, embarrassment joining the confusion as he folded the book closed
over his index finger and reached his right hand over toward me. “I’m Stanley.”
I snorted as I
shook his hand, expecting him to give me the real answer. When I dropped his
hand and he just continued to watch me and wonder, I jolted.
“Oh that’s really
your name,” I said. He looked marginally hurt, though I hadn’t meant it rudely.
Squinting as if I was considering great art, I leaned away, pursed my lips. “Yeah,
you look like a Stanley. I like your vest.”
I reached out and
rubbed his shoulder quickly to feel the fabric. He frowned, sighed and I got the feeling I wasn’t making the
impression I meant to. Unfortunately, that wasn’t uncommon for me.
“No, I really do.
It looks good on you. It looks handmade, too.”
Stan’s emotions shifted slightly, a wriggle of pride sneaking in. “My grandmother made it.”
Stan’s emotions shifted slightly, a wriggle of pride sneaking in. “My grandmother made it.”
“It’s real soft.”
I grinned, leaning back against the wall of the library. “So what’ve you
learned about Chester?”
Stan watched me
silently for a few seconds before a smile crept up on his lips, taking them by
surprise.
“You really want to know?”
“I wanna hang here with you for awhile. I figure I might as well learn something while I do.”
“I wanna hang here with you for awhile. I figure I might as well learn something while I do.”
Stan’s cheeks went
pink and, while I wouldn’t have thought it possible, his spine went even
straighter. He was quiet for a few moments before his face lit up with
flustered joy. Sitting this close, it felt like being overtaken by purring
tribbles. I snorted out a giggle and we stared awkwardly at each other for a few
moments before he started telling me about the book.
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