Perfect Girl - Weebly

A guy bumps into me as he rounds the corner. His
shoulder brushes against mine, and we lock gazes for a
moment. Long enough for me to notice his blue eyes and
spiky hair. Celeste sneers at him and we keep walking. He
keeps walking, too. But, a few steps later, I turn and see that
he has turned around, too. One of his friends tugs his sleeve,
but he stares at me and smiles. I grin and blush.
“Come on, Ruthie,” Celeste says.
Another strand of my hair falls softly onto my face.
Tucking it behind my ear, I ask, “You guys hungry?”
Frankie says, “Starved.”
“Me, too.”
“Me, three,” I say.
We step on the escalator up to the food court. It’s early,
not too crowded. There are only two people ahead of us in
the Dippin’ Dots line.
“Low-fat vanilla, please,” I tell the clerk. “Small.”
“I’ll try Rootbeer Float,” says Celeste.
Frankie tries the orange sorbet.
Sitting near the edge of the food court, we prop our feet
up on three chairs and feel the dots melt in our mouths and
slither down our throats.
His hair is the first thing I see. Rising up on the escalator,
the short blond spikes poke up like dune grass. They
become blue eyes, then tan lips, and a white T-shirt over
baggy khaki shorts.
My chest feels hot even as the ice cream cools it down.
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