Explosions

Explosions

He spoke to her in explosions. His words like crazy firecrackers popping around the room. “Wanna go bowling with me?” “Wanna go grocery shopping with me?” She knew very little about this boy except that he mispronounced her name and made strange comments about her paintings. She was always so startled she loudly squeaked back “No!”. One day she waited locked out of a building, freezing. As she stood up to leave who should walk up but him. Her hair freshly cut and her body adorned in a black leather jacket, he looked right at her. His face slipped into a Cheshire cat smile and he purred, “I like your hair”. She stammered an awkward thank you and followed him into the building; they had never been alone together. She began to get out her supplies to begin to paint; the building was so silent. He said nothing, wouldn’t even look at her. She watched him walk into the bathroom and shut the door. Then she waited and waited. Twenty minutes later, he came out.