He laughs, the sound bouncing off the vaulted ceiling of the entryway with booming echos. So loud. Oops. He shuts his mouth firmly and grins apologetically, awkwardly. The girl across the doorway smiles, nervous hands twitching her skirt back and forth.
"Be back by curfew," says her father.
"Be safe," says her mother.
The boy nods and shakes hands with both of them. His palms are clammy and his heart pounds but he tries to be firm and confident. The father winces. Too confident. He lets go quickly and smiles, trying too make it apologetic and not too bright. The father smiles back. Thank God.
The girl opens the door and they walk down the sidwalk, her shoes click clicking, his a muffled thump step, thump step, thump step.
The silence is long and uneasy, both of them grinning like that can make up for the missing words.
"Do you like cotton candy?" "I've never been on a roller coaster." Their words cover each other.
More silence.
"It's all right, you can, go ahead."
"No, you. What about roller coasters?"
Hesitation stretches long as he turns at the light.
"We should go on one."
"Okay."
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hey.