|Even as I stand on your porch, knuckles poised at the door, I can’t believe I’m here, that I even asked you out on Friday afternoon in front of the school. I thought Brent was your knight in shining armor, you’re out of my league. But you said yes, now it’s Saturday night, and here I am.
I knock and wait. You answer the door, blonde hair framing that perfect face. There’s a smile in your grey-green eyes. I can’t believe this.
You don’t invite me in, you’re ready to go. “Bye, Mom,” you shout over your shoulder. She answers something but I’m not sure what because you pull the door shut quickly behind you and we’re off.
You live only three blocks from the county fairgrounds, and I can see the lights from the midway lighting up the sky over the trees as we walk. I’m moonstruck in the soft August air, I know I am, and I should be careful but I’m not and I know I won’t be.
The night is a kaleidoscope. We end up at the bottle-toss and I’m determined to win you one of the big green stuffed frogs or die trying. You love frogs, I heard you say that to your best friend Clarice in biology one day. I’m blazing away with my best fastball and finally blast through the stacked milk bottles. You’re looking at the big foam dice but I insist you’ve got to have a frog.
I call Sunday afternoon, but your mom says you’re not home. Same story Sunday night. Where would you be on a school night?
I see you Monday morning, walking and laughing in the hall with Clarice. I stop, frozen. Hanging from your belt as you walk bounces a pair of big foam dice.
(Word count: 299)