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Rated: ASR · Chapter · Relationship · #2135436
My first attempt. A short story about a first meeting
“Hello,” I said, thinking it was as good a way as any to introduce myself to one of the prettiest girls i’d ever met. It had taken me over a year, since I had first seen her to work up the nerve to finally introduce myself. I had played this moment over and over in my head, making sure to memorize her schedule so I could choose the most romantic spot on the campus, not that there really was any, and not that she knew I was trying to be romantic. She probably thought I was just another stupid boy, the lesser, more underdeveloped species. But, I did have to attempt meeting her, to take a slight risk, to change up my ever boring, average life.
“Oh, hey” she said, casually, “What brings you to my tiny corner of the universe?”
“Oh, umm I just wanted to say that I liked your T-shirt?” I replied nervously, blanking on my prepared answer to questions like this.
“Oh?” she asked, her voice becoming slightly higher, with a slight tinge of excitement, “You’re into Doctor Who?”
“Umm, yeah I am” I replied, in actuality having no idea what on earth Doctor Who was, just trying to connect with this incredible human specimen.
“Wow,” she said, slightly surprised, slightly impressed, her eyebrows raising just a tad. I could actually see her eyes get brighter and happier. I knew the feeling. That amazing moment when you met someone who shared the same interest as you, allowing you to feel a little less alone in this vast, unpredictable world. “So,” she continued, “What’s your favorite part of the show so far?”
“Well,” I started uncertainly “I certainly like that one girl, what’s her name? The one with the umm brown hair?” I guessed, thinking that there was probably some prominent female character with brown hair on the whole of the show.
“Oh, you mean Clara?” She queried.
“Right, her. I like her personality.” I said, relieved that I’d satisfied the question and not made too much of a fool of myself. She nibbled thoughtfully at the remainder of the turkey and cheese sandwich she’d been eating since I’d walked over to her what seemed ages ago.
“That’s nice, though I much prefer Donna. She’s much spunkier, as you probably already know.” I heard a loud electronic bell tone ring three times behind me, for once thankful for lunch to be over, and to not embarrass myself even more.
“Here,” she said, handing me a napkin, “maybe we can hang this weekend? Get to know each other a bit more?”
“Uh, sure” I stammered, having never received a girl’s phone number, let alone a cool girl like this one. We both said goodbye, and walked away. I was so happy I felt I would burst. I couldn’t wait to tell my friends, and follow up on making plans for this weekend. I couldn’t wait to actually hang out with someone who first of all wasn’t a boy, and second of all, was way higher in the school’s hierarchy than me.
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