A Short Story on the Website of |
Two of Millions
Caleb had never before seen hair that
bright. He thought it might be “hot pink.” He thought that
her petite features and smooth complexion were very pretty, even with the
short, hot-pink hair. He wondered what color her hair really was. Maybe bleach blonde, he laughed to
himself. How ironic. Sierra
looked up to see Caleb staring at her. Both were seated at the front of the
city bus in long bench seats directly facing each other across the aisle. She
wiggled nervously and looked down at her book again. When she brought her eyes
up, head still down, he was still staring. She
brought her head up and asked somewhat assertively, “Do you have a problem?” With
some hesitation, searching for the proper words, he stammered, “I was just
admiring your hot-pink hair.” “It’s
actually ‘Fuchsia Brilliánce,’ in case you want to buy a bottle for yourself,”
she shot back. Right away, she realized she had been needlessly sarcastic to
his honest reply. Anyway, what did you
expect when you did this hair? she thought to herself. “No
thanks, I’m fine.” “So,
I guess then you don’t stare at all the girls on the bus?” she asked in a
friendlier voice, partly to atone. “I
try to be more discreet, but I guess my eyes were a little riveted.”
Wanting to talk more, but having nothing clever to say, he asked, “Are you
going far?” “Just
three more stops. I get off at Pacific.” She realized she was giving too much
information to a stranger, but he looked harmless enough and talked easily.” He is pretty cute. “That’s
kind of a rough area. If you like, I could get off, too, and maybe walk you a
ways.” “I
get off and walk there everyday,” she answered. She saw he looked a little
embarrassed at being put off. Oh, there
you go with the sarcastic tone again. “Well,
maybe another day.” That was all he could think to say. Gee, first you stare, and then you try to force yourself on the poor
girl. After
a moment’s thought, she said, “No, I’d prefer it were today. I think I might
like to know you better. My name’s Sierra.” “Your
name is as pretty as your hair. My name’s Caleb McKayde. It’s nice to meet you,
Sierra.” As
the bus pulled up to the Pacific Avenue stop, they got off, both feeling warm
and relaxed inside. |
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