a PH short story

     The time: a quarter past twelve, or something like that. The place: in the school quad, under the alder. The issue:

     I think a boy just gave me the most beautiful smile in the world.

     "Hi," he says, and his perfect teeth flash across a soft copper-hued face. A miniature fedora perches on his head, which is a bit of a shame since he has such nice black hair cropped close. But it really matches the bleached side-bangs and his tiny earrings. And his eyes, his brilliant green jewels of a pair of eyes staring deep into me like our souls were entertwining...

     My heart quails. Good Lord, I need to stop staring. It's not polite.

     "Need help with that?" he says casually, the light ripples in his voice strumming harmony in my ears.

     I shake myself to awareness and look down at the papers flapping on the floor, where they had fallen after I fumbled my heavy binder trying to put it in my locker.

     "I'm, no I'm," I start to say, but he's already there, picking up after my mess. Even his hands are beautiful.

     Oh, no, the Blush is coming. I can feel it welling up in my head, ready to spill red blossoms all over my face...

     And it's there. My Blush. Hello, it's been a while.

     "I can do it," I mumble, and bend down to help. "I'm sorry."

     "No, it's no problem," he says quickly, easily. He laughs. "To be honest, I just wanted to talk to you. I've been wanting to for a while."

     I panic inside. Is this really happening? I think it is. But there's no way anyone would want to talk to me, right? Is he actually being mean and lying to me? I can't tell, I can't tell, he's too sweet to give me room to think.

     "My name is Henry, but everyone just calls me Ree."

     I clutch my binder close to my chest. "H-hi, Ree," I breathe.

     He's finished gathering the papers, but his hands keep shuffling them nervously. "I, uh--oh man, this is scary."

     I don't know what to say. Why do I have to be meet him in such a cliche moment? I wish I could be the kind of heroine who dominates all the guys, tough and strong. But I guess I just...can't do it.

     Oh, no, not the Tears, Anything but those.

     "So uh, what's your name?"

     "Marcelle," I whisper.

     "Marcelle?"

     I nod, wondering if the binder is big enough to hide my blushing face.

     He smiles again, and something scary roars up inside me when I see it. I look at my shoes.

     "Hi Marcelle," he almost sings. "I know it's kind of out of the blue, but I think you're beautiful and I really, really like you. Want to be friends?"