class: independent study
summary: did 10 sections with room for two lines on each by Word measurements.
notes: narrator is androngynous
I’ve never been a fan of pink. It’s too bright, wants too much attention, clutches at the pant legs of others and screams “Look at me, I’m feminine. Take notice.”
Pink is the same color worn by the girls with superiority complexes who sneer and grin and play coy when guilty. When I walk by, their hands cup their friends’ ears. I notice.
But it isn’t until I catch a girl in the parking lot holding a deep pink umbrella do I find some reason to appreciate it. Maybe it’s more subdued. Maybe it’s the girl.
She seems kind of innocent, sort of genuine. Probably a little spacey. It looks like she’s daydreaming when she walks to her car while the other people think about work.
I start to notice her more after that. Apparently, we pass each other in the halls a few times every day. She laughs a lot, smiles a lot, but I still haven’t heard her talk.
Today, she sat next to me in the library. When I glanced over at her as she sat down, I caught her by surprise. She gave me a polite smile and her eyes averted.
Her hair was curled. Not obnoxiously so, but it framed her face and barely touched her shoulders. I wanted to ask her what the occasion is, why she decided to do this today.
Or maybe I wanted to twist one of the curls around my finger like it was an iron, see if it bounced back once I let go.
Or maybe I wanted to take a fistful of her hair, pull her towards me, and kiss her like we’d known each other’s bodies for years.
She typed at her computer, I typed at mine, and nothing else happened. It’s not until after I left did I realize that I was the only one there at the library.
And she sat by me.