i'm not holding my breath

i've seen him here before. he's a volunteer. i hold my breath. he's one of the few men in the library that aren't over sixty years old. i think of ways to talk to him. my intentions are for more than a friendly chat though. there are a string of conversation starters racing through my brain. do you go to desoto high school? do you have a girlfriend? when's the last time you kissed someone? would you make out with me? i get nervous. i just stare. these are harmless thoughts. i shelve books to get my mind off things.

i can't help the ache. april 21st was a long time ago.

i'm relieved when i see him leave. i can relax without the distraction.

then he's in the R's. straightening my books. here's my chance.

me: they gave you the fun job, eh?
him: yeah. (chuckle)
me: do you go to desoto high school?
him: duncanville.
me: oh. when do you start school?
him: august 18th or something.
me: oh. i was just curious.

he walks off.

sigh of relief. i was really afraid that would have turned into a sexual harrassment lawsuit.
 
¶ 9:23 PM |