I Love Your Friends, They're All So Arty

Eating Babybel at lunch today, I noticed that save for Jackie and Susan, all the names of all the girls who regularly sit at our table begin with A. Aditi, Alison, Adrienne, Ashley, Anusha, Annie, and Anna. Hmm.

I finish eating, snitch curly fries from Conner, try to stop Shots from doing some very nerdy dancing, and watch French Boy on the other side of the windows. Aditi offers to wander outside with me to look at him. We do so, then wander back in, buy Aditi a replacement heart-rate monitor strap, and stroll back to the cafeteria.

This whole while, and every day this week, at the table horizontally over from ours, there's a been a trio of punkish juniors (probably). The first, smooth-faced with slick, raven hair; another with long, yellow hair and zits; the third with short blonde hair, flighty eyes, and a slim, apprehensive, somehow European apperance. Number one's wearing a tight black emo sweater a smidgen short in the sleeves; two's got on a t-shirt; and number three's wearing somewhat skinny jeans, a dark jade button-up shirt, a blue-and-white striped necktie, red-orange Chuck Taylors, and a pink belt.

The inner future designer occupies herself idly pondering. Would dark plaid pants have been a better choice? Is the tie too short? Are Chucks a cliché now? Has he got on an appropriate color of socks?

The hopeless romantic is wishing her much-mended heart out that she was the sort of person who could get up, walk across the aisle, and tell him just how cool he looks.

When Aditi asks if I'll come along to get her heart-rate strap, I tell her I'll do it if she comes along to support me while I compliment pink-belt guy. I want her there, but mostly I want to make myself do it.

So I do. I crouch down next to his seat on the end so I'm looking up at him, Aditi standing behind me, holding her new strap. I probably utter the word "awesome" three times in four sentences. Raven guy, seated just beyond my object of attention, is giving me a strange look. Said object is watching me with an attitude suggesting he's been rather knocked off his feet, but found it not unpleasent. "...Thanks."

As Aditi and I walk off laughing, I can see pink-belt boy slapping high-fives with his grinning friends. Aditi offers a high-five for me and I feel like I've done a good job smiling today.