“Have any of your friends ever told you that you could do better?”
She looked up from the book she was reading, shifted her weight on the park bench and looked at him, gave him a half-smile, then looked down at her shoes.
“So they have then.”
“Why? What does it matter?”
“Curious, I guess.”
She looked him in the eye and then fixed his hair a bit in the front.
“It doesn’t matter. I like you.” She smiled her biggest, friendliest smile.
“You know…” she smiled again, a little embarrassed.
“It’s just…” he started.
She gave him a look, waiting, urging him to finish his thought.
“You’re so beautiful, and let’s face it, I’m average on a good day.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. You’re just silly.”
He looked at her, a little hurt.
“Oh come on! I’ve had a crush on you since I read your first short story. And then the way you were shaking a little when you asked me on that first date…adorable!”
“You said you couldn’t tell!”
A small laugh escaped her, but then hid her mouth behind her hand. He relaxed a bit.
She playfully shoved him and he shoved her back. Then she stopped and looked at him, her smile fading.
“Come here.” She waved him closer to her.
“No, HERE!” He inched a bit closer, and she gave him a look, forcing him to scoot right up alongside of her.
“I like you,” she said, gently resting her head on his shoulder. She smiled again.
“I think I could do better,” he said with a sly smile on his face.