Short Stories

Conditioner (Apply)

Sit in physics class, and ruminate over whether the teacher makes a conscious effort to be this boring. Welcome the diversion when a folded piece of paper pops over your shoulder and onto the desk in front of you.

Look around in an attempt to figure out where it came from. When you've looked both ways, and start to check back, the girl behind you gives herself away with a giggle.

Look up into the most beautiful face you've seen in nearly three years of high school. Make a mental note to pick your jaw up off the floor. Raise an eyebrow and she smiles, biting her lip, then gives a half-nod, green eyes flashing. Half-smile as you turn back to the note.

It's quite neatly folded into a square. Carefully undo the folds, revealing two lines of blue ink. The handwriting is so neat it could be typeface.

"Hey, you're on the football team right?" the paper asks. "You know Jimmy Pon?"

Respond, "Yeah, I know Jimmy. He's the skinny guy who brings the stereo to weightlifting."

Your handwriting looks like chickenscratch next to hers. Fold the note up along the creases, and wait for the teacher to turn around before passing it back.

Try and make some effort to take notes so it doesn't look like you're waiting for hers. A gentle tap on the shoulder gets your attention. Wait for a good moment, then reach across your body and take the note, casually brushing fingertips.

"HAHAHA," it begins. Imagine the peals of her laughter. "He's mad scrawny. Good thing he goes. Oh, how do I get one of those sweaters?"

Smile to yourself as you compose the answer. "You gotta play football for four years =)" Damn, her writing is nice. Flip the note back over your shoulder. It comes back pretty quick.

"Guess that's out. =( Can I have yours?" the note asks. Ponder a response quickly before jotting down, "I don't think we can just give 'em to anyone." And passing it back once again.

The note comes back to you in a low arc over your shoulder. It bounces twice on the desk, almost sliding off before you get a hand on it. Look back sharply in facetious scolding, and her hands cover her mouth in mock fear, eyes pleading, and it's so cute your face fades into a smile. Mouthe, "It's ok," before facing forward.

Open and read the note. Register surprise at the new text.

"I guess we'll have to go out then. That way you can give me the sweater and not feel bad. =)"

Do a mini-double take, then turn and shoot an inquistive look, complete with raised eyebrow. She smiles devilishly and shrugs.

"Why not?" she mouthes.

At this point, forget about selling your soul, because you would gladly donate it to the devil if she told you to. Turn away and scribble, "All right. I'll keep the two weeks before I get it open so it can seem for real."

Toss the note back and turn around just before it makes the return trip. "Deal. =) As long as we have a trial period now." Wish that she wasn't joking around.

This becomes quite the running joke. Start acting the part — hanging out in school; getting physically flirty and such. Realize you're always touching, even when you're just talking, and start to think that maybe it's not a joke.