Standing Still

Chapter 12: Small Diners Work Wonders on Big Problems

"That looks great," Dylan said, peering over my shoulder. I caught his eye and stood up straight, pushing the hair out of my face.

"Oh, thanks. Are you sure it looks alright? Like, it's not too small or anything?"

He glanced down at the poster on the picnic table in front of me. He looked back at me, smiled, and replied, "Nope, that looks perfect."

I blushed and bit my lip, glancing back down and picking up the glue bottle that had fallen over on it's side. He said, "Keep up the great work," squeezed my shoulder, and walked back to his table to where two other boys sat. They were all around the same height, which was probably about six feet, and the other two boys had darker hair. Besides that, they looked relatively alike (minus the fact that Dylan was much, much cuter) and would've easily blended together in a crowd.

The girl that sat to my right had red hair and mounds of freckles that were contrasted by her blue-framed glasses. She was quiet and kept to herself, and every once in a while she would exchange flirty glances with the boy to Dylan's right, who was more than happy to reciprocate. "These are my friends," Dylan had told me when school ended for the day and I met him in the picnic area outside. Jill - the redheaded girl - had introduced herself and offered to sit next to me. I'd been there for about twenty minutes so far, and there was one thing I noted that was rather uncommon: they were all extremely polite and calm. The boys weren't shoving one another or calling out embarrassing nicknames, but they sat and discussed ideas and exchanged funny, lighthearted jokes.

I didn't say this aloud, but I thought to myself that this was nice, calm, and relaxing, and I could easily see myself fitting into this sort of atmosphere with these sorts of people. I sat back down and smiled to myself, then went back to writing my bold-lettered posters.

I kept sneaking glances at Dylan, who somehow managed to look even more attractive when he was focusing. He even glanced back and smiled a couple times, which would have made me feel embarrassed, except for the fact that he smiled and glanced back. I couldn't believe it: here I was, sitting five feet away from the love of my whole entire elementary, middle school, and high school life, and he was smiling at me, talking to me, and frequently popping over to 'see how things are going.' Either he wanted to be around me, or he just had very little faith in my poster-making abilities.

Oh. On the other hand, maybe I was doing this wrong.

Before I could start to panic, though, my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out. An email.

From:HotShotWilder@yahoo.com

You done yet?

I emailed back.

Sent From: PeanutbutterLibraryCard97@gmail.com

Half an hour. Also, why are we emailing? I heard of this really cool new thing called 'texting' that's supposed to save time and be more convenient. You know me, always up to date on the latest fads, because I'm just cool like that.

From: HotShotWilder@yahoo.com

Have no money for phone bill. Email uses less data. I'm poor. Also, hungry. (Lethal combination) Hurry up!

Sent From: PeanutButterLibraryCard97@gmail.com

See you in half an hour, Wilder.

From: HotShotWilder@yahoo.com

See ya. ;)

I slid my phone back into my pocket, looking away awkwardly after discovering that Jill's eyes were fixed on me. Or, more specifically, my phone. She didn't seem very bashful about it, either.