Matched | S.R

Spencer

I've adjusted my hair and tie about twenty times. We're meeting at noon in the food court of the mall.
I'm nervous, incredibly so. I have to wipe my sweaty palms on my pants every so often.

What will she think of me? What if I'm not what she's expecting?

I throw my purple scarf on and snap a picture of my chest to send to Luna.

Me: Haven't heard from you yet today. Everything okay? Here's my scarf, just so you know.

She calls me, which sort of worries me. I answer it almost right away.

The girl confesses that she's nervous and that she's afraid I won't like her after seeing what she looks like. I'm feeling the same way, but I don't tell her that. I tell her that I think she's the most beautiful girl in the world already. It's the truth.
In a little over a month I started liking Luna...a lot. She's witty, funny, interesting. I could talk to her for hours and hours on end and not get bored. The recent addition of calling had my head reeling. Hearing her voice and her laugh gave me the 'butterflies' that everyone claims to get in their stomach. Then there was hearing her moans. Her moaning out my name. A sound that replayed itself in my mind whenever I'd thought of her since that phone call the other night.

J.J. asked me about the 'mystery girl' I'd snuck to the bathroom to call, but I didn't tell her anything and asked her to leave it alone. Just like I had with Morgan.
It's not that I don't want them to know about Luna, but I don't want to endure the teasing right now. I don't even know what she looks like. Yet, somehow, I'd had a very risqué conversation with her over text and heard her moan my name over call.

I think she likes me. She laughs at my jokes, she'd listened to me ramble about Doctor Who for nearly twenty minutes over the phone, she'd actually rambled WITH me about Doctor Who.

She also flirts with me non-stop.

I sneak another peek in the mirror before grabbing my bag and heading out to the mall.

My stomach churns as I make my way to the food court. I know that I'll know who she is right away, which is sort of terrifying.

A sea of people crowd the food court. Some are with friends, some are alone.

Straight ahead, in the center booth up against the wall sits a girl.

She's wearing a green shirt with black overalls, one of the straps is undone. She's got old, black Converse high tops on and a black baseball cap. Her dark hair is in a loose bun that pokes out of the back of her hat, a few stray hairs fall out at the base of her neck and near her ears. She's focused on writing something in the notebook in front of her. It sits between a half-eaten muffin and a nearly empty iced coffee.
The girl pulls one of her knees up to her chest and leans her head on it as she works.

It's Luna. It has to be. I have to make sure.

I walk around for a few minutes before walking right past her in her booth. Close enough to touch her. As I pass by, I notice a few smudges of different colored paint on her thigh. If that's not proof enough, the page in front of her is covered in doodles, mostly of flowers. It's Luna. I'm sure of it.

Oh, she's gorgeous. So, so gorgeous.

Part of me wants to sit down next to her, but another part doesn't want the game to end just yet. It'd be cocky of me to just stroll right up to her within minutes of walking in.
I walk around and pass her once more.
Oh, she's good. I don't ever see her look up at me. I wonder how long I can run with this. Maybe I can make her give herself away and pull me into the booth with her.

I pass her by a third, fourth, and fifth time. She's getting increasingly antsy. I know that she knows I know it's her in that booth. She knows I'm teasing her. Still, I don't catch her looking at me.