“Hey! Give that back! It doesn’t belong to you”
“I dunno Finkles…” He said, putting the phone above his head and out of my reach, “I mean, you haven’t been very nice to me, and I’m thinking I should just go put it back where I found it.”
Like an idiot, I jumped for my phone, desperate to see who had texted me and hoping beyond all reason that it was him, asking me to meet him for lunch or something.
“Come on little Finkles, jump! Jump!” Warren said bouncing the phone up and down so that it was always just a little beyond my fingertips.
“Just give it back to her already” Deanna snapped, obviously annoyed that he had stopped focusing on her.
“Alright, alright” Warren said, unruffled, “but first, Finkles has to tell me who her secret admirer is.”
My heart literally skipped I beat. I swear, if you had put a stethoscope to my chest at that moment you would have heard the ventricles and atria freezing up for half a second and my whole body time out.
“What are you talking about?”
“'Hey! Now you have my number. I’ll text you tonight after I figure out the plans. Thanks. BF.'” Warren read off the glowing screen of my phone.
Let me be very clear here, no greater text has been written in the history of humanity. Sure, it wasn’t poetic or anything, I’m sure Shakespeare probably coulda said it better if they had had cellphones back then, but still, he had texted me, a text from him to me existed, and that was all I really needed to let my imagination run wild.
There we were, in the empty theatre, standing beside the ghost light, me laughing about something hilarious that he just said, him smiling with his green eyes sparkling in the dim light. A piece of my hair gets caught in my lipgloss as I laugh, and he leans down to put it back into place. In that instant, our eyes lock, and then he is kissing me, and not some sort of PG peck that happens at the end of a kid’s movie, I’m talking a PG-13 full make-out kiss, the kind of kiss that legends are made of.
“Oh Finkles, you still with us?”
I broke out of my fabulous daydream to Warren waving a hand in front of my face. Quickly, I composed myself, rubbing my lips together to try and distract from the fact that they had unintentionally began to pucker as I thought about my first kiss.
“So who is this BF guy? You’re boyfriend?!” Warren cooed, making kissing sounds like he was some five year old who has just watched two people kissing on TV or something and feels the need to mock it so that nobody knows he secretly wishes he could try it.
“None of your business Warren” I said, grabbing my phone from him and turning away to hide the smile.
“Finkles has a boyfriend. Finkles has a boyfriend” Warren chanted in classic middle-school boy fashion, dancing around like some sort of giant clown.
Rolling my eyes at his childishness, I gestured to Deanna to leave. Even though she smiled and nodded, I could tell by the way she brushed past me, forcing me to follow her to our lunch spot, that she was not happy with the reaction I had gotten out of Warren.
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