Thursday, August 2, 2007

Why'd You Have To Be So Cute?

Imogen Heap - Goodnight and Go

For a whole two weeks, while working at Pinky's Funhouse Amusement Park during summer vacation, Anna Ortiz was in love with Justin Bessinger.

His shaggy hair always hung low over his eyes revealing only an obtrusive nose and a line of acne that rimmed his jaw. His classic rock t-shirts were holey and wrinkled, his jeans consistently tattered at the same spot on the knee. His black Chuck Taylors were so worn that his right pinky toe revealed itself through a sliver where fabric and sole didn't quite meet. His fingernails had permanent Doritos stains. He never came to work on time, and never got around to doing any work once he got there. Instead he'd close his eyes and tilt his head back as he sat, arms crossed over his chest, mouthing the words to some nameless Zeppelin song.

The managers warned him about his behavior.

Anna idolized his rebelliousness. She wondered what he wondered as he blew air bubbles through his spit and strummed an air guitar during lunch break.

Sadly the forces of the universe decided to split the two could-be lovers before true romance blossomed. Justin was fired, and forced to leave Pinky's per management's bequest at the end of the day.

Anna steered clear of Justin during his last day, until her glorious moment with him alone, where she'd hoped to tell him of her growing affections.

She slyly sidled up to Justin as he collected his things at 5 p.m.

He spotted her coming. "What up."

"Not much."

"I'm outta here."

"Oh yeah?" Anna feigned ignorance.

"Yeah, this place blows, I'm over it..." his voice trailed off, as if in the midst of some deep important thought. He looked down at his sneakers, then flicked his neck back in a vision of unkept curls to flash a crooked wily smile at Anna.

"Will you miss me?"

"Shut the fuck up," she quipped.

Justin flinched from the sting of her careless words, and for a minute almost proved sincere.

Did he really want to know? Because she wanted to tell him the truth. She would miss him. She was almost sure she could love him.

"Ha, I'm just bullshitting you," he recovered. "Later l-o-s-e-r."

He spit into the sky and winked at Anna as he walked off into the sunset.

In another six months this wouldn't matter, the insignificance of this tiny crack in her heart, this loss of her very first crush.

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