2 Failed Conversation #1

Ughhhh... It was Tuesday. Nicole HATED Tuesdays. Tuesdays were the days when she had to see James. Ever since the incident two weeks ago, she dreaded their interactions, though she adored his appearance and demeanor.

James was an associate of hers, they both worked at the cafe about 20 miles from Nicole's small town of Halford. It was the only bookstore around for about 50 miles, so naturally, Nicole just had to work there.

Anyways, back to James. Tall, dark-haired, dreamy-eyed, six-packed jock... none of these traits described James. He was somewhat short for the age of 18, and was sort of slim and awkward. His blond hair in desperate need of a cut fell into is dirt-brown eyes in a shy fashion. He had an angular face, but his nose was slightly crooked.

Nonetheless, Nicole was entranced by him. His shyness was adorable, and his clumsiness never failed to bring a slight grin to her face, exposing her dimples. To anyone else, he might have been seen as foolish and possibly even pitiful, but to Nicole, he was a mysterious, gentle, overly self conscious boy from another town. One who knew nothing of her school failures (socially and in science class) or of her family's disgrace.

Her crush with him had persisted for a full month before she took action. She started a conversation.

"Umm... hi!," she said kindly. She scrunched her narrow shoulders slightly out of nervous habit, but provided a small grin and looked James in the eyes.

"H-hey," James stuttered, shocked by actually having a conversation with the quietest desk clerk he'd ever met.

"My name's Nicole," she blurted, shooting her hand out.

"I know. It says right there," James replied, nodding towards her name tag above her right breast and completely ignoring the hand she extended. Handshakes are not common among teens, and so he was naturally suspicious of a prank. If nothing else, accepting the strange gesture could lead to many more unwanted conversations.

Nicole dropped her palm back to her side and looked down at her shirt, "Oh... Duh.. Sorry." She had no clue what she was sorry for, but she immediately felt out of place and ignorant. And weirdly ashamed of her small breasts. She kept her gaze to the floor.

A few moments passed. Eventually, just as James was about to ask what Nicole wanted to say, a customer came in. A little boy demanded a book on fire trucks and James, glad for the excuse, rushed off to help him find it.

Dumbstruck and embarrassed, Nicole took her lunch break and didn't return.

Two weeks later, they still hadn't spoken and the awkward tension was reaching its maximum.