The Chaperoneby Laura Moriarty
8 min @ the dining table
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
She sounded bright and expectant. He nodded to invisible music.
He was still stunned that he had actually called her name out. Loud enough that she heard. And that she stopped. She even smiled and turned back. The hall was deserted. This was happening. He was not prepared.
“Hey.”
She had picked up the rhythm of his head bop and harmonized with little staccato nods of her own. She smiled wider. He liked the way her ponytail was never centered and that her glasses made her eyes bigger. He could feel the moisture of his hand on his binder. He wished he could open it and read the words he had written out. He had meant to practice asking. He could see the words but he just couldn’t form the sentence. “Dance” “You” ‘Me”, a question.
This was really happening.
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