Luscious brown, curly hair, in a disheveled mess with those soft hazel eyes that you can just dive into. His casual walk made my heart swoon as I tried to match it. A giggle tickled my throat as I glanced up at his radiant awe-shucks grin. His rough, worn in corduroy jacket gently brushed my wrists as we wove our way through the bustling crowd, cradling their huge buckets of calorie-packed butter popcorn with fountain-size Pepsi’s in the other arm. Each brush sent a rejuvenated stream of tingles pricking through my arm.

Looking through the glossy bangs that I had spent hours perfecting, I couldn’t imagine how lucky I was. Here I was, at the movies, with the one and only David Peterson. The simplicity of his name always sent my heart into flames again. David Peterson. Gazing dreamingly up into his gorgeous complexion, it was all I could do to keep from sighing. After all, out of all the girls in our school he picked me. And, this wasn’t just any date. This one was my first.

As he gestured at a movie enthusiastically, he gushed on and on, persuading me that it was the best. I simply nodded, already lost in my dreamland as I drooled over his glistening teeth, even braces looked good on him.

David led me to the ticket lady. “Two tickets for the Simpsons movie please,” he bellowed in his deep, manly voice that I have spend eternity stalking. The lady’s high-pitched voice was no match for his, “And that would be thirteen dollars.”

Patiently, I gazed on as his graceful, magnificently constructed fingers counted out the…six dollars and fifty cents. Folding his empty wallet back into his jeans, his beautiful eyes locked onto mine, waiting expectantly. Wait…but wasn’t he supposed to pay for my ticket? Wasn’t that the RULES?!!? I froze. My heart throbbing, intelligently knowing that it was in danger. My mind raced, no longer remembering why I felt so lucky only minutes ago.

I stalled, grinding my molars on the sweet watermelon Trident that suddenly tasted sour. My cheeks heated up, wailing under the intensity of his piercing stare. I waited for his rumbling laugh, telling me that he was just kidding. But, it never came. I waited for a miracle, like the movie theater suddenly bursting into flames, but that didn’t happen either.

My throat felt so dry, as my grubby fingers snuck into my jean pocket. Why did I pick today to wear my favorite dark American Eagle signature jeans that also happened to be super tight? Fishing out my pink Razor phone, I boldly exclaimed to David, “Sorry I gotta take this call.” Inhale… exhale… inhale…. Taking deep breaths, I quickly sought a minute’s refuge away from his penetrating gaze, turning my back to him, I fumbled for my number one speed dial. Please pick up. Please pick up. Finally. A familiar woman’s bored voice come on line. Thank god. “Hey, Mom, can you do me a huge favor, come to the movies and drop of six dollars and fifty cents for me, wait make that eight dollars, just in case he makes me pay for my popcorn too.” I closed my eyes, unable to believe that this moment could be real. Heart thudding in my ears, I added a quick, but urgent, “It’s an emergency.” Staring back at David, I sighed. Nobody’s perfect.