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Pretty Boy Smile

It was just another day. I looked outside to the sky full of raindrops and clouds. Nothing good ever comes out of gloomy days like these for anyone, well, except for fictional, cheesy teenage book characters. In the stories about your modern fourteen year old kid, they find love in all the unexpected places and situations. From dropping their books in the hallway and having the perfect guy happen to be there to pick them up for them, to accidently bumping into a handsome teenage boy at the ice skating rank, and BOOM! suddenly they’re holding hands. Well I’m just Addie Jenson so that sort of thing could never happen to me. Ha! For once I was wrong.

“I think I’ll just get white frosting for my cupcakes.”

Getting the perfect supplies for the annual Easter dessert contest can be, well, a struggle.

“I don’t really care! Just help me find my coconut shavings.” Hollis says

Younger sisters. They can be so demanding sometimes.

We start walking further down the aisle, and that’s when I see him. Again. The guy that I had made eye contact with in the chips aisle, and who was currently locking eyes with me.

My eyes dart away quickly in hope that he can’t see the red shooting up my cheeks.

Once he begins to examine the brands of chocolate chips, my eyes return to his. They are the shape of almonds with milky brown irises in the center. I look up to notice the slight waves of his perfectly-trimmed hair that shares the same color of his eyes. His body is the shape of a toned athlete. Exactly my type.

“Are these the ones I want?” Hollis asks, staring intently at the coconut shavings.

“No, no. Keep looking.” I hadn’t even glanced at them since I don’t want to leave this aisle. I want to continue staring at the intriguing boy.

“What about these?”

I ignore her; my attention is focused on his choice between Hershey or Toll House morsels. I personally would choose Toll House, but he decides to go with the classic Hershey’s brand.

Oh well, a girl can adapt.

“What about these, Addie?” Hollis asks again; this time in a clearly agitated voice.

I stare as the boy throws the chocolate chips in his dad’s shopping basket.

“There’s nothing special about him.” I tell myself, yet I don’t believe the words even as I try to force them upon myself. Something draws me to him. Maybe it’s his kind eyes, or his attractive features, but suddenly I wish I were wearing anything other than my older sister’s worn-down, baggy high school softball sweatshirt, especially since he’s wearing his letterman jacket that just so happens to be from our rival school, the Blest Bengals.

I certainly wish I wasn’t sporting my school’s red and black colors now.

“You’re no help.” Hollis complains, grabbing a random brand, and pulling me along side of her down the aisle.

When we get to the mysterious boy, he moves his dad’s cart away for my sister and me to pass by him.

“What a gentleman.” I think

Although I soon realize that some of his manners aren’t the greatest, for he deliberately looks down so that we don’t have to make any more eye contact than necessary for one shopping trip.

We finally find my older sister Madehlean after voyaging across half the store.

“Addie, I need your help. I’ve got so many things left to check off of my list, and I’m going to run out of time. Go grab me some tortillas.”

Older sisters: they’re just like the younger ones, except even more demanding.

“Sure, whatever.” I act nonchalant, although I’m secretly hoping that I will “run into” the boy again. I’m not sure why, but I’m determined to find this fascinating boy one last time.

I basically search the entire store for him like a lion would a gazelle, but the boy doesn’t cross my field of vision once.

So what for my Romeo, I guess I’m just Juliet with a twist: I never find true love. I’m The Titanic with no end, considering that my Jack never dies for me. In my tale, Jack doesn’t even know I exist.

Well, I figure Mr. Perfect must have left; nothing wrong with that. I guess Easter shopping must not last forever for some people.

I continue to complete Madehlean’s various demands while accepting defeat of my mission to find the guy. But the search for chicken broth is different.

He’s there standing in the soup aisle, taking me by surprise. I have no excuse to avoid him. This is life or death people, if I don’t get this chicken broth, Easter dinner will be ruined, and there is no way that I am going to let that happen.

So I’m willing to risk it all to get this broth. Eye contact can’t be avoided if I need to politely ask him to move over or to grab the broth from the highest shelf. A million ideas run through my mind; a thousand ways to make eye contact.

I begin to walk like a nervous robot towards him (If robots even get nervous). I have decided to just not acknowledge him at all; to pretend like I haven’t been tracking him down for the past half hour.

I zero in on my broth and begin to reach for it—

“Here you go.”

His voice startles me. I can imagine a thousand stories being told by it. It possesses a calming trait.

“Thank you.” I smile sweetly, but inside my heart is racing.

“It’s the wrong kind!” My mind screams at me.

Should I exchange it for the right kind, or will that be rude? Should I ask him to grab the can next to it, or will that be too straight forward? Should I just keep it and go home with the wrong kind, or will that ruin Easter dinner?

Sabotage Easter dinner or sabotage this moment?

As if I’m going to commit the latter.

“No problem.” His smile is definitely a pretty boy smile. The perfect corners perked up, the straight teeth, the soft, plush, pink lips.

“I didn’t think it was.” I say flirtatiously with a smirk and a wink.

Without another word, I turn and nearly skip down the aisle.

I hear his laughter behind me as I make my way down the aisle.

Just as I’m about to turn the corner, he grabs my attention by a shout filled with laughter, “Wait!”

I turn around, curious as to what he’s going to say. With all of my wit, I’m usually the one closing the conversations.

“Yes?” My eyebrows rise up in question.

“The name’s Bailey, Bailey Ashton.”

I can’t help it, I laugh out loud.

“Is that the best James Bond impression you’ve got?” I joke.

“You got a better one?” He smirks, taunting me.

I can’t resist that. He can’t get the last word.

“The names Addie, Addie Jenson.”

And with that, I walk to the produce section.

How romantic.

When I get back to Madehlean, she has no more errands left for me to run. That means no more excuses to find Bailey. No more excuses to hold a lively chat about James Bond. Even though we roam through the store, grabbing the last few items, I don’t see him again. He has magically disappeared once more.

The shopping trip comes to a close, and I figure I won’t see Bailey Ashton ever again. Well how often do you hear of grocery store relationships lasting long? I mean come on, what did I expect?

We wait in line, not ambitious enough to use the self-checkout. My sisters go to the end of the register to help my mom pack groceries, but I become distracted by a magazine featuring Channing Tatum shirtless on the cover. All of sudden, Bailey pulls magic trick number two out of his sleeve: he reappears behind me.

“Hey.” He taps me on the shoulder.

I whirl around and realize that he’s by himself holding a basket of various grocery items. “Where’s your dad?”

I know, I am quite the charmer.

“Hello to you too, Bailey.” He mimics me, and smiles his pretty boy smile once more.

“You beat me to it.” I joke back at him.

His face turns puzzled, “How’d you even know my dad was with me?”
I immediately feel warmth fill my cheeks.

I hurry to come up with a witty response, but for once my humor has failed me.

“Ah-ha!” He points an accusing finger at me. “You were watching me!”

I gasp dramatically, “I was doing nothing of the sort!” My eyes get big with his accusation, and I throw my hand to my heart in an innocent gesture.

“By the way,” I say for a change of subject, “You shouldn’t point fingers because when you do, you have three more pointing back at you.”

“That’s solid.” I think, “It’ll take him awhile to digest that, therefore forgetting about his previous accusation.”

He does a dramatic three-sixty search of the store, “I don’t see any fingers pointing.”

I just roll my eyes, still feeling a lack of my usual “wittiness”.

“You know for all your good looks, you don’t have very many quick comebacks. You seem to be a little” He pauses and smiles deviously, “tongue-tied.”

I squint my eyes at him, hoping to have taken on a playfully angry look, “You know for all your good looks and— ” I pretend to think for a moment, “Wait! What good looks?”

I begin to laugh.

Sure it isn’t the best comeback ever, but I feel on a scale of “flirtiness” it is definitely a ten.

He just smiles at me, ready to fire something right back, but then I hear a voice calling his name.

He frowns. “Coming Dad!”

Then he looks at me and begins to stare. I feel as if he’s truly getting a good look at me for the first time.

“What?” I question, beginning to feel like I have ketchup on my lip or gum in my hair.

By the look in his eyes, I can tell that he has a final word to add, but all he says is, “Go Bengals!”

Then he pats my bag in a “see-you-next-time” gesture. While smiling his signature smile, he begins to set off towards his dad.

“Hey!” I shout at him.

“What now?” He turns and grins.

“For future reference, I always get the last word.”

He just smiles and shakes his head in admiration.

Giving me the last word, he sets off.

I watch as him and his dad made their way to the self-check out machine.

I return to your normal fourteen year old girl and begin to search my bag for my chap stick. Instead I find a carefully folded up piece of notebook paper in its place.

Written in neat handwriting I read this, “If you ever want to see your chap stick again, you should probably call this number 612-277-9058, and in case you ever feel the need to watch any James Bond’s movies with someone, I own the whole series.–Bailey Ashton”

I can’t stop myself, I begin to laugh.

I look over at the place where Bailey stands to find him staring at me. Applying MY chap stick to HIS plush lips.

He grins and winks at me, forming the universal “call-me” sign with his thumb and pinkie.
I laugh.

I guess this time he got the last word

Join the Discussion

This article has 7 comments. Post your own!

Marmmy said...
Jan. 6, 2013 at 4:31 pm:
That was a great story! I love the whole love conquers all aspect to romance novles, but they always seem way too out-there. This brought the romance novle aspect, with it still being realistic enough. 
Alexa19 replied...
Jan. 6, 2013 at 10:26 pm :
Thank you!
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londongirl90 said...
Jan. 6, 2013 at 10:54 am:
Sooo cute! I wish I was Addie! Amazing work
Alexa19 replied...
Jan. 6, 2013 at 3:21 pm :
Haha! Thank you!
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In_Love_with_Writing said...
Jan. 5, 2013 at 9:54 pm:
I LOVED IT SOOOO MUCH!!!!!!! I can't even describe how much I loooooved it! Man, that was great!!! You are fantastic :) Check out some of my stories and maybe leave a comment? Each comment and rating brings a sense of joy into my heart :)
Alexa19 replied...
Jan. 6, 2013 at 3:19 pm :
Thanks so much! It really means alot! I will check out your work once i get a chance to!
In_Love_with_Writing replied...
Jan. 6, 2013 at 6:18 pm :
Aw thanks :)
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