Chomping Bubbles

With a wad of gum between my not-so-white teeth, I attempted to calm my frantically beating heart. I felt a sheepish grin spread across my adolescent face. Chomp. Chew.

The wind blew her hair around her face. “Why’re you so great, huh?” I think I managed to sound pretty cool. She looked at me strangely. Chew. Pop. Chomp.

“What do you mean?” She sounded amused. I frowned undecidedly and shifted, shoving my hands deeper into the pockets my old faded blue jeans. Coming up with nothing to say, I focused on blowing the biggest bubble-gum bubble in my history of chewing. My eyes on her the whole time, I positioned the gum in my mouth, right over the tip of my tongue, like I’d always done. She watched as the bubble grew larger, until it hid a part of my face. Her image became clouded behind the thin membranes of the bubble. Pop! Splatter. Silence.

I stood there, feeling the wind grow stronger and the goose bumps grow on my bare arms. What was she thinking? What was she ever thinking?

“Can I try a piece?”

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