The First Time

She bumped into me between classes. Her books scatter. I drop to one knee, reaching for notebook. The girls by the lockers are giggling. Someone bumps me, as I try to occupy my nonexistent world.

I mutter. “I’m sorry,” Picking up the loose papers.

She’s kneeling beside me and whispers. “You didn’t have to knock my books on the floor to meet me.” She sticks out her free hand. “I’m Brenda.”

I touched her hand. “Brian.” Raising my head. Her green eyes glitter and are glued to me.

“You’re supposed to say, Nice to meet you.” 

“Yes, … yes, glad to meet you and sorry about …”

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