Number One

The old public address system crackled and boomed as the ancient microphone was turned on and adjusted. The DJ announced the next skate was the moonlight skate, and everyone was instructed to grab hands with a partner as the opening strains to “The Tide is High” by Blondie came over the speakers. Cole sat on a bench with Andrew, who was holding an icepack on his head.

“What happened to asking Lisa on the moonlight?” Andrew asked, adding extra, mocking trembolo to his voice at the end of his question.

“She kissed me on the cheek. I think that counts more.” Andrew gave a sickly nod, and sat back slightly impressed. The tide is high, but I’m holding on. I’m gonna be your number one, the speakers sang. “That, and Scott Foreman asked before I could.”

Andrew stuck out his lip in pre-teen incredulity and eyed the couple in question as the skated by. He watched as Lisa looked at Cole in the brief second that they were parallel. Something in her eyes behind her expensive square frames changed as she looked at him. Andrew saw her smile becoming genuine, which he had never seen. He could not articulate that small flash of expression, but he knew what it meant. Andrew also made a glance at Scott, watching as he stared at every girl’s butt that zoomed passed him.

“Scott Foreman, what an asshole.”

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Moonlight Skate

Adam Bozarth