Her small nose rested slightly askew and perhaps a bit upturned on her round face, but most found it to be a cute feature. She had never struggled for romantic partners. With that, she grabbed her phone, keys, and card holder and left the house. Inside something shifted and slipped through an unlit window into dark hedges.It was a short walk to the cobblestone street that held an odd array of restaurants, shops, and offices of varying de***********ion. Couples hung on each others’ arms, children held their parent’s hands. It bustled and bobbed, people going this way and that. “Hi!” she said at passersby, giving them a dimpled smile.“Hey, how goes it,” some replied.Others simply nodded and smiled. She knew men would turn to look at her butt and loved to catch them by looking over her shoulder. They always looked up quickly and quickened their pace. Lauren didn’t think herself a tease, but liked to be noticed. Most do. Trees planted every 20 feet or so provided shade to the patrons.. She acknowledged me, but said nothing further, not even asking if we'd be back for supper.His mother was waiting for us, of course, sitting in that favorite chair of hers, reading a book. She looked up when we came in. I looked helpless, and Scott looked unhappy."Sit down," she said. She didn't specify who should sit where.We both sat on the couch, directly across from her. I wondered if I should go to be beside her, but there was no place by her to sit, and she had said to sit, so I sat. I was at that awkward place between being a boy and a man. She had glimpsed and was nurturing the man in me, but I wasn't quite capable of doing that myself yet. That didn't matter at the moment, because she didn't look at me. She looked at her son."Why is Bobby your best friend?" she asked.I don't think either of us expected that question."I like him," said Scott."How about a little more detail than that?" she prompted."How much more detail is there?" he asked, his voice sullen. "I like him. Or at.
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