Something to Remember Him By
Nina Callas was not a very pretty girl.
She liked to think that she was; she liked to think that she was the prettiest of them all, dancing and prancing with all the boys at the ball, drinking and flirting with all the men. She twisted those of the opposite gender around on her pinkie finger, just like the diamond ring Josh Hotz had gotten her two months ago, the night before she dumped him flat on his toned butt.
"It's not me, it's you," she had cooed, curling a lock of her dark hair coyly around her index finger. Josh had stumbled back, an indecipherable expression on his face. He turned around on his heel and walked quickly down the front steps, getting into his car and speeding away without sparing her another glance. Nina had just been about to return to her bedroom when a sparkle on the ground caught her eye. She bent down and searched for the source.
She found it almost immediately: It was so large that she didn't think anyone could miss it. It was a diamond ring, intricately cut and shined to perfection. He was going to propose. Nina slipped the finger on her pinkie and flounced back into her house, dark hair bouncing on her shoulders. Josh would be over her, no matter how much he liked (or even loved) her, in a week or two—the least she could do was keep something to remember him by.