Flirting
"Hey Arnold-o." She fell in the seat behind him and lay back like she owned the bus, her feet pushing up against the window, her blond hair swaying off the side of the seat. "You look like you're catching flies. What're you dreamin' about, paste for brains?"
"Nothing." He said, surprised at her even bothering to make conversation.
"Yea yea, probably dreamin' about footballs or somethin'. Footballhead." She muttered this, glaring at the metal roofing of the bus.
"Yea I guess." He chuckled, turning over to face her. "Where're you going?"
"To the park."
"Can I come?"
She tucked her little pink book under her. "No."
"Oh." Slightly dejected, he refaced the front of the bus. A beat, he turned back around. "Wait a minute, you don't own the park."
She blinked, "Excuse me?"
"I can come if I want to." He insisted.
She crimsoned with anger. "No you cannot footballhead!"
He half smiled. "Oh I think I can Ms. Pataki."