"Okay, guys," Mrs. Stockinger clapped her hands to get the group's attention. "I want you to break into pairs and swap your most recent work. Read carefully and then give your feedback. Tactfully, I might add!"
The creative writing group that met after school laughed and then the room was full of clanks and squeaks as desks and chairs were moved around. Mary Anne glanced around looking for someone to work with. Someone touched her arm and Mary Anne turned to see Ian Wakefield smiling at her. "Mind being my partner?"
Mary Anne smiled shyly, "That would be fine." Ian handed her a single sheet of paper and Mary Anne took her most recent short story out of her binder and handed it to Ian.
Ian had composed a short, but very deep poem about death and the afterlife. Mary Anne felt embarrassed about her story about a boy and his grandfather. Compared to Ian's poetry, her story seemed so cliché and predictable. She studied his face as he read her work, trying to judge his opinion. His blue eyes crinkled with concentration behind his wire rimmed glasses.
"Whew!" Ian commented as he put Mary Anne's story down on the desk. "That was really wonderful."
"Seriously?" Mary Anne replied. "You didn't think it was too trite or immature?"
"No way!" Ian laughed increduously. "It was really touching and nostalgic. It had such an air of innocence to it. I loved it. What about my poem? Go on, slate me!"
"I liked it!" Mary Anne responded. "It was very….deep."
Ian took off his glasses and polished them on his shirt. "That's me, as deep as a puddle," he replied sarcastically.
"No, I'm serious," Mary Anne insisted. "It was so haunting and thought provoking." Mary Anne went on to describe all the points she liked. She got so wrapped up in her critique that she didn't notice Ian staring at her with fascination. Mary Anne noticed his amused gaze and finished with, "It would be perfect for the school's literary magazine." She laughed in embarrassment. "Sorry to go on so much."
Ian gazed at her and said, "I'm just really flattered you liked it so much, Mary Anne. You're one of the smartest girls in school and your opinion really means a lot to me."
Mary Anne blushed and rolled her eyes. "I'm being serious, Mary Anne. And besides being one of the smartest girls, you're also the prettiest."
Mary Anne took her story back and made a production of smoothing out the pages and putting it back in her binder. She felt so embarrassed! Pleased, but embarrassed.
Ian reached out and put his hands over hers to keep her from fussing with her binder. "Mary Anne, would you go with me to a poetry reading tonight at the coffee shop downtown?"
Mary Anne's eyes opened wide with amazement. "Me?"
Ian laughed. "Don't sound so shocked, Mary Anne! I don't know if it's too soon since you and Logan broke up, but I've been dying to ask you out since our sophomore year."
Mary Anne looked into his deep blue eyes and saw the sincerity there. Ian Wakefield was one of the smartest, most mature guys in the entire senior class. Not to mention one of the most romantic! "I'd love to, Ian," she smiled.
"Great," Ian replied taking his hands away. "How about I meet you there at seven thirty? That will give us time to get a good table and talk over some coffee before the reading starts."
Mary Anne gave him a broad smile. "I'll see you there."