Todd eyed the new bag Elizabeth had started carrying. It was a purse. Elizabeth had carried nothing but a backpack everywhere for the past three years, the entire time he'd known her. He wasn't sure what this change said about her. For all he knew she was becoming one of those women that wouldn't look twice at him or speak to him like he was a person. Why did things have to change, he wondered.
"What's in that thing anyway?" he asked her, grumpy. Elizabeth was amused at the way he eyed the purse like it was a living, biting animal instead of a large black bag on a crossbody gold chain.
"You want to look inside?" she asked him, smiling and tapping her pencil on her open notebook.
"What could you possibly need to carry in this stupid thing?" he grumbled, grabbing the bag. He pulled out her wallet. It was a wallet, just like his, that was clearly from the men's section. He rolled his eyes up to look up at her, his face still directed down toward the bag, giving her a look.
"I don't like women's wallets," Elizabeth told him. He tossed it onto the bed and went back to the purse.
"Keys," she told him as he pulled out a multicolored pink and orange keychain bracelet.
"Hand sanitizer," he replied as he continued pulling out items, "Four safety pins. Enough hair ties to make a braid out of them. Chocolate. Tylenol? Why not aspirin?"
"I'm allergic to willow trees. Aspirin comes from willow trees," she reminded him gently. She felt like she'd told him that before. She felt a little odd as Todd rummaged through her purse. It felt a bit like he was brushing his fingers through her internal organs. It wasn't painful at all, maybe even a bit pleasurable, but it felt more intimate than it probably should have felt. Elizabeth figured she was weird.
"A tiny notebook?" he looked up at her, curious, "Can I read this?"
"Uh," Elizabeth looked flustered, "I guess. It's just poetry scraps and writing ideas."
"Huh," he opened it, "Hardly seems fair that I've never read any of your poetry but you stick your cute little nose in all of my sketches."
"You probably have read some of my stuff," Elizabeth fidgeted, "I submit work to the Salem Center High School's Illustrious Gazette."
"That magazine that gets passed around?" he asked her, vaguely remembering, thinking he'd have to dig up a few old copies, "So, you're a real published writer."
"Ah," she nearly stuttered as she spoke, "Well, only my poetry. I'm not very good."
He flipped through the book and started reading at random.
"Skin white as apple flesh, spirit strong as red rose thorn,
Lips red as mother's blood, temper as yellow sweet corn,
Eyes green as apple skin, with summer flowers adorn,
Hair black as ebony blade. Magic, I cast a child yet born,
From this spell my daughter is born."
"It was supposed to be the spell for a my retelling of Snow White," Elizabeth hid her face in her hands and peeked out from between her fingers, "But I never wrote the story."
"What was going to be your take on it?" he asked.
"I was going to make Snow White the incarnation of the spirit of darkness, shadow itself," Elizabeth rubbed her face, "Her prince was going to be the incarnation of death. I thought I would write about the love story between darkness and death through different lives, across many reincarnations, and different eras."
"You didn't write it?" he asked, surprised.
"Ah, no," she shrugged, uncomfortable, "Your talent is amazing. Mine is mediocre at best. Besides, I start writing something and then I sort of stop? I get distracted, doing too much research and end up not writing what I want to write because everything gets too complicated."
"Hmm," Todd put the notebook aside with a thoughtful look, "What else is in here?"
Todd continued pulling things out of her purse: a lighter, cash, a granola bar, a pack of tissues, band-aids, a compact mirror, perfume, headphones and an mp3 player. He stuck an earbud into his ear and started scrolling through her playlist.
"We need to have a serious conversation about your taste in music," he finally commented.
"Why?" she asked, curious.
"There's country, some girl power pop, and like two rap songs," he sighed, "You need some serious rock music therapy to cure you. It may take years."
"I'll get right on that," she laughed.
"Ugh, girly stuff," he made a face briefly when he opened the small zip lock bag of her sanitary supplies.
"They're clean," Elizabeth commented dryly, "But don't touch them anyway."
"Don't worry, I won't," he told her, zipping it back up and returning it to her purse. He'd gone through the entire bag, including the pile of receipts that she had racked up.
"Why do you save all these?" he asked her, watching as she dumped the whole lot into the little trash bin under her desk.
"I don't know," she fretted, "I just know you're supposed to save them but I don't know why. I read in some date advice article in a magazine that it's a good sign if a guy saves his receipts when you're out on a date with him because it shows that he's financially responsible or something."
Todd snorted in amusement, "It's financially responsible to check your receipts against your checkbook or bank account so you can see if your charges match. It's also a good way to track your spending to see where you're wasting your money. But it only works if you do something with them when you get home."
"I throw them away when I get home," Elizabeth looked at the small pile in the trash briefly.
"Yeah, you may as well not take them," he shook his head, "If that's what you're going to do with them you may as well not carry around the extra trash."
"Why does my purse worry you?" she asked him. Todd shifted his weight. It was his turn to be uncomfortable.
"You're starting to look like other girls," he muttered, not looking at her, "You know, with a purse and all the crap in it. Next thing I know you're going to buy a pair of high heels and start acting all snooty and crap."
Elizabeth forced herself not to glance at her closet. In it, a shoebox lay on the floor with a new pair of high heeled boots inside. She'd gotten the black thigh high boots for her senior prom and graduation.
"High heels!" she widened facetious eyes at him, "How terrible!"
"Ugh," he shook his head, exasperated.
Elizabeth stood up and he turned to face her. She slid a hand into his hair and tipped her face up to kiss him. She pulled back in time to catch a stunned, spellbound expression on his face.
"I keep expecting to wake up," Todd told her, burying his face in the layers of her blonde hair. She smelled of vanilla and passion flower. So soft, he thought as he absently ran his fingers gently up and down her arms.
"I am going to grow and change as a person," Elizabeth told him, "You should, too. Love isn't just a feeling, it's a choice. As long as you keep choosing me, I'll keep choosing you."
I'll choose you, he thought to himself, for the rest of my life.