Carry the drama queen to a bench.

Not missing a beat, you pick her up and walk her down the corridor. “Oooh!” she blurts as you hoist her up. You put one arm under her back, and the other hand holds her by her thighs. Her soft, plump thighs feel amazing on your fingertips. She starts to shove your chest. “What the hell, get off me!” she says.

You roll your eyes; “oh my god, I’m just trying to help you.” You put her down gently on the bench and sit next to her. “I’m Chris by the way.”

“I’m not telling you my name, asshole,” she says as she leans down an tugs her skirt to her knees, covering up as much as she can.

You look at her purse. You point at “Your name is Tina.” Her purse is custom embroidered with her name.

“Shhhh! Shut up!” she says as she snatches her purse and moves it to her other side, out of view.

“Listen,” you say as you stand up, “I’m just gonna go. I hope you feel better. Take care of your self.” You start to walk away, but she tugs at your jersey.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” she says. “I guess I got a bit frazzled when I fell. Thanks for helping me up.”

You sit down next to her and talk to her while she regains her bearings.

“I have a feeling you don’t go to my school,” you say with a sly smile.

“Did the uniform give it away?” She says with a laugh.

“A little bit!”

“I got to Holy Cross, the all-girls school a few blocks from here.”

“Nice, I go to PHS,” you reply.

“Oh cool, the guy I’m seeing is graduating from there this year.”

“Well, why isn’t he here to protect you from getting knocked over?” you say with a cheesy wink. It works. She laughs and runs her hand through her hair.

You chat for a bit as she recovers from her fall. You learn that she just turned 18 last month, and that she lives with her mom and her step-dad in a house near your neighborhood. As you’re talking you catch yourself staring at her long, smooth legs. This girl is an absolute dime.