Shirley was at her locker, stowing books, retrieving others. Tom walked toward her with newly acquired confidence.
“Okay, keep Friday night open. I got the tickets.”
She looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. “What do you mean? What tickets?”
“Yesterday, when I was standing next to you just before you got on the bus to go home, I asked you if you’d like to go to the Spring Play. You said, ‘Yeah, sure.’ So I got the tickets.”
“Oh, Tom,” she said, sighing. “I didn’t mean with you.” She slammed her locker shut and walked away.
“Okay, keep Friday night open. I got the tickets.”
She looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. “What do you mean? What tickets?”
“Yesterday, when I was standing next to you just before you got on the bus to go home, I asked you if you’d like to go to the Spring Play. You said, ‘Yeah, sure.’ So I got the tickets.”
“Oh, Tom,” she said, sighing. “I didn’t mean with you.” She slammed her locker shut and walked away.
