We left the fitness center,
and back on the bus,
I heard some girls talking.
“You know that girl Lindsey?
The one that looks like a fat little mouse?”
“Her? What about her?”
“She actually has a boyfriend.”
“Like, seriously? God, and I couldn’t
even get an eighth grader to take me
to the prom!”
I pressed my ear against the freezing metal side
of the bus and squeezed my eyes shut.
No matter how hard I tried not to pay attention,
I still heard them.
“That guy she dates must be, like, real crazy
“To date her? Yeah.”