Valentine's Date
Today was the day. Pitch took a deep breath, then walked into the local high school. He was dressed in a nice, green button-up shirt and black slacks and he had a small bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates in hand. Technically, he shouldn't be there, since he wasn't enrolled in the school, but because of the Valentine's dance being hosted here, he doubted that anyone would really care. A lot of the students would probably be bringing dates who weren't from this school.
The dance was being held in the gym, which was already full of teenagers. The music was loud almost to the point of being irritating, but Pitch just adjusted his hearing receptors to filter it a little. Much better. Now to find a Valentine's date.
The task was more daunting than he had thought it would be. It seemed like every girl in there was talking to or dancing with a boy. Stupid. It's a Valentine's dance. Of course they came with dates.
But not all of them had. His eyes fell on a few people hanging back against the walls. Some were boys, some were girls, but none of them seemed to be with anyone. That would be the best place to start.
With no real way to choose between any of them, he approached the nearest girl. She was wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt - not exactly dressy, even by the apparent standard among teens, but Pitch wasn't about to judge her. Maybe it was the best she had, or maybe she just hadn't felt like dressing up. He didn't know and he didn't really care.
"Hi," he said. "I'm Pitch. Would you like to dance?" He held his breath, waiting for her answer. He hoped he was doing this right.
[To be continued...]
The dance was being held in the gym, which was already full of teenagers. The music was loud almost to the point of being irritating, but Pitch just adjusted his hearing receptors to filter it a little. Much better. Now to find a Valentine's date.
The task was more daunting than he had thought it would be. It seemed like every girl in there was talking to or dancing with a boy. Stupid. It's a Valentine's dance. Of course they came with dates.
But not all of them had. His eyes fell on a few people hanging back against the walls. Some were boys, some were girls, but none of them seemed to be with anyone. That would be the best place to start.
With no real way to choose between any of them, he approached the nearest girl. She was wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt - not exactly dressy, even by the apparent standard among teens, but Pitch wasn't about to judge her. Maybe it was the best she had, or maybe she just hadn't felt like dressing up. He didn't know and he didn't really care.
"Hi," he said. "I'm Pitch. Would you like to dance?" He held his breath, waiting for her answer. He hoped he was doing this right.
[To be continued...]