WaWa What??

             It was a chilly fall day after soccer practice in the gym.  I walked out of school in just shorts and a t-shirt to meet my dad in the parking lot.  As I walked to the car I thought to myself, “Huh.  It’s cooler than I thought it would be.” Not really thinking anything of it, I got in the car and we pulled away. 

“Hey dad, can we stop by Wawa and get something to drink? I’m kind of thirsty.”

“No, the parking lot is always full.  We’ll be home in less than ten minutes.”

“Aww come on I just got finished running around for an hour and a half.   I’m parched!”

“Alright, alright fine.  I’ll take you to Wawa”

“Thanks dad.   I love youuu!”

About two minutes later we pulled into Wawa’s crowded parking lot.   When I was getting out of the car I felt the cold wind hit my wet, sweaty armpits.  It was then when I realized the two unsightly large dark spots on the underarm areas of my t-shirt.   “Wow, I really picked the wrong day to wear gray!” I said.  Needless to say, I made the hasty decision to put on my hoodie to cover the stains.  I walked up to the door and opened it, my dad following behind.   Through the glass I caught a glimpse of you.  I saw you there, scanning each item the customers had and telling them their total.  I totally dug that stylish black polo you wore, and your curly brown hair, and your skinny arms.  “What a hunk!” I thought.  Instead of gushing all over you and acting like a creep, I kept my cool and walked over to the dairy section and picked up some chocolate milk. 

“Chocolate milk?  Why do you want chocolate milk?” my dad asked.

“Because Coach McGovern said low fat chocolate milk is good for you after you’re done exercising.  Plus I’m really in the mood for it anyway, so it’s a win-win.”

My dad and I got in the long line of customers waiting to be checked out.  A few minutes past and I was next in line.  My heart was beating faster.  I really hoped you would notice me.  Then it was my turn. 

“Hi, Rrrryan!” I said while looking at your nametag.  Your name was typed in a small font, so it was a little bit hard to see.

You gave me a small smile and said, “Hi.  How are you today?”

“I’m good!” I told you.  “How’re you?”

“I’m fine, thanks.  Is this all?”

“Yep.  That’s all, Ryan.  Do you know when Hoagiefest starts?”

“I dunno…like June?”

“Oh okay cool.  Hoagies are awesome,” I froze.  That was all I could think of to say.  I felt so dumb—but hey, what can I say?  There was just something about you that could just leave a girl speechless.

And you were like, “Yeah…they’re pretty good I guess.  They should make Hoagiefest a national holiday…”

You scanned the half-gallon of milk and said, “That’s two dollars and nineteen cents.” 

I handed you a five-dollar bill.  Our hands touched.  Sparks flew…well for me they did.   We would look so cute together as a couple.  You, me, just the two of us.  It would be great! 

“Two dollars and eighty-one cents is your change.” You placed the change in my hand, “Have a nice day!”

Our hands touched again.   You wanted me to have a nice day!  That was such a sweet thing to say.  I smiled, picked up my chocolate milk and walked away toward the door.  I sensed someone looking at me, and I looked back.  That someone was you, Ryan.  There wasn’t really much of an expression on your face, which confused me a little bit, but I gave you a modest smile in return anyway.  You were definitely checking me out.  I know you were.  You were looking at my badass legs in those skin-tight slider shorts.  Don’t you think for one second didn’t know what you were doing.  You were eyeing me up, checking me out.  Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow to buy something and slip my phone number in between some dollar bills. 

My dad and I left the store and drove home.  When we got home, I put the chocolate milk in the refrigerator and went up to my room to change out of my dirty clothes.  I looked in the mirror.  Something was extremely wrong—terribly wrong!  I. Was. Horrified.  My hoodie was on backwards!  It dawned on me that you weren’t checking me out, Ryan.  You were just looking at the weirdo who had her sweatshirt on backwards!  Oh the humanity! How could this have happened to me?  I frantically ran downstairs and angrily called my father’s name.

“DAD!”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me my hoodie was on backwards?!”

“I didn’t know!  I didn’t notice!”

“And I was thinking this whole time the cashier was eyeing me up.  God damn it!”

             I stormed back upstairs and thought about what had just transpired.  Do you think I'm crazy and that's how I like to wear my clothes?  Do you think I'm a dumbass for not realizing my hoodie was on backwards?--Or do you think I'm quirky and I did it on purpose?  I will never know.