His hand sits there… waiting to be held.
She picks up her phone… her hands are busy constantly, texting and checking. What is she waiting for?
“...bad decisions that we made. So don’t tell me what to do”
“I’m not telling you what to do.”
“Yeah you are…”
Now his hands are crossed in front of his body…. And in his pockets.
They go outside; to sit in the sun to get away…. To get privacy... and her, to get space.
Now sit across from each other, eye to eye, rather than right next to each other as they did inside.
It is another teenage love gone awry.
Get rid of the damn phone!
* * * * *
Ahhh, Spring Love. Sorry for the belated post. I hope you enjoy my moment of being ever so grateful I am no longer a teenager.
Interestingly, while looking for a I found a great article about why overheard cell phone conversations bug us so much