The Girl in Seat 23 {l.r.h.}

four.

And he sent that stupid guard back out to me!

"Wow, shocker, someone else was stubborn," Grazia said flatly, picking at her nail. "Who would've thought?"

He came back out, this time, with a piece of rainbow-colored paper in his hands.

"Luke says pick a color."

"What?"

"Your favorite color. Pick it." What a chop.

And I said, "What, has he never talked to a girl before?" Now at this point, I was almost a little intrigued. I thought This guy really must bot get out much with social skills like these.
Maybe he's mute.
He's not mute, you ding-bat. He does lead vocals.

The guard looked stunned, probably because the girl who had just turned down a rockstar was now having an all-out conversation with herself.

Your grandpa, he'd never been treated that way by a girl. Ever. In his whole life. He wasn't treated like a person. He was treated like a rockstar. And let me be the first and last to tell you, rock stars definitely are not people. They're a whole new breed of superhuman us teenage girls were supposed to bow down to. I thought it was over, and I'd go about my life like I'd never had a chance with the musical heartbreaker of every girl in the 60s. It was a blissful little ignorance I had going for me.

Boy, was I wrong.

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Movin on up with this story woo hoo ~Laura :)