"Woah," she said, looking out over the sea of teenage heads crowded in the lobby. "Does everyone volunteer here?"
The answer to her question, to put it bluntly, was "Yes." SunnyField Elder Center and Village was the number one community service destination for the kids in town. If you had to volunteer, SunnyField would be the place to go. Nurses in yellow skirts and crisp aprons handed out cookies and lemonade at the end of each Volunteer Session and the work was generally pretty easy. The Volunteer coordinator - a tall woman with bleach blonde hair named Elise - was generally pretty nice and didn't snap at kids for slacking off. Finally, SunnyField offered an enormous amount of school credits for the student volunteers and a discount for their family members if they ever need Assistive Care.
The girl looked around the room. The walls were papered in a flowery design. A few enormous windows studded the walls with glass vases on the sills where, swimming in water, fake daisies stood limply. Actually, everything in SunnyField seemed to have a sickly flower motif. The plastic chemical scent drifted lazily around the room, clouding the area with fumes.
Through her thick rimmed glasses the girl scanned the laminated brochure she held in her hand. The teacher had given it to her on the first day of school. The brochure listed all of the recommended volunteer facilities. SunnyField was first on the list, but an asterisk on the side of the title said to "Make sure to get there early! SFEC+V is popular and they might not need volunteers!" like SunnyField was a popular concert or something. The girl smoothed down her coat and glanced at the crowd again. The lobby seemed to be clearing up, and it was because of this that she saw a boy elbowing his way through the crowd.
When I say 'boy' I really do mean boy. His chestnut hair was mussed and damp, like he had just woken up from a nap. His red parka was unbuttoned and flapping wildly as he made his way towards the girl. A green scarf cascaded over his shoulders until it landed unceremoniously on the flower print carpet.
"Hi," said the boy. The girl looked away. "Hi," he said again. No answer. "Oh my god, answer me, please! Hi!"
Finally the girl looked up.
" Does my not talking mean anything to you?" She mumbled. The boy blinked. "Usually when someone ignores you, it means that they don't want to talk. " This time she raised her voice. "I don't like talking to people. You would be bored anyways." All of a sudden the girls neutral tone went from neutral to embarrassed and angry.
"I don't know..." said the boy bashfully. "I'm pretty boring myself. My mom says maybe a friend would do the trick."
