When Tiny Hands Meet

Mischievous Matthew

Annie never expected anything to happen between them. They were coworkers and friends before anything else. She couldn't have possibly anticipated feelings would ever be there. Denise would be furious if she found out what was happening between them, but Annie knew she had to look out for herself just this once.

The bus rides normally felt long with the noise and chatter of her fellow students, but today was different. Matt sat right behind Annie and she felt her heart skip a beat. He was so close. It felt strangely intimate.

He was the only one that never made fun of her for her disformity. She couldn't help that a miniature hand sprouted from the tip of her right index finger. It was almost comical. With the fake tiny hand trend sweeping the interest it became a good cover.

Matt's hand brushes against my own, and I can't help but flinch away from the gentle touch. No one has ever touched my tiny hand. The tiny fingertips tingle. It feels electric. I feel the red in my cheeks burning. He's so close.

"Hey Annie"

My heart stopped. "H-hi Matt" I whisper, barely audible over the noise of the bus.

"Hello Annie" he said again, his voice deeper.

I giggle. I was smitten. "W-what's up?"

"I was wondering if you would want me to walk you home today."

I could've died right in that moment. This was the day everything would change...

It was my stop and I felt my legs shake. This was it. Matt was going to walk me home like they do in those cheesey teen romance movies.

The bus stopped all too soon. What is a girl to do? My heart was bursting with excitement and anticipation. My hands (including the tiny one) were starting to feel clammy.

"Is this your stop?" He asked, smooth like a criminal. But like, a bad one. Cause hes 16 and all teenagers are awkward.

"Y-yes. Are you ready?"

"Always" he winked and my inner fangirl wanted to die right then and there.

I stepped off the bus into the cold November air, the wind brushing my short black hair off my shoulders.

He followed behind me, his curly brown locks tusseled in the wind. He was like a pubescent Adam Sandler from Grown Ups. God he was hot.

We walked in silence all the way down the street. He would occasionally whistle and kick a stone, searching for words.

The street felt abnormally long on that walk home.

After what felt like an eternity we reached my front door. "Well, uh, see you in school."

It was in that moment I knew my crush was stupid and boys suck.