She trails her finger along the edge of the frame and clicks her tongue on the top of her mouth. I hesitate, but the clock is ticking like a time bomb in my ears, and I know I have to say something. "Don't–" I cut myself off, clear my throat, and then say, "Don't you think it's getting kind of late?" I know how this scene plays out. My brother picks up a girl and then dumps her. She shows up here and waits 'til the wee hours of the morning for him; and then if he does come home eventually– which he usually doesn't– I quietly excuse myself to my room and listen as screaming ensues from said girl, with my brother replying in calm, monotonous and bored phrases, until the girl leaves, sobbing, and I wake up the next morning to find skid marks in our driveway. This girl's different, though– she's not tall, she's probably about 5'2'', in fact. She's brunette, which, although not entirely bizarre, is strange for my brother. And she's wearing a short red dress that hangs on her body like a bathtowel, outlining none of her curves, with flat tennis shoes doing nothing to make her look taller. Her face, though sculpted and striking, appears void of makeup. This girl just doesn't seem my brother's type. "It's not that late," she says, "I'll wait another minute or two. I don't mind." I nod, and look at my feet. I started sweating like a maniac when she first showed up and sat herself down at the breakfast bar– I offered her a cigarette, one of my brother's cigarattes, even though I myself have never smoked one in my life. She declined, scrunching up her nose, and I blushed and immediately out them away. She took off her shoes and walked out of the kitchen. Since then, she's been parading around the living room, trailing her finger along the picture frames, clicking her tongue, and leaving her bare footprints in the deep carpet. I can't help but notice how she pauses on the pictures of my brother– my brother and I, that is, but that's hardly significant, as I'm sure she's focused on my brother– and just stares at them for a moment, as if her eyes are searching for something in the photographs she can't find when she really looks at him. Finally, earlier than usual, fortunately, my brother shows up. He walks in the door and throws his jacket on the kitchen bar and then turns to me and starts saying, "Man, Benny boy, will you be amazed when I tell you about the–" he stops then, as he sees her in the living room, turning slowly from a frame to look at him, but I know what words would have followed–"girl I met today". It's the first words out of his mouth every day when he steps in the door, and the girl's always different from the last one. "Well, would you look at that!" he says, his mouth wide in a huge smile, and I'm shocked by the authenticity of it, "You're here!" Clearly, she's the amazing girl he met today. I step out of the kitchen awkwardly, not sure where I should look. "Hello, Connor," she says, and her voice is thick, warm pudding, the kind of voice you'd here in a Maybelline commercial. "I didn't expect you to be–" Connor starts, but she cuts him off, "Listen, Connor, I've been waiting here for forty-five minutes, and I have a seven o'clock shift at the restaurant, so I need to make this quick." She clears her throat and brushes her hair out of her eyes. "I need you to stop calling me." Connor looks stunned, but I feel even more stunned, my eyes wide at the idea of Connor being the desperate one. She shakes her head and says, "It really just needs to stop. And though I appreciate your service, I really want you to stop showing up at the restaurant, too. The other customers get uncomfortable when they see someone flirting with the waitress and asking her over and over if she will be at that party next Saturday." She says this all very fast, and at the end of it she looks relieved, like a weight has been lifted off her chest. Connor is just staring at her, his face blank, and she says, "I'm sorry, Connor, but it's just never going to happen." She's walking over to me as she says this and picking up her jacket from the breakfast bar stool, and she pauses before adding, "But I appreciate your effort. It's really sweet the amount of time you put into–" she pauses again, searching for a word, "trying to woo me, I guess. I'm really sorry it didn't work out." She walks past him and toward the front door, and stops with her hand on the doorknob. "Oh," she says, turning around, looking slightly embarrassed, "I forgot..." Connor hasn't moved, so he's currently facing away from her. She bites her lip and turns to me, and I almost jump from the sheer strength of her gaze; the shock of her big, violently gorgeous brown eyes, "Will you help me with my car? I just need help pushing it down the driveway, from there it should be good." I nod quickly, my cheeks ablaze for no apparent reason, and follow her outside. We push her car into the street and she runs around to the driver's seat. "Thanks," she says, glancing out at me. I nod, and manage a, "No problem", though I'm positive my voice would've cracked if I'd said one word more. I expect her to drive away as quickly as possible then, but she bites her lip and says, "It was nice to meet you, Benjamin." She looks at her hands, her knuckles sharp as she clutches the steering wheel, "You have very nice eyes." I blink, shocked, and she looks quickly up at me, her cheeks bright red, and says, "You really photograph well. I–" she stops again, waiting as a car passes her on the opposite side of the street, her cheeks still ablaze, "I want to be a photographer." I stare at her, not knowing what to say, not sure if I've heard her right. She glances behind her and sees a car coming up her side of the road, so she turns quickly and says, "Would you mind if I photographed you sometime? Just some portraits, you know, close-up shots." She smiles, "Your parents would like them." I'm still stunned into silence, so I just nod. She smiles widely, her cheeks going even brighter, and says, "Great." She rolls her eyes, "Your brother has my number. Not sure how he got it, but he has it." She glances again in her rear view before turning the key in the ignition and shouting out the window as she speeds away, "Call me!"
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