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Riding High
Gabrielle was mesmerized.
I watched him snake his way toward the front door of the bus, admiring the long line of his back, the firm muscles of his upper arms. All the boys I knew at school were so different - jocks or eggheads. I had never met a boy who looked like an athlete, was street wise and could recite reams of poetry by heart.
Angelo was fascinated.
She was the most adorable girl I had ever seen. There was a light dusting of freckles across her nose - cinnamon sprinkled on whipped cream. Idiotically, I pictured myself leaning over and licking the tip of her perfectly carved nose.
How would they ever tell each other?
I watched him snake his way toward the front door of the bus, admiring the long line of his back, the firm muscles of his upper arms. All the boys I knew at school were so different - jocks or eggheads. I had never met a boy who looked like an athlete, was street wise and could recite reams of poetry by heart.
Angelo was fascinated.
She was the most adorable girl I had ever seen. There was a light dusting of freckles across her nose - cinnamon sprinkled on whipped cream. Idiotically, I pictured myself leaning over and licking the tip of her perfectly carved nose.
How would they ever tell each other?
157 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published August 28, 1985
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