Page 3 of Petite Fleur

As I'm staring out the window, watching a few football jocks tossing around a ball in the courtyard, I hear a chair sliding across the floor and the clanking of a bag being tossed onto the table.

When I turn my head to look, I see a beautiful southern belle staring back at me. She has long blonde hair done up in beach waves, gorgeous blue eyes, perfect makeup, and an outfit that looks as if she belongs in a country music video.

She's flawless, and she's smiling at me.

Crap, I've been staring for too long without saying anything.

Say something. Anything, idiot.

"Hey…" I say. I want to slap myself for being so dang awkward. Is that really all I can come up with?

This girl doesn't seem phased by my awkwardness; she just smiles at me and takes a bite of her food before speaking. “Hey, darling. I just transferred here and need new friends. Can I sit with you?” She asks.

The awkward part of me wants to point out how she's already sitting, but the logical part of me knows that's rude, and I'd probably just run her off. So, instead, I smile and nod.

“Of course! I'm Maeve.” I introduce.

This bombshell reaches across the table, offering me her hand, which I gladly take. “Shelby. I'm a literature major, what about you?” She asks sweetly.

I want to know where this girl is from. If she's not from Texas, she has a wonderful southern accent that has me convinced that Texas is her home.

But also, literature? That's not what I was picturing when she sat down. Maybe modeling, but I don't think that's a real major.

It should be, I'm convinced of that now because there's no way this girl is destined to be anything but a cover model.

Well, maybe nursing? I'm sure anyone would hurt themselves just to have her patch them up.

Crap, it's been too long since I've answered.

Say something…

“Botany.” I reply.

As we pick at our food, we sit in relative silence beyond a few questions Shelby asks about me.

Just your standard get-to-know-you questions, nothing too personal.

I always reciprocate her questions, but I'm not good at this stuff.

If she wanted to talk about the evolution of man, the inner workings of serial killers, conspiracy theories, aliens, or anything like that, I'd be down. But I can't just create small talk out of thin air like everyone else.

I don't even know how we managed it, but Shelby and I ended up sitting together for over an hour. The only thing that ended our talk was Shelby realizing she was about to miss her next class.

So, we exchanged numbers, and I promised I'd call her if I ever felt like bullriding.

Don't ask…

Apparently, it's fun, and it really gets the guy's attention.

I think I'll pass on that, but I'll gladly show up at whatever bar she's at and watch her get thrown off of a giant mechanical bull.

It sounds hilarious and kind of fun.

Shelby hugs me before she sprints off, making it both awkward and heartwarming when I realize that I finally made a friend on my own without Carlie's help.

I just hope Carlie will like her.

Chapter 2

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