The purple scarf

When the bell rang, I rushed out of the class. Finally, I would be able to talk to Cinder-ella4x. Whether it was giving me advice or just plain listening, she always had my back. I trusted her. I reached the computer room and logged onto MSN. I checked if she was online, and to my luck she was.

>> Hi << I typed.

>> Hi Joshua. How are you doing? :-) << She answered and I smiled; it was so nice to hear from her again. Recently we had been talking about meeting up sometime.

>> I’m okay, school's kind of boring:-/ << It was true, school had become one big boring routine. The same dull teachers and the same tedious assignments.

>> What a drag. Wanna talk about it? <<

Again, she was so sympathetic and kind. Sometimes I felt like she was the only person who truly understood me.

>> Not really:-/ << >> Okay, just know that I'm always here for you ;-) <<

"Dude? Are you sure that's a good idea?" Michael said. “What if she’s like an axe murderer or something?” Tony then said and pretended to stab me with his pencil. “I’ve known her for 6 months, and I honestly don’t think she’s an axe murderer,” I said. They just don’t get it, but they will soon.

My palms were sweaty. What if she didn’t like me? What if I wasn’t what she had expected? “She said she would be wearing a purple scarf,” I said. I looked around in the crowded café trying to spot a purple scarf. Then suddenly a purple scarf came into sight. “She’s…definitely something,” Tony said, trying not to laugh. “Maybe it’s not her,” I said, deeply wishing it wasn’t her.

The person with the purple scarf, was not a girl, in fact she was a woman. Probably in her mid-40’s. She had a big mole on her right cheek and beside it a huge, white, puffy pimple, just begging to be burst. Only she hadn’t, and I kept wondering if she’d left it there because it distracted the attention from the mole. Probably not. “I don’t see anyone else wearing a purple scarf,” Michael said. He was right; no one else was wearing a purple scarf.

”Should I say something to her?” I asked. “No, no you shouldn’t. Let’s just get out of here,” Michael said and pulled me towards the door. “I’ll just say hi, and then we can leave.” For a second I hesitated. What if she really was an axe murderer? I pulled myself together and I slowly walked towards her. As I got closer, I noticed that she kept looking eagerly at her watch and I couldn’t help feeling somewhat bad for her. Wait, what was wrong with me? She’s a 40-year-old woman. I turned around. That is never going to happen I thought to myself and left the café.

What Joshua didn’t see was that in the corner booth at the very back of the café a cute, 15 year old girl sat playing with the strands of her purple scarf.