Ashley and Mark

Ashley and Mark lie next to each other in pink floral sheets.  Ashley wears a thin white shirt.  Mark is bare-chested.  Mark sits up.

“You ever end up talking to that guy...what's his name...”

“Tim?”

“Yeah yeah Tim.”

“No.  He's a...you know...one of those guys who talks to everyone...”

“He should want to talk to you.  You're pretty.”

“I wear glasses.”

“What are you?  A fifth grader.”

“You know what I mean.”

“You don't know what I mean.  The glasses make you look more attractive.  I'm not gonna bother defending this.  You know this.  You know you're pretty.”

“Yeah.”

“So.”

“So what?”

“So what...are you going to talk to him?”

“What am I supposed to do?  Just walk up and say, "We probably have nothing in common, but I think you're cute and I want you to ask me out.”

“Wouldn't hurt.”

“I'm not gonna beg.”

“That's not begging.”

“That's not me begging.  You've seen me beg.”

            Mark laughs.

“I'm not saying you should beg.  Get all sexy on him.”

“You sound like a douche.”

“He'll notice you.”

“Have you seen the girls that hang around him?”

“Yeah yeah they're very cute.  That's not what matters.”

“Yeah I should ignore him right.  If I ignore him he'll want to chase after me right?”

“You're making fun of me.”

“Yeah.”

“Luckily he already doesn't notice you.  So that shouldn't be an issue.”

“Funny.”

“It's about coordination.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You're at a party.  Everyone is dancing right?”

“I mean sometimes, but—“

“That doesn't matter.  You'll start dancing and—“

“No way.  I'm not gonna start it.”

“How do you get so embarrassed with that—“

“What are you getting at?”

“Posture.  If you sit right, guys will talk to you.”

“What?”

“Sit up.”  Ashley sits up.  Her bare hips clash with the artificial pink that surrounds them.

“Yeah, but do that arched back thing.”  Ashley arches her lower back, pulls back her shoulders, and gives Mark a sexy face.

“That's it.  I know you're making fun of me.  But that is all it takes.”  Ashley looks at him with a serious face, but keeps the posture.  “I'm serious.  Sit like that and he'll want to talk to you.”  Ashley sits back.  Mark pulls off the covers and gets out of bed wearing only his boxers.  He goes to the foot of the bed and picks up his pants.  Black dress pants.

“When’s mom getting home?”  Mark looks at his phone.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“What time is that gonna be?”

“6:30ish.”

Mark leaves the room.