Pulchritudinous

Oh gosh. I'm such a geek. Why did I say that?

I'm staring at my feet and he's probably trying to figure out what's wrong with me...Except that he's so nice he won't even say anything and then it'll just hover between us awkwardly whenever we talk.

Why can't I just be a normal teenage girl? You know, just call him cute and bat my eyelashes, maybe throw in a giggle for good measure.

But no.
Why me?

I had to be looking through my trusty pocket thesaurus earlier and then the word just came out all by itself.

No, of course I couldn't have just said, "you're cute." God forbid it be that easy.

Pulchritudinous.

I finally work up the nerve to look up at him.

He's not looking at me... Oh gosh, he probably thinks I'm a creep...

Wait.
He's looking through his bag.
He's pulling out...

...his pocket dictionary.

I forget to breathe a little.

There's a tense moment (or am I just imagining it?) as he turns through the little pages, eyes flitting across the paper...then...

Oh no. Here's the moment of truth. Then...

He looks up at me and grins. Says, "thanks."

My heart pounds as I finally exhale.

And after a moment, he adds, "You know, you're pretty pulchritudinous yourself."