Smooth as Ice
Sitting at the table closest to the cream and sugar was a couple of high school kids. The boy was tall and pimple ridden. The girl was aloof and sat with her feet propped up on the chair opposite from where she was playing with her iPhone.
“I’m not sure if I should tell you this yet, by people say I’m smooth as ice,” said the guy.
“Really? Why?” asked the girl not looking up from her phone.
“Because I’m smooth. Like ice,” he stuttered.
“Really? I think you’re rough, like sandpaper.”
It was a crushing reply. Instead of leaving he sat there. Gazing out the window. The girl never looked up from whatever app held her attention. It was an awkward scene. I winced and hoped the guy had not bought her coffee.