Uncool and Opposite

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, rolling down his window. Both his eyes and hair were a soft chocolatey brown. His hair curled around his ears, seeming untidy and tidy at the same time.
Color rushed up my cheeks as I felt supremely stupid.
Commonly dressed, blushing, driving a car that had started decaying long ago, I was the picture of uncool. And he was just the opposite.
“Sorry, accident,” I gushed, my words garbled.
“Bad day, huh?” he smiled in understanding.
“Yeah,” I squeaked. Holy snap, he was gorgeous.
Sam , who are you talking to?” whined a voice from his car. A girl voice.
“Hey, I’ll see you later,” Sam sighed. Regretfully? Of course not, what was I thinking?
He sped up, leaving me behind, staring in wonderment.
“Arg!” I growled, banging my head on the wheel and sending out another choked blast from my horn.

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