Rose watched her friends dancing to the new rock ’n’ roll music. She spotted Alfred but didn’t dare get up. Her mother watched her, watching him.
At intermission, Mother said, “C’mon, Rose, we’re leaving,” and left to fetch the car.
Alfred approached. “Leaving so soon, Rose?”
“Yes.”
“May I call you?”
“We don’t have a phone.”
***
Rose sat in the backseat while Mother drove. “Who was that boy?”
“No one.”
“Don’t forget, you’re working the store this summer. No distractions.”
“Yes, Mother.” Rose held a napkin open, careful not to fold it. Written on it, in red lipstick, was Alfred’s number.
Ah, first love…
Yes indeed, thank you Deanna.
Ah! Love conquers all, no matter what….beautiful little anecdote. Keep them coming, Charles.
Yes, it does. Thank you, Rudolph, for the comment.
I like to think that was the start of a lifelong partnership for Rose and Alfred.
Sweet.
It actually was. Thank you, David, for the comment.
Impressive storytelling in such a concise text! The subtle tension between Rose and her mother, juxtaposed with the budding romance, is beautifully captured.
Thank you, Bruno, for the kind words.
Good for Rose! I hope she and Alfred have a happy ending. :>
Yes, they did. Thank you Ekta for the comment.
Nice!
Thank you, Marie, for the comment.
Nice work, Rose 🙂
Thank you, Kelly.
Very nostalgic and well written. Regardless of the technology, it strikes a chord by invoking the near-universal awkwardness of our teen years.
Thank you for the comment, Bud.
Good for Rose!
Thank you for the comment, Pamela.