Willie

A week later I saw her in the Literary Fiction section of Tattered Cover. She was flipping through the pages of Big City, Bright Lights and I was pretending to look for a book but really I was staring at her ivory legs because I could've sworn they were cut from silk. She smiled and, eyes still on the book, said, "Are you going to introduce yourself or just stand there and stare?"

My face got hot and I laughed this stupid laugh and apologized, and I thought about leaving but then I realized how awkward and rude it would be and I didn't want to put her off from coming to more shows in the future because what if that was the only time I’d ever see her?

She probably thought we were awful anyway.

"I'm Wilhelmina but everyone calls me Willie," she said, offering a tiny, pale hand, which I gladly took and all I could think was holy shit I'm holding her hand. Her yellow polish was chipped around the jagged edges of her fingernails but it looked good on her.

"I'm Louie but everyone calls me Lawson."

"Why's that?"

"Because my name's Louie Lawson."

She laughed and my heart stopped and my palms started to sweat. "That's a silly name."

"So is Willie."