The teen boy with the military hair cut and the earring who is sitting
across from me avidly watches the teen girl with the pink and teal stripes in
her hair who is sitting in front of me. He requests a Sprite
and 'that girl's phone number' from the flight attendant. He
convinces the elderly man sitting next to him to switch seats so he
can tap her on the shoulder and inquire as to where she attends
school. (Being sure to mention that he is a recent graduate of a nearby school
himself.) She's not quite sure how to take this unexpected, but
perhaps not entirely undesired, attention. I'm immensely amused by
his persistent questions and her polite but brief answers. This
amusement, derived from the knowledge that I no longer have to fear
being in either of these kids' shoes, makes me feel old. But it's an
old I am comfortable with.
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