My mind on Shirley

Ivan’s POV

The classroom feels like a prison today. My teacher’s voice drones on, the chalk scratching across the board, but nothing sinks in. Every number, every word, every lecture slides past me like water slipping through my fingers. My mind is not here, it is with her. With Shirley.

I lean back in my chair, staring out the window. I see her smile in my memory, the way her laugh bubbled out so unexpectedly when I spun her too fast on the dance floor. I see the faint blush on her cheeks when she caught me looking at her. Last night was perfect. Too perfect. And now I can’t focus on anything else.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The bell rings, startling me. Finally. I grab my bag and head out, ignoring my classmates chatter. There’s only one thing I want to do, and that was to find her.

Driving down the main road after school, my eyes scan the sidewalks. My heart leaps when I spot her. Shirley is walking slowly, her shoulders slumped, her bag hanging loosely at her side. Something about her posture tugs at me, she looks lonely and vulnerable.

Without thinking twice, I pull my car over and roll down the window.

“Shirley.” I call out. She looks up, surprised, her eyes wide when she sees me.

“Ivan?” she says softly, like she is not sure if I am real.

I smile. “Need a ride?” I say.

For a moment, she hesitates, then she nods. “Yes, thank you,” she says while running towards my car.

She climbs into the passenger seat, and suddenly, the air between us feels charged and alive, like last night all over again.

We drive in silence at first, the hum of the engine filling the space. I glance at her quickly, noticing how she fiddles with the strap of her bag and how her gaze keeps darting to the window. She looks shy, but there’s a glow about her that I can’t ignore.

“So,” I begin, breaking the silence, “did you enjoy the party last night?” I ask.

Her lips curve into a small smile. “I did. It was unforgettable.”

I grin, my chest warming. “Good. You know, dancing with you was the best part of my night.”

Her cheeks flush immediately, and she ducks her head. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” I reply, firm but gentle. “I mean it. You made the night special, Shirley.”

She glances at me then, just for a second, and the shy sparkle in her eyes makes my pulse race.

We keep talking as the car rolls along. She tells me about her classes, how exhausting they have been, and how she barely managed to wake up this morning. I tease her about being a terrible dancer at first, and she laughs, swatting my arm lightly. “I wasn’t that bad!” she protests.

I chuckle. “No, you weren’t. You were perfect. And brave enough to let me teach you.”

Her laughter softens, and for a moment, silence settles again, but this time it feels warm and comfortable.

Then I decide to risk it. “Shirley, can I have your number? So we can talk outside of school?” I ask.

Her smile falters slightly, and she sighs. “I wish I could, but my parents grounded me. They took my phone away, I don't know when they will give it back to me.”

I blink in surprise. “Grounded you? For the party?”

She nods, her expression falling. “Yeah. They weren’t happy about me sneaking out.”

For a second, frustration flares inside me. She doesn’t deserve that coldness. But I don’t press, not wanting to make her sadder.

“Then,” she says suddenly, her voice quieter, “why don’t you give me your number instead? That way, I can call you when I get the chance,” she suggests.

Her words make me smile. I grab a small notebook from the dashboard, scribble my number, and tear the page for her. “There. Now it is in your hands.”

She takes the paper carefully, folding it as if it is something precious. “Thank you, Ivan.”

I glance at her again, and for a fleeting moment, our eyes meet. The world outside fades. And in that moment, I know last night wasn’t just a memory. It was the beginning of something neither of us can deny.