There is always a first time
“You like her, don't you?”
He wriggled on his seat, obviously uncomfortable with the question. I'd have hated it myself when I had his age.
“Who?” he pretended not to know.
“The redhead,” I said. The cute redhead, with soft green eyes and lots of freckles, who I had seen before, and who I had seen him watching before, mesmerized, wearing a simple white t-shirt that made her look even fresher than her teenage did.
“Oh, her,” he said, with a pretense uninterested tone, trying to find some way to change the subject to something that his fourteen years could handle better.
“Yes, her. You know her, don't you?” He shrugged. “Why don't you ask her out?”
He widened his eyes and almost dropped his chin to the floor.
“Have you already asked?”
“No, why should I?” Ah, teenagers.
“'Cause you like her.” He blushed to a nice shade of red. I pretended not to notice, although I'm sure his cheeks were burning like hell. Before he could say something silly that would only damage himself, I smiled. “Don't you think she might say yes?”
He shrugged again. “I don't know.”
“Ask her. That's the only way to find out.” He hesitated for a second, trying to find another way to deal with it.
“What if she says no?”
“What if she says yes?”
“Right, but what about no?”
“It happens. So? You just go on. Ask her again another day. You know, girls like to be difficult sometimes.”
He still didn't move. “Go.”
“What should I say?”
“Does nothing occur to you?” He was thinking too much. Whatever he came up with would be bad. “Ask if she wants to have an ice-cream.” He seemed to like that. “Go,” I repeated. He went. I watched with discretion. The redhead was with a girlfriend, and they said “hi” to him with cheerful smiles. I couldn't hear them, they were too far. He smiled, then he said something that made them laugh. “Way to go,” I thought. Then he said something else, and the two girls looked at each other. Then the redhead glanced at her watch. I could see him shrugging again. He does that too often. Then the two girls stood up, and they said good-bye. He came back slowly, probably to avoid being seen by the girls with me, but they had headed to the other direction.
He arrived back and sat again. “They had to leave.”
“Yes. Try again next time. I think she likes you.” He nodded. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” he said. I could see he was telling the truth. He was probably feeling more glad that he had asked a girl out for the first time than sad that she had said no.
“See? Well, let's go. I'll give you a nice blow job later, just the way you like it.” He shrugged again.