In-N-Out Burger, quarter to 11.
Tonight I dressed up, hoping I’m at least a 7.
My friend pulls Bea and me aside,
Smiling cheeks, glinting eyes.

A conversation behind her had occurred:
“That girl is really cute, should I tell her?”
She subtly turned around to see
That two boys were looking towards Bea and me.

As she told her story, I bit my tongue.
I let myself think “finally, someone
Who thinks that I’m pretty, and deserves a chance.
I seem to be dodging any flirting glance.”

You’re lovely, my friends tell me (I hope that it’s true).
But I crave to hear it from someone new.
Someone who could possible grow
To love me and cherish me. I don’t say that, though.

I turn to Bea, and give her a smile
She’s in a red dress, prettiest for a mile.
My friends are all 10s, that I can see,
And I know that comment was for her, not me.

So here I am at In-N-Out eating fries
Pretending not to worry about numbers and guys.