Part 3

Now you want to laugh.

You draw the paper back to face you.

I would prefer to call you

Orabelle.

She takes the paper back.

My mother named me Orabelle

because she loved the sound of

the waves. Please call be Bella.

She hands you the paper.

I do not think you look like

a Bella.

Truth be told she does not.

Her hair is bright red and her eyes are ocean blue.

Her now white skin is covered in freckles.

You continue to write.

You look like an Orabelle.

Like you were born to live

by the ocean.

Her lifts her eyebrows as if in suprise.

Are you hitting on me.

She writes it down. As you see the letters a laugh escapes from your mouth.

She does not hear the laugh, but her expression tells you that she knows what you are doing.

No offense. But not you.

You write the message down, and look over at a boy.

He is the one that you like.

She would not understand.