The Way He Smiles

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The Way He Smiles

The warmth was sweltering. Dipping itself into every crevice and causing beads of sweat to slide down my neck and back. I shook the collar of my t-shirt, trying to get air-flow underneath the thin cotton. Beside me, Lily fanned herself with her empty paper plate.

“It’s so hot,” Lily said, her cheeks flushed.

“Yes, you are,” Tyler grinned at her.

Lily rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. “Nice one.”

“I ooze charm,” Tyler ran his fingers through his short blonde hair and tried to appear haughty. However, with his boy-next-door looks and the light freckles dotting his nose, he failed.

“You ooze something all right,” I said, smiling as I tightened my high ponytail.

“You be quiet,” Tyler said jokingly, reaching across Lily to gently shove my shoulder.

The motion carried me farther than I anticipated, causing me to accidently bump into the boy sitting beside me.

“Sorry,” I said, my blue eyes mirrored back at me in the reflection of his sunglasses. He was wearing a navy blue baseball cap, the brim casting a shadow across his high cheekbones.

“It’s okay,” The boy shrugged and turned his attention back to the baseball game currently in motion.

I waited until he was absorbed in the game. “Tyler!” I hissed at my sister’s boyfriend, slightly mortified at my shoulder-bump with the cute guy beside me.

Tyler cackled and Lily had to cover her mouth to hide her giggles.

“Sorry, Riley,” Tyler said, his expression the opposite of his sentiments. “Next time I’ll push you harder.”

“Hardy har har,” I mumbled, fighting down a smile myself.

“He is kinda cute,” Lily said, her blue irises flitting to the baseball-cap boy.

“And now he probably thinks I’m a weirdo,” I said to my sister. She didn’t argue.

All my life, I’ve been told I look like Lily. Same build: long legs, lack of obvious curves, nimble fingers. Same blonde hair to my shoulders. And the same blue, blue eyes perched above a narrow nose. We’ve been mistaken for twins plenty of times, despite the fact that, at twenty, she’s two years older than I.

“Hey, Riley,” Tyler said when the game was at a pause, the tired players watering down on their benches.

I glanced to him, anticipating some one-liner he had most likely been perfecting through the first half of the game.

“Don’t fall for him,” Tyler said with a bright grin. I barely had time to comprehend his words before I was shoved again, colliding with baseball hat boy.

“I’m so sorry,” I said to my good-looking neighbor. My eyes met his dark sunglasses, all emotion hidden behind their lenses. “My sister’s boyfriend keeps pushing me.” I pointed to Tyler, who was very obviously not looking in our direction and whistling off-key to himself.

The boy smiled, revealing very white, straight teeth. They were all perfect except one canine, which was twisted slightly; that flaw only seemed to add to the smile’s charm. “It’s okay. I--”

But the remainder of his words were drowned out by a sudden chorus of shouting. I shifted my gaze around. It felt as if every pair of eyes was on me and baseball cap boy. When my stare went to the large monitor hovering over the baseball field I saw why: Baseball cap boy and I were on the kiss cam.

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