These were the innocent years.
The two teenagers sat and talked while warming themselves.
"Henry, I hate you."
Henry looked at Barby bewildered. "What did I do now?"
Barby reached out and pulled his hair over his head covering
his face. "Your hair looks nicer than mine. I refuse to
associate with a boy who has hair like that. It's bad enough
that it's longer but it looks nicer too!"
He looked at her rolling his eyes back and forth. "So wash
it once in a while."
She slapped him across his shoulder with her open palm.
"Ouch," she said. "Now you are trying to hurt me." Her face
broke into a repressed grin.
"Barby, you hit me, l didn't hit you."
She pouted now, sticking out her bottom lip. "Do you
think I'm pretty?"
Henry put his hands over his face hiding his response. "I
think Brandy is pretty," he said in a low voice-almost a whisper.
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