Charlotte looked at me with a laugh-worthy scoff and narrowed her gaze on the boy. “This is McDaniels by the way,” She said with a grin, lending me a quick eyebrow bounce. “Christopher McDaniels.” Her tone slithered through the air with a coo.

       He rolled his eyes at her and took a step toward me, extending a firm hand. “You’ve got to stop being so formal, Charlotte.” His smile widened tenfold and his eyes flashed. “Friends call me Chris.”  

Charlotte let out a dramatic scoff. “Friends? What friends?” She scoffed. “And me? Formal? You offend me, Christopher.” He laughed lightheartedly, a sweet sound in the warm air.

I paused looking at him, a smile on my lips.

      He wasn’t all that handsome but he was definitely nice to look at. He had thick blond hair, longer and bushier than most men I knew. It brushed over his forehead in soft bangs. Upturned eyes with long, elegant eyelashes smiled at me in a brilliant shade of royal blue. His pupils were large, giving his eyes a more glistening appearance, shimmering in the light from the white ceiling tiles. He had a more squared off face, his expression like that of a puppy. His lips were more wide set maple colored, that grinned widely with straight white teeth hidden beneath. Tanned skin laid beneath the rolled-up cuffs of his flannel shirt, obviously out in the sun usually. He wasn’t particularly muscular, he definitely had some sort of muscular attributes but he was more of a lean figure than most. His presence in the room was slightly awkward as he massaged the inside of his wrist cautiously with two fingers, grinning at me.

      “I would never mean to be rude, Charlotte.” He said softly, his voice a gentle purr in the air. “You know that, don’t you?” Charlotte grinned at me as I felt my face obviously grow warmer. I automatically used a hand to shield my red face as I turned away from the boy in the door to face the wall opposite him.

      Charlotte chuckled lightly, looking back at her papers. “Of course I do; you never are, Christopher.” She purred gently, moving a paper from her stack and sliding it to the other side of her desk. I glanced back at her as she tapped her pen sporadically on the hickory wood of the paper-ridden table.  

Chris smiled, balancing back on the heels of his shoes. “Chris.” He corrected like it was an impulse he couldn’t control like he did it every day of his little life.

      Charlotte rolled her eyes nodding. “Whatever you say, Christopher.