One day when the ocean and sun were rhyming...

Pretty Boy Blue
by Erin Halfelven

Lonnie stared at the policeman on his bicycle. “Excuse me?”

The cop smiled pleasantly, still standing astride his bike, blocking the crosswalk. “I said I’m going to have to give you a ticket.”

“For what?” Lonnie tried hard not to squeak.

“For being too pretty,” the cop explained, whipping out his ticket book.

Lonnie’s friends, bravely standing behind him on the sidewalk, all laughed.

“But I’m a boy!” Lonnie protested, definitely squeaking this time. He resisted the urge to turn around and glare at his friends, who were now openly giggling.

“Good point,” the cop admitted. “Too pretty for a boy, that’s a 1217b. I think the fine is higher.” He tore a sheet off the tablet and handed it to Lonnie. “Have a nice day, miss,” he chirped pleasantly.

Lonnie’s friends crowded around, and Jennifer tried to snatch the paper out of his hand, but he blocked her by turning away. “Lemme see!” Jennifer begged.

Lonnie ignored her and the reaching hands of his other friends as he read what had been scribbled across the face of the ticket. “Dave Horne,” it said, followed by a phone number.

“You guys!” Lonnie squeaked. “You’re always getting me into these situations.” He complained. “You cut my hair in this girly style and give me a Cinderella t-shirt to wear! What am I supposed to do now?”

“Well,” Esme offered. “I guess that depends on if you want a date with the hunky policeman.” Which produced a gale of giggles from the other girls.

By this time, they had actually managed to cross the busy Main Street of the small North Carolina beach town, and Lonnie paused to give Esme a sour look before scanning to see if he could spot the policeman. Not even by bouncing up on his toes could he catch a glimpse of the man or his bike.

He sighed.

The girls were beginning to percolate through the crowds around the shops and bistros on this side of the street. Heather, the fourth member of their little Spring Break expedition, sidled up to him. Sotto voce, she remarked. “He was pretty hunky, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Lonnie admitted. “But I keep telling you guys I don’t need a boyfriend.” He thought a moment. “Or a stalker.”

Heather giggled and took his hand in hers. “Like you know what you want,” she scoffed. “You’re the only member of the sorority who doesn’t have a steady squeeze.”

Lonnie sniffed at that but gave her hand a return squeeze. “We’ve been friends a long time,” he began.

“Since middle school,” she interrupted.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “And I appreciate the help you’ve been, finding a place for me just off campus, but that’s another thing. I’m not a member of your sorority; I’m just renting your basement apartment. It’s got a separate entrance and its own address!”

“We voted you in,” she said quickly. “Last fall, after all the pledges washed out.”

“Doesn’t count,” he insisted. “Not official. And has it occurred to any of you,” he waved a hand at the others looking in a shop window, “that maybe I’d prefer to have a girlfriend?”

Heather scoffed again. “We tried that, remember? Didn’t work out.”

Lonnie rolled his eyes.

“You’re just not butch enough for me,” Heather explained, stealing some of the sting back with a giggle.

“Cut it out,” he complained, but they traded hand squeezes and smiles again. “I mean….” He stopped to look around for a tall man on a bike again. “I mean,” he continued, “If I went on a date with this Ossifer Horne, what would I wear?”

Heather squealed, startling him into pulling away.

“London Blue!” She crowed, using his full name. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask that for seven years!”