Quinn Collins was an anomaly. on the day he met her, he wore flimsy neon finger gloves with an orange angora turtleneck he found in his mom’s basement, buried under a pile of old Mary Kay products she’d cast away once she realized how much you had to sell to even smell the leather of a Pink Cadillac. Argyle socks were paired with jeans he rolled up so they’d purposefully have wide cuffs. And he couldn’t forget about his Docs.
He was handsome enough. with an angled face, expression-full blue eyes that were framed with honey colored lashes. His strawberry blonde curls always smelled like peaches, but only because he thought his sister’s shampoo smelled better than the intoxicating scent of Irish Spring bar soap.
His mother always said he would look handsomer if he dressed like a normal seventeen year old.
But Quinn didn’t want that; it’s not that he was purposefully trying to be rebellious -he just found baseball tees and khakis boring.
All of that changed when he was dragged along to his little sister’s dance recital at St. Anthony’s, his family’s church. Like most five year olds, she was uncoordinated and awkward onstage, her pudgy arms flailing as she and her fellow sugar plum fairies flounced about under the harsh lights.
The front row seats his mom had paid extra for didn’t give him the chance to zone out and scope the floating heads that surrounded him..except for the
girl off by the side of the stage, her slender fingers conducting the girls as
best she could.
She was petite, slim, and he could already see how sinewy her muscles were as she raised her arms up -the kids followed suit.
Her sleek brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail, with little baby hairs peeking out
from the nape of her neck.
He knew her name - she was one of Holly’s junior dance teachers and he saw her around at school.
Ana Harmon. Yeah, he’d heard it in passing.
Her golden irises caught his blue ones, and Quinn felt his whole body go warm.
The show ended prematurely after one of
the fairies took a spill off the stage and tumbled into the orchestra pit.
An ambulance was called by a parent, and the audience disbanded into throngs of chattering mothers and grunting fathers.
He surfed the waves of people until he found her, Ana, in a leotard and shorts that had Minnie Mouse on the seat of them; he’d bothered to admire her assets before approaching her.
She gave him a gentle smile, her face was round, with pockets of freckles just peeking out from her pinkened cheeks.
“You’re Holly’s brother.” She said.
Quinn blinked. “Uh..yeah. Yeah, I am.” He was jostled by a broad-shouldered guy with salt and pepper hair shorn short in a buzzcut.
“Nice duds.” She laughed. “I especially like the gloves. Very eighties-esque.”
It was his turn to blush. “I appreciate the fine arts.”
He didn’t know what happened, but somehow they ended up in the garden behind the house of worship, kissing in front of the statue of the angel Gabriel.
She was up on her tiptoes, head tipped up so she could get in a good liplock.
He gently pushed her away and stood back a few feet, hands in his pockets.
“So..are we a thing now?”
“I guess we are.”
They wrote their numbers on each other’s arms and sealed the deal with another quick close-lipped peck.
They were drawn to each other on the basis of nothing, Quinn thought to himself on the ride back home.
He couldn’t tell if it was the purest kind of love out there, or the most dangerous kind.