The End Of It

Freddie waited on the corner, staring at the big clock on the sign of the First National Bank.

12:03 am.

She'd be coming to the bus stop soon, after her shift at the movie theater ended.

Freddie had finally plucked up the courage to ask her out.

She came walking up. Freddie's palms were sweating.

"Deb...Deb...Deborah," he said, stuttering.

"Hello, Freddie," she said, not even looking at him.

"Would you...you...you...like to go out...out...out with me?"

She laughed uproariously. "You?! I'd rather be dead!"

"O...O...Okay," Freddie said.

Deborah thought that was the end of it.

It was the end of it.