NO BUGS 300 WORDS

She was like a June bug, but without the bug part. She was like a lightning bug, but without the squiggly legs. She was a queen bee, but really just a queen. And I was like a moth to her flame or maybe she was a moth to mine, but without being a moth at all. I loved her from my porch. I loved her from my bedroom window. I loved her from my desk at school and my seat on the bus. I did talk to her once, my beautiful butterfly, but pinned securely behind glass.

I called to her safely from behind the fence.

 “Good afternoon, Cricket.”

 “Hi Junior.” Her voice was sweeter than honey minus the sting of a bee. 

 “Hey, Cricket..”

 “Yes?”
“Your Christian name is Catherine, right?”

 “Uh-huh…”

 “Soes, how come they call you Cricket?”

 “I dunno. Just always have.”

 “Don’t suppose you mind if I call you Catherine, do ya?”

 “Well, sure, Junior, if you want to. I don’t mind.”

 “Well, okay, then. See ya later Catherine.”

 “Bye now.”

I could not think of one thing to say to her after that. I just didn’t want to call her Cricket one more day, even in my mind. Crickets are downright awful. She was so beautiful. She deserved to be Catherine. Could you imagine the audacity of someone, anyone calling that girl “Cricket”? There is a special place covered in swarms of mosquitoes for people like that.

Boy, did I love her and I believed she loved me too. But, our love died after forty days, just like a fruit fly, when I found out she had stayed home due to lice. I should have seen it comin’.  I was now, most certainly, on the hunt for a less detestable young lady to give a Valentine come the fourteenth.