This is a scene from my teens, written exactly as I remember it (and condensed to 55 words because that is how I tell short stories). If I write the second novel, this is what it is coming out of.
I’m sitting on the curb next to Ryan. We’re so close we could be holding hands. Our short black hair matches and I think, “We could be twins.”
Billy walks over and stands in the street, looking at us. “You love each other,” he says. I can feel myself blush. I think Ryan does too.
But you know, if I write it as a novel I will change the names. Maybe.