Fate wore a pony tail and a red dress. We were both attending a large group ballroom dancing lesson along with perhaps two hundred other kids our age, all of whom attended schools in town. Our mid-lesson break had just begun when the lovely girl headed my way.
Christina was a very pretty girl with pretty blue eyes and shoulder length, light brown hair. She wore a red, short-sleeve, cotton dress that hung just below her knees and had a sparse floral pattern on it. She wore suntan nylons, and black, leather flats — and she was headed my way.